“They hurt me.” Catherine’s tone was wondering, childlike. “Like they hurt Henriette and Sister Mathilde.”
Juliette’s hand closed on Catherine’s. “Yes.”
“They tore my clothes and then they tore…me.”
“Yes.” Juliette’s grip tightened. “But you’re alive and I killed thecanaillewho did it.”
“Murder.” Catherine’s eyes glistened with tears. “It’s a mortal sin. I made you commit a mortal sin.”
“You made me do nothing. It was my choice.”
“No, I was to blame. You would have never—”
“I wanted to do it,” Juliette interrupted. “I enjoyed doing it. I wish I could have killed all of them.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” Juliette said fiercely. “I want them all dead. I want them all burning in hell. Do you think I should forgive them? Are you going to forgive that loathsome slug who raped you?”
“I…don’t want to think about him.” Catherine turned her gaze toward the window. “I don’t want to think of either of them.”
Juliette stiffened. Them. She had been so weary she hadn’t realized Catherine had been speaking in the plural. “Catherine, how many men…hurt you?”
Catherine’s voice was barely audible. “Two.”
Fury surged through Juliette, taking her breath, sending the blood pounding in her temples. “There was only one man in the tomb.”
“There was another before him. He left after…” Catherine’s voice broke. “But the other one stayed. He did it over and over until I—”
“Shh. Go to sleep.” Juliette enfolded her in a close embrace. “He can’t hurt you now.”
“Yes, he can. I dreamed about him. He was there above me. Hurting me. Looking down at me with no face.” Catherine was trembling uncontrollably. “No face. He had no face.”
“He had a face. It was just too dark to see in the tomb.”
“They were shadows. They didn’t have faces. I thought if I could see their expressions I’d know why they were doing this to me. I thought I’d be able to make some sense out of it, but they had no faces.” She was panting as if she were running. “And then I realized I had no face either. I was nothing. I was something to use and throw away. It didn’t matter what they did to me because I was already so soiled that I couldn’t get dirtier, more fouled, or—”
“It’s not true,” Juliette said. “None of that is true. It wasn’t your fault.”
“What difference does that make? You know it’s a woman’s duty to keep herself pure for her husband. Do you think any man would take a woman to wife who had been so used?”
Juliette hesitated. She could not lie to Catherine and tell her it would make no difference. The world was neither fair nor gentle to women in most instances, and men were particularly unfair in matters of chastity. “No one need know. At Versailles there were tricks the women used to fool a bridegroom into believing he was getting a virgin. We could—”
“I couldn’t lie. I’m already stained enough without adding falsehoods to my sins. Besides, I could never marry.” Catherine’s eyes twitched beneath their lids like an animal in mortal terror. “He would hurt me. Icouldn’t let him do that. I don’t want anyone to touch me ever again.”
Juliette swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat “No one’s going to hurt you. Rest now and try to sleep. Robert is going to bring soup and wine.”
“I’m not hungry. You won’t leave me?” Catherine whispered, her eyes closing. “I’m afraid I’ll dream…”
She was already half asleep, Juliette noticed. She supposed it was natural after Catherine’s hideous experience for her to wish to hide away, but she was embracing sleep with an eagerness that made Juliette uneasy.
Catherine opened suddenly anxious eyes. “Juliette, they didn’t hurt you? You got away without them—”
Blood.
The Reverend Mother kneeling before the tribunal.
The golden chalice of the holy sacrament.
