Singer from the Sea Read Online Free PDF

had never imagined one with twitching loins.
    “Lust is not something we wish to dwell on at our stage of life,” said Miss Eugenie, the instructress in spiritual health. “The less said or thought about one’s loins at this stage of life, the less trouble one will have later on. It is Mrs. Blessingham’s view that for covenantal and Godly Noblewomen, sexual feelings and attractions should be avoided as long as possible. The practical applications ofsexuality are best dealt with when the necessity presents itself. Now we are more concerned with acquiring resignation and dedication, for the sake of our souls.”
    The state of one’s soul was considered important both for noblewomen and those aspiring to that state: i.e., daughters of the wealthy bourgeoisie whose papas coveted a title in their families. All such women were expected to be pious, to have imperturbable poise, rocklike dedication to the covenants, and a broad background of conversational information covering all the fields of general interest in Haven. Since all aristocratic women were presumed to be future mistresses of establishments, they had also to master the skills of personnel management and training, the economics of a large household and the basics of court etiquette and dress. These were studies enough, all told, to fill all the years before the question of twitching loins would become urgent (one dared hope) at the imminence of marriage.
    Though many lower-class women would be married before twenty, covenantal women were “allowed the gift of youth,” as it was phrased in the covenants, as compensation for the oath every noblewoman took at marriage: “I vow a covenantal life spent in my husband’s service.” Thirty was the accepted age of marriage for noblewomen; most bore no more than two or three children; and any extra risk they might encounter by delaying childbearing was supposedly compensated through the services of off-planet physicians—though some of them perished in childbirth nonetheless. Off-planet physicians and medical supplies—along with grav-sleds, various weapons and “a few other oddments”—had always been on the Lord Paramount’s “short list” of essentials.
    Late marriage was a comforting thought, Genevieve admitted to herself, though red-haired, green-eyed Barbara thought otherwise.
    “I am sick unto death of Mrs. Blessingham’s. I don’t know why they are so determined here to delay us, delay us, delay us. No marriage until late twenties. No babies until one is thirty, at least. And no sensible reason for any of it except that the older we are, the better prepared we will be. It’s ridiculous! Pray heaven some impecunious butstalwart lord will show up so Papa may impress him with my dowry and I may go elsewhere!”
    “Before you could marry a lord, you’d have to be accepted by the Covenant Tribunal,” retorted Carlotta. “Probably the Tribunal won’t even accept a commoner your age!”
    “Oh, pooh! Covenant, covenant, that’s all I hear. You nobles certainly like to make life difficult and boring for yourselves.”
    To which Genevieve silently but wholeheartedly assented. The covenants were like a strict nanny, always saying no or don’t or can’t. “No singing, Jenny. Singing girls are like crowing hens. Both of them come to the same bad ends.” “No running, Jenny. Covenantal girls conduct themselves with decorum.” “No dreaming of Prince Charming, Jenny. Don’t forget:
    “‘Covenantal daughters marry who
…
    ever their papas tell them to!
’”
    Daughters of the covenants were required to bear their children at home and nurse them for at least a year, thus joining noble nurture to noble nature. Daughters of the covenant were required to rear their daughters as they themselves had been reared, through an untroubled and godly girlhood to a dutiful maturity of gracious submission.
    Long ago, when she was much younger and had not learned to display resignation, Genevieve had rebelled