No Sweeter Heaven: The Pascal Trilogy - Book 2 Read Free

someone inside the walls of a monastery? Have you no shame?”
    “Madame,” Pascal said weakly, his head still reeling from the blow she’d given it, “who are you? What are you?”
    He was doing his very best to be compassionate and turn the other cheek, but as he’d never had any experience in dealing with madwomen, and since she had already lambasted both sides of his head between her fists, he didn’t think there was much room left in which to negotiate. He struggled to sit up, his head pounding painfully.
    “What I am is a person not accustomed to being attacked! And do not think that I shan’t tell your superiors that, either, for I shall! I am sure they will be deeply disappointed that you have returned to your immoral ways!”
    Pascal stared at her. “My … Woman, what are you going on about? Have you mistaken me for someone else, perhaps? Or is it your habit to beat men about the head when they are attempting to see to your welfare?”
    “Ha!” she said, turning away and struggling with the strings of her corset, her hands shaking. “My welfare, you say? You have obviously been too long without the company of women if you feel you must strip one the moment you have the chance!”
    “I was not attempting to strip you. I was merely attempting to ascertain whether you had injured yourself,” Pascal said as patiently as he could manage.
    “Which is why your hands were wandering about under my petticoats?”
    “Madame, you have an exceedingly high opinion of yourself if you think you are so irresistible that a man cannot help but grope at you the instant you happen to be unconscious.”
    Lily, stung, glared at him. “I should not add insult to injury, you horrible man. You are in enough trouble as it is.”
    “Oh, and what sort of trouble do you imagine that is?” Pascal retorted, his usually even temper stretched to its limit.
    She pointed a shaking finger behind him while she hastily attempted to pull the bodice of her dress together with the other hand.
    Pascal looked over his shoulder and saw young Julien and the abbot, Dom Benetard, hurrying toward them. “Oh, no,” he muttered under his breath. “Oh, please, dear Lord, have mercy.”
    He slowly rose to his feet and turned to face them, a cold chill taking hold of his heart. The expressions of dismay on both faces were a clear indication of their thoughts. The madwoman’s next words only served to add to their consternation.
    “Thank goodness you have come—your gardener attempted to assault me!”
    Julien looked at her in horror, but the abbot had more self-control. He turned to Pascal and spoke in a calm, gentle voice. “Is this true, my son?”
    “No, it is not true, Father. I was attempting to help the woman after she fell from the wall. I loosened her clothing and examined her for injuries.” He lowered his voice. “I fear she might be unbalanced in her mind.”
    “Unbalanced?” Lily said indignantly. “I am no more unbalanced than I am deaf, so it is no good using that tactic to try to excuse yourself.”
    “Then if you’re not unbalanced, you might explain why you were crawling along the top of the monastery wall hissing like a lunatic,” Pascal snapped, thoroughly out of patience and extremely annoyed to have been put in this ludicrous situation. “Such behavior is hardly normal.”
    “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she said, glaring at him. “You seem to forget that I am the person with a grievance, not you.” She turned her attention back to the abbot. “If you please, lock this man away, for I do not wish to look at him anymore.”
    “I am afraid it is not that simple, my child,” the abbot said. “We cannot lock a person away when there is some doubt as to what actually occurred. Is it not possible that you might have been mistaken, and Monsieur LaMartine was attempting to see to your well-being?”
    “By pawing at my…” She blushed furiously. “Under my … you know. At least I think you do.”