Chapter Three:

After all the chores were done came my favorite part of the evening. I was allowed to walk through the gardens and explore the rolling hills of the moor. There was not much to see, but simply being outside of the dreary and desolate house was a gift from the heavens.
I tended to the servants garden, where everyone was given a small plot of land to work as they pleased. My plot consisted of nothing but one small flower, which only bloomed at night when a full moon was up. I had spent almost all my savings on that one seed, and cared for it with my life. I had never seen it open before, but was counting down the days till the next full moon. The flower bud was white, and I could faintly see thin strips of gold on the inside, as if the petals were lined with an iridescent glow.
After some time, I left the garden and wandered around the sides of the house. The winter was wearing away, and the ivy leaves that grew up the brick walls of Lithstone began to open up and shine with new life. I viewed these thoughtfully. If only everyone could close up for the cold, eerie parts of life and then open up, refreshed and rested, to a new, warmer stage of sunshine and golden times.
It began to grow darker, and I looked up at the shady sky with ease. The darkness had never scared me. I suppose one could admire that--after all, what comes after life, but darkness? I went back towards the house, almost in a daze from the serenity of the evening.
The cool breeze of the hall made me shiver as I wandered up the stairs toward the third floor. All the servants of the house were made to sleep on the top floor. Although I was not a servant in Margaret’s house, but a dependant, she treated me like a maid. This was not looked at with any disdain. Benefactors could treat their charge as they wished--they amounted to nothing in society.
England was a dreary place. It was full of nothing but walls. Walls that divided people among who was worthy and who was not. If you born into poverty, the only way out was to marry the wealthy, a very hard thing to do, considering a majority of the wealthy were fat, pompous dimwits that wanted nothing to do with servants and seamstresses unless it involved getting up her skirts. The rich remained rich, and the poor remained poor. This was something I had learned as a child, and had to remember throughout my life. I must always tolerate degradation, I must obey the commands of the higher ranks, I must pray faithfully or else be shunned, I must always call men above my status “master”, even if they were complete imbeciles who deserved less than a face full of horse excrement, and above all, I must always, under every circumstance, remember my place.

It was more than I could bear.

I had never wanted anything extravagant in my life. I had never wanted to sleep on a bed that didn’t give me knots in my back and sides. I had never wished for the simple luxury the wealthy young ladies called “A comb”. I had never wanted to meet any of my family--if there were any left, that is. I had never wanted more friends or more money. Mine was a simple existence. My desire was to go to school, learn French, drawing, and a bit of music, and to own my own piano someday. I could sometimes sneak into the drawing room when Margaret went out, and I’d play the old keys of the pianoforte as much as I pleased till Grace would warn me the carriage was drawing near. My other desire was to read. I longed for books, hundreds of them, thousands. Books came into my life very rarely. They were an incredible escape from the dark clouds that seemed always to surround Lady Margaret’s eerie abode.
The sun was down completely, and I found that, lost in my thoughts, I was now sitting on the third floor landing, staring at the shadows that played on the stairs. I shook away my thoughts, putting them away for the night, and went down the hall to the room I shared with Grace. I found my friend sitting on the edge of the bed, reading from a book who’s pages looked almost as worn out as she did. She had read that same book over and over again—it was her most precious possession. There was no particular reason why—I suppose it was a gift from one of her more sensitive family members.

She looked up and smiled when she saw me. Her grin somehow made the whole world brighter at that moment.

“They’re coming soon, I think.” She said anxiously.

“Are they?” I answered, not really knowing what to say.

“Yes! I’m so excited. We hardly ever see new people around here. It should be refreshing, don’t you think?” She chattered away, without taking a single breath.

“I suppose it will be.” I said calmly, going to the window of the hall and looking out at the serene night. The moon shown like a beacon, beckoning those who suffered to came take shelter in her sparkling gaze.

A chaise and four suddenly appeared, making its way up the drive. I motioned Grace to the window, and her grin lit up the room.

“They’re here!” She said.

She dragged me down the stairs to the kitchen, where the servants were all abuzz with chit chat.

“Alright!” Shouted Henrietta. “Now we all need to do the best we can to make the master and his guest comfortable! Is that clear?”

We all murmured our yeses. Henrietta nodded obnoxiously. “Okay then. I want this half of you to go make sure the bedrooms are all spic and span. This half of you, we’re greeting the master.” She split us up and off we went.

Grace and I were in the small group of servants that got to greet the master. Once again, I felt a strange gnawing at my insides, a feeling that said that I shouldn’t have to greet my own cousin as a maid. I ignored the feeling, just as I had always done, and stood up in a straight line with the others outside of the house. The carriage pulled up, and the footman opened the doors. The carriage was all black, with gold trim, and white lace drapes in the windows. I imagined how pretty Grace and I would look riding around in something like that. For a moment, I smiled, but that vanished as soon as Master John stepped from the coach.

He puffed up his chest like the proud donkey he was, and leaped from the carriage. First, he went to his mother, and embraced he so tightly, I thought she’s be crushed to death.

“Ah, mother. I’ve missed you.” He patted her shoulders as if she were a child, and smiled like anything.

“And I, you, my son. Now where is your companion?” She asked, looking toward the carriage curiously.

Another figure appeared in the doorway of the coach, dressed in all black. His short cropped black hair shown in the moonlight, and his bright brown eyes gleamed with the hint of orange. I had never seen eyes like those. He was pale—paler than any Englishman I’d seen before, and he sported a long, purple scar above his left eye. I tried not to stare at the marking, so as not to be impolite.

He stepped from the carriage with a confidence in his step, and strode quickly to the Mistress. He bowed low, and took her hand, kissing it dramatically.

“Good evening, Lady Benson. Thank you ever so much for allowing me to pass some time in your grand dwelling.” He said, smiling. His teeth gleamed like the full moon above us.

Grace looked at me, and we both stifled our laughter.

“And these must be your humble servants, my dear John!” Proclaimed the Master’s friend.

“Yes, that they are. And fine little women at that.” John winked at his friend as if he was implying that we were skilled at more than simple dusting and cooking.

“Well, then I shall introduce myself to the company.” Said the guest, puffing up like a peacock. “My name is Mr. Monty Bryans. I own a grand estate near London called Beckden Park. You may have heard of it.” He stuck his nose up in the air proudly. We all stared silently at this Monty Bryans. He was just the kind of person John would choose to bring home to his mother.

“Well then,” Said Margaret, “Shall we all come inside for some dinner? The cook has prepared geese tonight.”

“Oh, my favorite.” Mumbled Bryans, and his splendor vanished into the house.

“Wow. What do you think of that guy?” Grace asked with a laugh hidden in her smile.

“He reminds me of a peacock.” I said bluntly. We burst into laughter with many looks from the other servants. Henrietta came along and silenced us.