Page 67 of Her Sinful Duke

The cold, unyielding walls seemed to close in on her as she edged closer to her destination: the main door leading outside.

Penelope paused at a corner, peeking around it to ensure that there was no one there. Seeing no one, she continued, her fingers trailing lightly along the stone walls to keep her balance as her entire body was shivering. Her breath was shallow, her movements careful, avoiding any sudden noise that might alert the convent’s inhabitants.

The layout of the nunnery was etched in her mind from the last time she had been there. She knew when the nuns were patrolling the corridors and when they would be silent. She reached the main corridor, the grand wooden door looming ahead. Freedom was so close she could almost taste the fresh night air and feel the cold breeze on her skin.

With cautious but deliberate movements, she approached the door. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the heavy iron latch. Just as she was about to lift it, a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

“Where do you think you’re going, child?” a stern voice demanded.

Penelope spun around, her heart sinking as she faced none other than Mother Superior, her eyes cold and unyielding. Sister Hannah, one of the elder nuns, and Ciara, the oblate she had met on her first day at the convent, stood behind her, looking concerned but resolute, sharing in Mother Superior’s beliefs.

“I… I need to leave,” Penelope stammered, trying to summon the courage to plead her case.

“The only thing youneedto do, child, is atone for your sins,” Mother Superior spoke harshly, lifting her finger and pointing it at Penelope.

Immediately, the two sisters grabbed her on both sides, leading her deeper back into the belly of the nunnery.

“No, no, let me go!” Penelope shouted, trying to fight them off, but the two sisters were obviously used to such outbursts, their grip tight and their will to keep her subdued relentless.

Penelope’s heart pounded in her chest as she was dragged through the cold, dimly lit corridors of the nunnery. The nuns remained on either side, their grips ironclad on her arms as she struggled against them without much success. The echoing sound of their footsteps on the stone floor reverberated around her, heightening her sense of dread.

“Please, you don’t understand!” Penelope continued, her throat in pain from all the shouting, but she had to make herself heard. “I don’t belong here! There’s been a terrible mistake!”

The stern-faced Mother Superior led the way, turning to her for a moment to respond. “Silence, child. You must accept your penance. Rebellion will only worsen your punishment.”

Penelope’s mind raced in an effort to comprehend how she had ended up in this nightmare. The memory of Vanessa’s deceitful smile and the sensation of being shoved into the carriage flashed before her eyes. She was instantly overcome by anger and desperation.

“I’m not here of my own accord!” she exclaimed again. “I was taken against my will! I don’t belong here!”

Ciara cast a sympathetic glance but she remained silent. She obviously knew better than to speak against Mother Superior’s orders. However, Penelope could see that the young woman understood her plight, and she latched onto this small hint of compassion like a drowning man would grab onto a straw that might save his life.

“Ciara, please…” Penelope turned to the woman, desperation oozing out of her every breath. “You must believe me. I need to get back to my husband; he is probably worried sick about me, not knowing where I am.”

Ciara seemed to hesitate for a moment, her expression changing with each passing moment. But Mother Superior wouldn’t allow that. Her voice cut through the air like a whip, harsh and unyielding.

“Ciara! Do not be swayed by this one’s manipulation. She is here to atone for her sins, and we will ensure that she does so.”

They continued down a narrow, winding passage, the air growing colder and more oppressive with each step. Finally, they reached a heavy wooden door, bound with iron. Mother Superior reached into the pocket of her robe, extracted a large, ancient key, and unlocked the door with a loud, echoing click.

The door creaked open to reveal a small, dimly lit cell. The walls were nothing but bare stone, and the only furnishings were a rough wooden cot and small, crucifix-adorned table. There was nothing else. No hope, either. The room felt suffocatingly small, the air heavy with dampness and the faint scent of incense.

“No, please!” Penelope cried upon seeing where they intended to lock her up. A new source of strength surged inside of her, renewing her struggles, but it was all in vain. “You can’t lock me up in here!”

Ignoring her pleas, the nuns forced her into the cell. Mother Superior’s voice was cold and final as she stood in the doorway, preventing Penelope from leaving. “You will remain here in solitary confinement until you learn to submit to God’s will.”

Penelope’s heart raced as she was shoved deeper into the cell, the door slamming shut behind her with a resounding thud. She threw herself against the door, banging her fists against the unyielding wood.

“Let me out! Let me out!” she shouted again and again. “You can’t do this to me!”

Mother Superior’s stern voice was heard from the other side. “Reflect on your transgressions, child. Only through repentance will you find salvation.”

The sound of their footsteps receded, leaving Penelope alone in the oppressive silence. She sank to the floor, her body trembling with fear and anger. The reality of her situation pressed down on her like the heaviest of burdens. She was trapped, far away from anyone who might help her. The thought of being alone and forgotten in this cold, dark cell filled her with an unfathomable sense of hopelessness.

Tired and worn out, she lay on the small cot, feeling her body rebel against the discomfort. Once again, that flicker of determination she had while she still thought she could escape this wretched place was gone. She was left feeling utterly defeated. The darkness of the cell seemed to seep into her very soul, and the silence was deafening.

She closed her eyes, thinking of James, of his smile, his touch, and the warmth of his presence. The memory of their last conversation, how she accused him of things that weren’t true, filled her with a deep ache. She knew now that this was all her sister’s doing. She was trying to break them apart, and Penelope had walked right into her trap, choosing to believe in Vanessa’s lies instead of her own husband.

Exhaustion overtook her. Despite the hardness of the cot and the chill in the air, Penelope’s body craved rest. Her mind craved the same. She needed a moment when she was blissfully unaware of the horror she had found herself in. She fought against the pull of sleep, but it was a losing battle. Her eyelids dropped, and she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness.

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