Tempted By Innocence. Lyn Randal
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work, knew as well that all sinned and none stood perfect before God, but yet…how it disturbed him to be made aware of his own black heart, over and over, each time he closed the door of the confessional.
Even so, he was never hard on those who poured out their transgressions, often amid agonizing tears. Their guilt was his own. Empathy kept him seated, still and contrite, while they sobbed out their shame. Empathy made him return to the tight little box again and again, listening through the small latched door, crying his own guilt silently while they cried theirs aloud.
He closed the door and sat down, drawing his robe into a comfortable position around his long legs. “I am here for you, my child.”
A woman’s voice answered. “Padre, do you speak English?”
Diego’s chest tightened. It couldn’t be. Not her.
“Aye,” he answered, letting his accent come out thick and gruff, knowing the fear that as he’d recognized her voice, so she’d know him by his.
Or should he let himself be known? Should he open the latched door that separated them and let her view his face? Would that not be the honourable thing to do—now, before she said another word, before she bared her soul?
What would her reaction be? Diego tried to imagine it.
She would die.
She’d been held in the arms of a naked priest, a priest whose eyes must have shown the lust that had flamed within him. And even if his eyes hadn’t, the rest of him surely had. Oh, dear heavens. He was as trapped as he’d ever been. He couldn’t reveal himself. Listening to her confession was the only way to avoid savaging her dignity and destroying whatever semblance of decency remained to him.
“Father, I have examined my heart and am come to make my confession of sins to thee.”
He concentrated on the words, on their form, comforted by the movement into familiar ceremony. His response was sure. “You have prayed, then, and sought God’s leading?”
“Aye, Padre, prayed to know the true state of my soul.”
“And our Lord has led you to knowledge of your sins?”
“Indeed, and I fear what I’ve seen. There is lust in my heart, Padre. Lust, and unfaithfulness to one who believes me to be true.”
Diego could scarcely speak. “You’ve been unfaithful to a husband?”
“Nay, Padre. I have no husband.”
“In what way, then, unfaithful?”
“I’m betrothed to a nobleman in Spain. I hardly know him, but I’ve spoken vows of betrothal and am to wed him as soon as ’tis possible to do so.”
Diego had no words. She paused, expecting his response.
“Padre, are you there?” she asked finally.
“Aye.”
“Did you hear me well?”
“Yes. There is more?” Diego knew there would be more, and he did not wish to hear it.
Her voice took on a frantic edge. “Oh, Padre, I’m so ashamed of my wayward heart! I can’t control my feelings, though I wish to be upright, to be the fine wife Damian Castillo wishes of me.”
Shock impaled Diego’s heart.
His next words were stammered, tumbling out before he could hold back. “Damian Castillo? Damian Castillo?”
“Aye.” She paused. Diego envisaged the way she looked, the sharp way she tilted her head, her furrowed brow. “Padre? You don’t know him, do you?”
“I…the name is irrelevant, my child. Only your repentance is important now. Tell me more. In what way have you been unfaithful to your betrothed?”
“I felt lust for another man. He was a stranger to me. I don’t even know his name. But he rescued me from drowning. And I…I was overcome by a feeling I’ve never known before.”
“Perhaps what you felt was not lust, but some other fierce emotion. Gratitude at being saved, perhaps?”
“Nay, Padre. I’m familiar with gratitude. What I felt was an uncommon lust. I think I would have lain with him, I wanted him so badly.”
Diego closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, his throat tight.
“I don’t know why I was affected by him. Something in his eyes held my heart. I couldn’t look away. Now I can’t forget the magnificence of his body. He held me and our eyes met and something passed between us, something intense and beautiful. In that moment I wished to know him as a man. To be known by him as a woman. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to lie with him there in the forest, with green around us and blue above us. Perhaps he wanted it, too, for he—”
Diego cleared his throat. “That’s enough. It’s not best to dwell further on those images. Memory should serve judiciously. If aught reminds you of lustful feeling, it would be best to put such behind you.”
“I know, Padre. There’s the coil. I don’t wish to forget him.”
“Why wouldn’t you? The man’s a stranger. He means nothing to you. You’re already bound by sacred oath to another. You must forget this nameless man and find happiness with him who would be your husband.”
Diego heard her sigh. “Your suggestion is the proper thing,” she said, “and yet I doubt I can feel for my husband what I felt today. Nor am I sure I want to.”
Diego wanted to groan. “In time you’ll come to feel the same passion for your husband.”
She didn’t answer.
“Listen, my child. What you felt today was a natural thing, given as a gift by a loving God for his divine purpose, to lead mankind to couple and beget children. It’s a natural and beautiful thing, but meant to be enjoyed between man and wife. Not corrupted by—”
She cut him off with a low growl of frustration. “Corrupt? No, it was not. Were I to have lain with that blue-eyed man, there would have been something loving between us, something of warmth and care, something transcending all vows. Our souls seemed to entwine.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Padre, I’m not an immoral woman. Nineteen years old am I, and yet do I remain a virgin. Never have I wanted to make love with a man, not any man ever. But what happened today was wondrous. In my heart, I know our coupling would have been a thing of beauty. It felt good and right between us.”
Diego drew in a shaky breath. That much he could not deny. It had been wondrous. It had felt good and, yes, even right.
He bit back his first impulse, that of agreement. Instead, he did his duty. “There’s never a time when sin can be right. Had you lain with him, you’d be guilty of fornication. You might have conceived a bastard child. I know you don’t wish for such disgrace.”
Diego looked up at the ceiling of the small chamber, realizing how exquisite his own tension had become. “You must close your mind to further fantasies. To continue with them is to lead yourself into a world of folly.”
“Aye, Padre.” She was near tears.
“Pray God to keep your soul pure and your body untainted until you wed. You must pray this.”
“I will.”
She cried now. Tightness made his own chest ache. “Put aside your guilt, and with sincere heart seek the will of God. In this way, you are forgiven.”
The bell tinkled as she slipped away.
When he was sure she had gone, Padre Diego Castillo bowed his head and prayed for her soul…and his own.
* * *
Ricardo Alvarez looked down at his drink and then up at Diego, who paced the floor of terracotta tile in agitation.