The Book of Shadows by James Reese Read Free Book Online

might have finished the sonnet, but chose not to; a sadness overcame her then, and hastily she drew down the rest of my gifts. The Lives of the Saints . Texts in Latin and Greek. Writers I knew and others I didn’t. Poets. Obscure theologians like Busenbaum, Ribadeneira and Sánchez. Here was even the latest novel by Mrs. Radcliffe! She stopped, smiling, when I could carry no more; and wordlessly she showed me from her rooms.
    Ironic, that I should be given a store of books that were to teach me of the world, of life, when all that would soon transpire at C——would make plain but one overarching lesson: I knew nothing . I held to a dream of friendship, as the Faithful hold to the dream of Redemption; but I knew nothing of friendship, nothing of love, certainly nothing of lust. Likewise, I was unacquainted with Evil, then.

3
The Devil’s Dance
    P ERONETTE , AS THE niece of the Mother Superior, the daughter of that woman’s beloved, afflicted sister, enjoyed privileges the other girls at C——did not. If this was to be expected, so too was the envy it incited.
    Peronette, more accurately, might be said to have assumed such privileges; they were not all accorded her by Mother Marie, whose heart beat weakly before her niece. Peronette came to C——quite spoiled. Once arrived, she remained so. Living among girls who sensed this favoritism and some nuns who, one assumes, did sometimes struggle against their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, all of which Peronette mocked, it would have been wise for Peronette, with her gaily-wrapped boxes arriving almost daily, chock-full of perfumes and candies and clothes, to have shown some discretion. She showed none. These parcels—sent by her father, who thus relieved himself of the duty of visiting his daughter—came from Paris, Vienna, Brussels, London; they came too from smaller cities where a certain craft was practiced perfectly: lengths of lace from Alençon, for example. Peronette would receive these parcels with utter equanimity. Often, I would be asked to open them. And often Peronette would let the contents lie wherever it was we’d laid them bare; and so some wanderer at C——may have come upon pink scallops of soap at the shore, candied fruits strewn through the woods.
    Yes, with her wild heart and untamed tongue, it would have been wise for Peronette to have exercised a little discretion, but no…. And the least hint of ill-will or censure simply encouraged her. She would wear a new and blindingly exquisite brooch to mass. She would pull an atomizer from the folds of her dress and spray lavender- or orange-water on a passing nun. And, as she enjoyed the protection of the Mother Superior, no one, not even Sister Claire de Sazilly, who ruled the Upper School with a simple and unwavering will, dared to discipline Peronette.
    To the private rooms of Mother Marie, Peronette enjoyed absolute rights of in- and egress. She spent more time there than in the dormitory. Any hour of the day she might slip away to those well-appointed rooms, forbidden to everyone else (I was fortunate, indeed, to have enjoyed library privileges there), and while away the hours; in the heat of the day she would strip down to her “inexpressibles” and take to the cool stone of the windowsill. Meanwhile, everyone else kept to the strict routine at C——, only slightly more relaxed during summer recess.
    I cannot say for certain that Mother Marie knew of her niece’s behavior. Someone would have had to alert Mother Marie to Peronette’s absence from services or class, or some other activity. And Mother Marie, who was the soul of sweetness to me, was feared by her sisters; more accurately, she intimidated them, with her beauty and extravagant ways.
    But surely the Mother Superior noticed the dwindling supply of wine in her cellar, the aroma of freshly smoked cigarettes in the still air of her chambers, the missing