Seeing Lord Jones leave was worse than leaving her home behind. It was as though with that one kiss he had sucked her heart out through her mouth and carried it away with him. She wanted to chase after him. To beg for it back.

And yet she still felt a heart beating in her chest, too hard and fast for her to ignore it. If he had her heart... she remembered the tears in the corners of his eyes... then she must have his. She lifted her hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating hard enough for the both of them, both of their hearts in one single chest, lonely and yet exactly where they belonged.

She heard some gentle footsteps walking in behind her. She did not move. She could already tell who it was from the reassuring presence.

“An echo from the past?” Sister Elisabeth asked, squeezing Lucy's shoulder.

Lucy nodded. “A man I used to love,” she replied.

“Used to?” Sister Elisabeth pressed.

“And still do,” Lucy confessed. “How can I become a nun if I am still pining for the touch of a man.”

“We were all girls once,” Sister Elisabeth replied.

Lucy turned around. “Do you mean to say that you...? The other sisters...? Everyone?”

Sister Elisabeth nodded. “Yes. Some of us still feel love for those we have lost.”

“That sounds awful,” Lucy found herself saying.

“These things happen. Especially for those of us who convert after twenty. I had a few young men pursue me when I came here, believe it or not,” Sister Elisabeth said.

“But how do you cope? How do you go twenty, thirty, forty years without a man you love?” she asked.

“For some of us it is impossible to return to them. They are married, or deceased, or all but gone,” she began. “For others it is a process of discovering things which matter to us as much as love and romance do. We all have our own way of joining the order. And some never make it. Some return.”

“Some nuns go back to their old lives?” Lucy asked.

“Of course they do. To be a nun after a normal life is too much for some. Those of us here consider ourselves to be widows to the men and lives we lost, and wives of Christ. But some women are not meant to be bonded to our Lord until they pass on. There is nothing wrong with that,” Sister Elisabeth explained.

“But how do you know when it is time to stay or time to go?” Lucy replied, her heart heavier than ever.

“At the end of the day, we will always know in our heart of hearts what is right for us,” Sister Elisabeth replied. “I shall leave you to think about it. It seems you are not as committed to this life as you need to be.”

“I am not at all sure,” Lucy replied with a sigh. “How do I know?”

“Do not think about it too much. Just follow your heart. Because that is where God is, and that is where He placed your purpose.” Sister Elisabeth explained.

Lucy was not convinced. Because her mind told her that she was doing the right thing. But her heart of hearts cried out for Lord Jones. And she was not sure that she wanted to be alone. She wanted to have someone by her side, to keep her company and reassure her that she was doing the right thing.

“Please, do not go,” Lucy asked. “I need someone by my side. Someone to let me know what I am doing or saying is right.”

“My dear child, you do not need someone else to tell you that. The only right and wrong is what was determined to be your path by God. And the map of that path is within you, nobody else,” Sister Elisabeth explained. “What do you think is right?”

“I... I think the right thing is to marry him,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “But he will not marry.”

“Not all men remain against marriage forever. Perhaps he will come back some time for you,” Sister Elisabeth said.

Lucy shook her head. “I am worried that he shall never change his mind.”

“Could you marry someone else, knowing that perhaps he would change his mind?” Sister Elisabeth asked.

Lucy sighed. “I could not marry someone else even if I knew for sure that he would never return,” she confessed.

“Then you would do the right thing to be here, waiting, would you not? At least then you know you are well, and he would know where to find you. And, as I said, some younger Sisters are not truly prepared for a solemn vow, and return to common life. Some Sisters here believe they are wicked and sinful for doing so, but myself...” she paused and shook her head, “I believe that they are good of heart, and that God is calling them to a different path, a different mission. There is nothing wrong with another life, so long as it is according the God's plan.”

Lucy nodded. “I suppose, I do believe it is God's plan that we be together. Even if he does not.”

“Then by the grace of God, perhaps he shall be saved,” Sister Elisabeth replied, hugging Lucy warmly. “Until then, do what you feel is the right thing.” With one last reassuring squeeze of the shoulder, Sister Elisabeth walked back out the room, closing the door behind her, leaving Lucy on her own.

Lucy wondered why, after specifically asking not to be left alone, Sister Elisabeth had still walked out the door. Did she not see that Lucy still needed guidance, reassurance, help? Almost anyone else in Lucy's life up until that point would have stayed until she found a solution.

And that was the problem. Everyone was offering her so much help, she never had to think about anything for herself. She never had to make her own decision. Sister Elisabeth had told her that any path, so long as it was godly, would be fine. And then she had left. It was Lucy's job to choose that path. And the path she would rather take was... the one that led to Lord Jones.

Of course, perhaps he would change his mind given enough time. She looked out the window. But that would mean relying on him to act first. Relying on others to make their decision. And she had made hers. So why wait?

She was not sure she could wait for a miracle. She needed to confront him. She needed to ask him.

Lucy walked out the door with determination in her step, and was surprised to almost walk right into Sister Elisabeth, who was waiting outside with a knowing smile.

“Have you made your decision?” Sister Elisabeth asked, as though she already knew the answer.

“I need a coach, to go to town,” Lucy said.

Sister Elisabeth nodded understandingly. “I shall make sure that one is prepared as soon as possible. Would you like to pack anything?”

Lucy shook her head. “Depending on what happens, I might be returning to stay. I shall pack if I get the answer I want.”

“And what answer would that be?” Sister Elisabeth asked.

“I pray for a 'yes',” Lucy replied.

The coach trip was the most tension Lucy had ever felt in her life. This was not her first decision she made on her own. Nor was it her first spontaneous action. But it was the first time she felt that her own decision could truly change something in her life. The first time she was not leaving her future up to the commands, actions, or suggestions of someone else. The first time that her fate actually hung in the balance. And that was terrifying.

Lucy arrived at the inn. She knew he would be there. It was the only inn in town, and if he had expected to win her over, he might have ordered a room to stay in by night.

There was a young girl, probably no older than fourteen, sitting awkwardly at the reception guest, guarding the keys with an expression like a determined bulldog.

“Excuse me?” Lucy asked.

The girl's eyes softened at the sight of a nun's habit. “Yes, Sister?”

“Is there a man here by the name of Lord Andrew Jones?” she asked. “I have to talk to him.”

“Lord Andrew Jones gave in his keys around ten minutes ago, Sister,” the girl at the reception desk said. “But my father asked him where he was going and he said he would have lunch before ordering a coach.”

“Where would he be having lunch?” Lucy asked.

“At the front of the inn. The pub is a restaurant by day. Although if you would rather not enter it, Sister, I do understand, and I shall call for him,” the girl explained.

Lucy shook her head. “That will not be necessary. Where is the pub?”

The girl nodded towards a large oak door which connected the inn to the brewery and pub next door, apparently owned by the same family.

Lucy walked up to the door and pushed it open. She could see why a nun might not wish to be in there. Despite their best efforts to clean it up for daytime clientele, it was abundantly clear that the pub, stinking of beer and more than a little worse for wear, was the sort of establishment best viewed by night, and best smelled when inebriated. Nevertheless, there were a few men sitting at the tables, drinking coffee and talking as though they were right at home.

She looked around the room. Her eyes landed on a familiarly rugged face with skin ever so slightly more tanned than the other guests. He had not spotted her.

Slowly, she approached him, second-guessing her every step, wondering how he would react to her presence, to what she had to say... Resting a hand on his shoulder, she felt him jump as he looked at her, as though he had seen a ghost.

“Lucy?” he asked in slight disbelief.

She nodded and smiled.

“Why are you here? Have you reconsidered?” he asked, his voice beginning to take on a hopeful tone, the corners of his lips curling up, his green eyes twinkling.

“Not exactly,” she replied, “I would like to speak to you about this in private.”

Lord Jones paused, then nodded and smiled. He folded his newspaper and placed his half-finished coffee on top of it. Then he stood up, put on his hat, and followed Lucy out of the pub door, into the hotel, and into the empty corridor which led to the bedrooms.

Once they were alone together she took a deep breath. This was it. “Back at the convent,” she began, “Sister Elisabeth said to me that in my heart of hearts I would know what was the right thing to do. And I suppose I always have known what the right thing to do was, but I've always turned to other people to give me a reason to not do what I knew to be right.”

Lord Jones nodded sternly.

“And I believe you are doing the same thing. Seeking any excuse to avoid doing the right thing, to stick to your convictions even when they have been proven wrong,” Lucy continued.

“Where are you going with this?” Lord Jones asked, looking a little perplexed. “Do you not want to be at the convent? Would you... would you like to come home with me? Or... run away with me?”

Lucy shook her head. “All my life I have been indecisive. I have waited for others to decide for me, to give me a suggestion or a command I could follow. But I should have been making my own decisions. And I am ready to make a decision right now. And that decision has nothing to do with what you want from me, or what my parents want. It is not what has been suggested to me, or commanded of me by society at large. It is what I know to be good, and godly, and the right choice for me.” She could feel her hands sweating and shaking.

“You need to say what it is if you want me to know,” Lord Jones said, clearly as eager to hear it as she was to say it.

“Seeing as you will never ask me to marry you,” Lucy drew a deep breath, “Lord Andrew Jones, would you be my husband?”

“I... I cannot, Lucy,” Lord Jones replied, stammering a little. “I am not ready to marry, I doubt I ever shall be.”

“But it is the right thing to do,” Lucy replied. “You desire me, and I desire you. God made man and woman to be one flesh. And for that we must marry. Why deny ourselves and the world the goodness which would come from our union? We are not martyrs. We do not need to be. We could be lovers. We could be examples.”

Lord Jones shook his head slowly. But he did not go anywhere. He was awkward, shy, vulnerable... His loving core was exposed to her yet again. And she loved it. It was raw perfection. Everything she wanted in a man she found in him: he was strong, yet loving, resilient yet vulnerable, cynical yet tender. He was the perfect balance of everything she needed.

“You were afraid of marriage because, like me, you did not feel you could trust women, or marriage. But I am not asking you to trust women or marriage. I am asking you to trust me. Do you trust me?” Lucy asked, clasping his hand tightly.

“I do. I do trust you,” he replied, his face flushing bright red. “And I shall marry you. You insane woman.”

Lucy felt her heart beat speed up even more, so fast she was not sure if she was dying, or living for the first time in years. She looked into his eyes and felt an appreciative tear trickle out of the corner of hers and glide down her face.

He grinned, his free hand rising to stroke her cheek so gently, so tenderly... She sighed. When he needed her to be strong, she was there for him to lean on. And when she was weak, he was there for her to lean on. It was a match made in heaven. And now it could be made real. Now she could be his forever.

His lips locked with hers and she briefly wondered what anyone would think if they walked in. What would they would make of a well-dressed unmarried gentleman, standing in a hotel hallway, kissing a young woman in a nun's habit?

A half second later she did not care. It was not about what others might think or judge. Not about what they think she ought to do, or what they would do in her situation. It was about her, and him, and what was right. This was the right thing to do.