playful games did you and Guillaume indulge in during this past year of your understanding shall we say?”
“Why, mon Pere, he – he sometimes would kiss my neck and my bare arm, and sometimes, when I got him to be very bold, and to give up his blushing, he would put his hand on my knee.”
“Under your kirtle or outside it, my daughter?”
There was a short pause, and then a stammered little gasp: “U – under it, mon Pere, but only for a little time and not as high as my culottes,” (This, dear reader, meant that Guillaume's hand had not quite reached her pussy, which the dear child kept shielded in her virgin estate with a pair of drawers doubtless made of some cheap cotton, since only fine ladies and not farmers' offspring have the wherewithal to purchase undergarments of silk.)
“I applaud your candor, my daughter. And now let me speak even more frankly, and you must do the same. Have you or Guillaume ever watched the mating of the beasts in the field?”
“Oh, yes, mon Pere, many times. His father owns a bull that is named Hercule and my Maman has Daisy, which is our only cow. And Guillaume's father last November brought Hercule to Daisy's stall. He and Maman did not see me, so I was able to watch all that took place. C'etait epatant!”
“Oh, my daughter, what you have just said makes me shudder that you have discovered prurience at so tender an age!” he said in a grave voice. “Now tell me – and you must answer truthfully – when you saw this act of mating, can you say in all honesty that you did not desire Guillaume to attempt the same act with you? Do you know how it is that the husband and wife come together in sacred matrimony, my daughter?”
“But of a certainty, mon Pere,” now the dear child spoke with almost wonder, as if considering it incredible that the English ecclesiastic did not deem her mature and wise enough to comprehend what fucking was.
“And you give me your solemn word of honor that you and Guillaume have never acted out the play between Hercule and Daisy?” he relentlessly pursued.
“Oh, never, mon Pere!” the charming Louisette gasped.
“I am inclined to take your word, my daughter. But I would have more proof. Do you see, the Seminary at St. Thaddeus is staffed” (I very nearly burst into fleaish laughter, for the good Father had unwittingly used a word which in its utter and lascivious sense precisely designates the principle pursuit at the Seminary, namely, staff and pussy, the one into the other) “by diligent holy men who are not likely to be so indulgent with a minx as I am with you, Louisette.”
“What proof do you wish, mon Pere?”
“Why, to begin with, you will pretend that I am this Guillaume, and you will show me just how far you permitted him to let his sin-intending hand to ascend on your fair limbs. To give this greater verisimilitude, I shall take off my cassock and hat, so that I will look more like a man such as Guillaume himself is, though admittedly I am far older. There, I am ready. Now, so that we may have the exact duplication of the scene which the two of you played, tell me this: were the two of you sitting or lying upon the ground or in a bed of straw in the barn?”
“Why, Father, sometimes both.”
“Oh, my child, then this has happened more than once?”
“Of course, mon Pere. After all, Guillaume was to be my betrothed. And in Beaulieu there are other very pretty girls who would steal him away from me if they could and who would have given him even more than I did, so I did not think it was wrong to hold him to me by such innocent little devices.”
I perceived here that the charming Louisette was in her own way as purposeful and guileful as good Father Lawrence, and I silently applauded her. At least this discussion served to take my mind from the insurmountable fact of my imprisonment, and acted thus as a mental stimulant for which I was most grateful. “Well, then, my child, we shall take one or the other of these locales in our enactment of your naughtiness. Let us, for the sake of comfort, use this good bed, which is sturdy and wide, to approximate the bed of straw in the barn. Do get upon it and lie as you did when Guillaume made his advances.”
Another moment or two followed and I heard the creaking of the bed, as the charming creature ascended it and took her place. Then I heard her call, “This is how I was on the day before Shrove Tuesday, mon Pere.”
“Now you must show just how Guillaume behaved and in what position he was when his hand slid under your kirtle, my daughter,” Father Lawrence said, and then I heard the bed creak more noisily with his great weight and strength and he too assumed his place upon it. I was in his cassock pocket, but evidently not too far from the bed, for I could hear clearly all that proceeded.
“It – it was like this, mon Pere. He lay on his left side towards me on my back, and he stared at my face and he blushed like a timid girl. Then I told him that if he loved me truly, he would not just stare at me but would find ways to praise me if he found me pretty.”
“So then you were the temptress rather than he being the seducer, my daughter?”
“Why no,” the dear child naively responded, “I did not do anything but suggest to him how he could please me. It was up to him to do it or not.”
Father Lawrence had indeed met his match in Louisette! Her casuistry was as able as that of the most skillful heretic in all Christendom who found himself on trial for his very life at the stake, if he could not avoid the ingenious pitfalls set for him by the bevy of Grand Inquisitors. I strained my flea-ish ears so that I would not lose a single word of this fascinating conversation.
“Well, we will let that pass for the nonce,” he said, and I thought I discerned a certain heaviness and huskiness in his voice. Also, there was another creaking of the bed which suggested that he had moved still closer to the charming Louisette. “Now show me exactly what happened next on the occasion of which you speak, my daughter.”
“Why, Father, I had hold of his hand, which was trembling, and I moved a little closer to him while at the same time drawing his hand toward my limb till his fingertips rested on my ankle. And then I stared up at him and said that it was very pleasant to be touched by one's intended fiance.”
“Well,” Father Lawrence thoughtfully responded, “it cannot be gainsaid that there is truth in that maxim, though from it may spring more dangerous ramifications which you yourself might never have intended. But continue, and spare not a detail of the incident, on your hope of salvation, my daughter!”
“Well, mon Pere,” Louisette continued in her charmingly sweet, little voice, “his fingers seemed to leap away as if he were afraid of being burned. But when I said that I was not offended, presently he put his hand back again, and this time all fingers firmly, on my calf. I kissed him on the tip of his nose and I giggled and I told him that I liked him very much and that it was very pleasant to have his fingers touch me so. Whereupon he kissed me hard upon the mouth and, doubtless in his excitement, mon Pere, his hand seemed to slide upwards. Before I knew its destination, it had slid under my kirtle and along my bare thigh just to the hems of my culottes. I then grasped his hand through my kirtle and told him it was not yet seemly for him to be so bold so soon, at least not till we were properly betrothed and had our banns read from the pulpit.”
“That was sensible and righteous, my daughter. But do not stop now, for you are at the very crux of your confession. Now, let me understand you, Louisette. You were lying thus and Guillaume – whom by now I am proxy for – was on his side towards you. It was his right hand, I presume which fell upon your dainty little limb?”
“Oui, mon Pere.”
“And then, from what you have just now told me, you kissed Guillaume hard on the mouth with his right hand already upon your slim ankle, like so? Well, let us repeat precisely those past actions, so that I may judge your audacity or ingenuousness, as the case may be.”
“Oh, Father, I – I should never be so bold as to offend you!”
“It will offend me more if you do not obey your guardian, dear Louisette. Come, kiss me now upon the mouth, and tell yourself that I am in Guillaume's place as his substitute.”
Upon such eloquent urging, many a far more mature female than the charming Louisette had capitulated to Father Lawrence. So I was not surprised when I then heard the sound of a smacking and rather long kiss, which, knowing Father Lawrence as I did by now, I am certain that he himself prolonged and abetted. There was now a stifled little squeal as Louisette fairly gasped out, “Oh, Father, F – Father, Guillaume did not put his hand up as high as that, truly he did not! Oh, and his fingers were never inside my culottes – oh, oooh, Guillaume – I mean, Father – you must not do that, it tickles me so much that my senses begin to swim!”
“Are you certain that this gentle young man did not, once he had found how satiny smooth the bare skin of your thigh is, dear Louisette, wish to taste with his sensitive fingers the sweetest fruit of all which nestles between those shapely limbs? Never once?”
