An Introduction To The Eternal Collection Jubilee Edition by Cartland Barbara Page B

and yet Lizbeth heard the words.
    “Phillida!” She was both shocked and astounded. Everything she felt seemed to explode in her voice as she cried her sister’s name.
    “They believed me and they went away,” Phillida said, “but somehow I could not speak of such things to Master Hawkhurst. I felt he would not have listened to me. He wanted to be alone with me so that he could make love to me. He wanted to kiss me – he tried to – but – I managed to escape him.”
    The words were whispered, but even so they seemed to quiver raw and trembling on the air. Lizbeth’s arms tightened round her sister.
    “But I do not understand,” she said. “Why did you fear Rodney’s kiss? ’Tis not unpleasant.”
    “No man shall touch me.” Phillida moved now within Lizbeth’s arms, in the light of the candles her face was very white, her eyes wide and dilated. “Do you not understand? No man shall touch me.”
    “Do you mean you hate them all?” Lizbeth asked.
    “I hate them all,” Phillida repeated violently. “No, hate is not the right word, for we must hate no one, but I will not be touched. My body shall be given to no one it is – it is dedicated.
    “Phillida, you are not – a Catholic?” Lizbeth’s voice was hoarse.
    Phillida nodded.
    For a moment Lizbeth was speechless.
    “ But how – how did you become one?” she stammered at last.
    “You remember Mister Andrews?”
    “Francis’ tutor? But of course – You mean that he – ?”
    “He told me what I wanted to hear. I have always known that it was being kept from us. He took me several times, when we were supposed to go riding, to a friend’s house where Mass was celebrated. I was received into the Church by a priest who lay there in hiding. I am a Catholic, Lizbeth, and I wish above all things to became a nun.”
    For a moment Lizbeth was too aghast to speak and then she bent forward to kiss her sister’s white face.
    “You are braver than I ever guessed you could be.”
    The gentleness of her words brought tears to Phillida’s eyes.
    “You understand!” she said, “and I never dreamed I would find anyone in this house who would understand.”
    “I cannot pretend to understand your feelings,” Lizbeth answered, “but I admire you for doing what you wish to do. I thought that you had little interest in anything or anybody, which shows how mistaken one can be even in those one knows best.”
    “I dare not confide in anyone,” Phillida said. “Besides, it would be wrong to involve you in my secrets.”
    “To think that Mister Andrews was a Catholic and we never guessed it!”
    “He was desperately afraid of being discovered,” Phillida said. “Just as I, too, am afraid that Father will find me out.”
    “He will never guess unless you tell him,” Lizbeth said; “but he will think it strange if you refuse to be betrothed to Rodney.”
    “I know he will,” Phillida replied. “With the others I was able to speak to them first and send them away before they spoke to Father. Master Hawkhurst asked for my hand the very first night he came here.”
    “He wanted Father to give him money for his ship and he decided to offer for you even before he saw you, but when he did see you, he fell in love with you – that was what happened.”
    “It makes no difference how it happened. I cannot marry him. Jesus have mercy! I cannot. I have written to Mister Andrews asking him to help me.”
    “When did you send the letter?” Lizbeth asked.
    “Only today,” Phillida replied. “I gave it to one of the servants to take into Hatfield. He was just leaving, so there was no chance of Father seeing it.”
    “Or Catherine, I hope!” Lizbeth added. “Catherine is far more dangerous than Father when it comes to being suspicious of or suspecting us of doing anything that is reprehensible.”
    “Yes, I know that. She merely despises me. She thinks I am a fool – a fool who cannot get herself a husband, but she is afraid and jealous of