Summary:
One day, she overhears Lady Sheeks, Melanie's mistress, and Giles talking about a plan to put Elizabeth, Melanie's lady, in her "proper place." Melanie is intrigued.
Melanie sees Giles walking towards Elizabeth's chambers. She is filled with jealousy, but she knows that she must keep her feelings hidden.
Melanie's heart cries inside. She is heartbroken that Giles will never be hers, but she refuses to give up hope. She knows that one day, he will be hers.
Melanie wast still pinned at the mid-left slee'e by the pronged frame of the portrait behind her, but she dared not to bring this folly to her mistress’ attention.
The guard, howe’er, hesitated not to give her a seething eye, as she kept him out of his place. Melanie's mind buzzed far too a’great to acknowledge him.
She rolled her eyes at Elizabeth's blatant disrespect. Her breath fumed slow. The nerve of her lady. Guile. She tightened her lip, but only enough to remain unnoticed.
Their rapport wast a familiar civil war, ye, and when the battle engaged, 'twas only them left in this vain and cruel world. Still, she smelled blood, and more than the usual.
She wouldst be ill to shew her mind. Any servant girl deoth well to be discreet, and moreso with unkind thoughts of her mistress.
Though her elder lady hadth the right reputation of a proud bourgeoisie, the Lady Sheeks was the model for any who dared called themselves 'noblewoman.' She knew every rule of society and followed it to the letter, and never missed a step in lording it over others who ought wot it.
Elizabeth Sheeks wast deaf and blind to her mother’s heart and hearth, as well as all wisdom.
For Elizabeth's petty indignations, the Lady Sheeks was the most to be pitied of all women.
How fortunate ‘twas that there were greater matters than battling this stubborn child, whom she shalt soon dismiss.
O’ that the day wouldst sooner cometh, that Lady Sheeks couldst suffer her not. Melanie witnessed more joy in these past two sennights than seen in her twelve years in service. Now how much better, when all plans were achieved as hoped?
But not now. Not yet. And woe for it. Lady Sheeks’ endurance was both tested and required, lest she find herself unable to keep a ladylike temperament.
As she pondered this, the Lady Sheeks hasted forth. She hadth returned, and wast not required to give an account for it. She paused ere Melanie, but saw her not.
Thus Melanie dared to freely stare upon her.
Lady Sheeks leaned her head like a crane to glance at Elizabeth, who stood forlorn and vulnerable ere the window.
O’ that Melanie might wot the wise mind churning behind her narrowed black-painted eyes, and seize it for herself like a thief in the night.
Melanie snapped to attention. She sniffed once at the air. A sense of pure pleasure filled her heart, like new water in the vase. She formed a faint smile. O’ bliss! The best of all scents nigh approacheth; such a kind that maketh the sun rise in her soul. She sniffed again. Cigars. Irish ones.
She made a final good tug at the frame. It didst wobble as it set her free from its grasp, and yet no one took note of her. Why shouldst they? Low-borns and servants, when not required, were as good as absent or dead.
Giles, the Butler, glided past Melanie. Though he took as little notice of her as a ghost, she couldst pre'ent not her red blushes and lingering smiles.
She straightened her spine and chin, raised her bosom, and thence folded her soft hands behind her back. This posture, copied from the aristocratic ladies who posed in the portraits she cleaned, was meant to hide the girlish manner that deterreth him.
She stepped a couple paces thither her idols. She was inches away from Giles’ turned back, but he held eyes on Lady Sheeks, who gave him a knowing look. Lady Sheeks and Giles were master artists in silent conversation, but Melanie liked to belie'e her eyes listened better than her ears.
Giles wast as privy to Lady Sheeks' wiles and intrigues as Elizabeth herself, if not moreso. Though his countenance appeared to agree with all of Lady Sheeks mind, his heart was far from her.
With her eyes, Lady Sheeks spake that the time drew nigh to put Elizabeth in her proper place, and out of her misery.
Giles appeared deviously pleased.
The guard took his former place as if naught happened. No one noticed.
Despite her daily efforts in making attractive appearances, from the neatness of her curls to the impeccable cleanness of her soft skin, he looked not. Not e'en her sweet smells, which were perfected for naught but him, couldst lure him to her bosom.
Only when he gave the day's impressed orders, didst he acknowledge her. 'Twas no less her pleasure. She liked his eye upon hers, no matter the cause. Yea, e'en a delight of delights was this, and still she craved more.
Though he shan't consent, her heart wist its longing. O' that she couldst possess him! She might thence count herself richer than a queen.
He wast many for good old years, and yet still built like a young buck. For his back stayed straight, like the soldiers of the olden days.
How unfortunate to be appreciated not then, though his ability to command and guide others shouldst inspire all. A servant's haughty manner toward him confounded her. For he wore homage and time-honored commitments like a crowning aura. He wast a man of and for all men.
Lady Sheeks whispered something long and deep into his ear. What it must be to draw near to his smells, and command his attention with ease. O’ what wouldst she not give, that she might dare to hold the same privilege?
Melanie snapped out of her daydreaming with a few blinks. With this final thought, she remembered her place in shame. She lowered her head, still careful to hide her embarrassing blushes, and ran her finger behind her ear. A step back. She curled her left hand into her right palm. Right and well.
Melanie looked up and on, in silence. She wast as low as the lingering fog on a darkened road, as Giles nodded and smiled at the Lady Sheeks in great pleasure. The longing was greater than she couldst bear.
She frowned, as he walked thither Lady Elizabeth's apartments. There he went, with all the finest of his greatness, to her. She, his unworthy dove; the woman he lived to greet each day. She who exposed, with ease, the last measure of youth left in his aged heart.
She liked this not.
Her eyelashes batted at an increasing pace and her breath hadth tightened, along with the rest of her subdued chest.
O’ again! What wouldst Melanie not give, that he might entreat her like this? If she hadth but the single opportunity to be a lady, she couldst appreciate him greater than the ungrateful Elizabeth e'er managed.
His own longing drained the thrill of hers. Humbled by statuses to her true earthly place, she seethed behind a pursed face. Something must remedy this, lest she wither and die from futility.
Lady Sheeks noticed her demeanor not. She turned away, having been caught up in her mysterious thoughts.
At her departure, Melanie permitted the floodgates of tears to flow free from burning eyes. The thick saltiness creeping into her downturned lips were old friends. Their nightly downpours couldst fill milk bottles and be mixed with wormwood, then served hot on a plate amongst the porcelain and ashes.
All emotions bubbled up in her at once, like boiling water spilling over a cauldron's ledge. Her shuddering chest welled to a suffocating heave. How many agonizing days must she suffer this? Wast there no reprieve from her misery?
Yet for all this and e'er to her detriment, Melanie wouldst release not her grip. Like the last flicker of the candle's flame, so remained in her heart this hope: Giles shalt not fail to be hers. All her great pains and longsuffering were worth her prize, and so she put all in she hadth into this hope.
The guard, howe’er, hesitated not to give her a seething eye, as she kept him out of his place. Melanie's mind buzzed far too a’great to acknowledge him.
She rolled her eyes at Elizabeth's blatant disrespect. Her breath fumed slow. The nerve of her lady. Guile. She tightened her lip, but only enough to remain unnoticed.
Their rapport wast a familiar civil war, ye, and when the battle engaged, 'twas only them left in this vain and cruel world. Still, she smelled blood, and more than the usual.
She wouldst be ill to shew her mind. Any servant girl deoth well to be discreet, and moreso with unkind thoughts of her mistress.
Though her elder lady hadth the right reputation of a proud bourgeoisie, the Lady Sheeks was the model for any who dared called themselves 'noblewoman.' She knew every rule of society and followed it to the letter, and never missed a step in lording it over others who ought wot it.
Elizabeth Sheeks wast deaf and blind to her mother’s heart and hearth, as well as all wisdom.
For Elizabeth's petty indignations, the Lady Sheeks was the most to be pitied of all women.
How fortunate ‘twas that there were greater matters than battling this stubborn child, whom she shalt soon dismiss.
O’ that the day wouldst sooner cometh, that Lady Sheeks couldst suffer her not. Melanie witnessed more joy in these past two sennights than seen in her twelve years in service. Now how much better, when all plans were achieved as hoped?
But not now. Not yet. And woe for it. Lady Sheeks’ endurance was both tested and required, lest she find herself unable to keep a ladylike temperament.
As she pondered this, the Lady Sheeks hasted forth. She hadth returned, and wast not required to give an account for it. She paused ere Melanie, but saw her not.
Thus Melanie dared to freely stare upon her.
Lady Sheeks leaned her head like a crane to glance at Elizabeth, who stood forlorn and vulnerable ere the window.
O’ that Melanie might wot the wise mind churning behind her narrowed black-painted eyes, and seize it for herself like a thief in the night.
Melanie snapped to attention. She sniffed once at the air. A sense of pure pleasure filled her heart, like new water in the vase. She formed a faint smile. O’ bliss! The best of all scents nigh approacheth; such a kind that maketh the sun rise in her soul. She sniffed again. Cigars. Irish ones.
She made a final good tug at the frame. It didst wobble as it set her free from its grasp, and yet no one took note of her. Why shouldst they? Low-borns and servants, when not required, were as good as absent or dead.
Giles, the Butler, glided past Melanie. Though he took as little notice of her as a ghost, she couldst pre'ent not her red blushes and lingering smiles.
She straightened her spine and chin, raised her bosom, and thence folded her soft hands behind her back. This posture, copied from the aristocratic ladies who posed in the portraits she cleaned, was meant to hide the girlish manner that deterreth him.
She stepped a couple paces thither her idols. She was inches away from Giles’ turned back, but he held eyes on Lady Sheeks, who gave him a knowing look. Lady Sheeks and Giles were master artists in silent conversation, but Melanie liked to belie'e her eyes listened better than her ears.
Giles wast as privy to Lady Sheeks' wiles and intrigues as Elizabeth herself, if not moreso. Though his countenance appeared to agree with all of Lady Sheeks mind, his heart was far from her.
With her eyes, Lady Sheeks spake that the time drew nigh to put Elizabeth in her proper place, and out of her misery.
Giles appeared deviously pleased.
The guard took his former place as if naught happened. No one noticed.
Despite her daily efforts in making attractive appearances, from the neatness of her curls to the impeccable cleanness of her soft skin, he looked not. Not e'en her sweet smells, which were perfected for naught but him, couldst lure him to her bosom.
Only when he gave the day's impressed orders, didst he acknowledge her. 'Twas no less her pleasure. She liked his eye upon hers, no matter the cause. Yea, e'en a delight of delights was this, and still she craved more.
Though he shan't consent, her heart wist its longing. O' that she couldst possess him! She might thence count herself richer than a queen.
He wast many for good old years, and yet still built like a young buck. For his back stayed straight, like the soldiers of the olden days.
How unfortunate to be appreciated not then, though his ability to command and guide others shouldst inspire all. A servant's haughty manner toward him confounded her. For he wore homage and time-honored commitments like a crowning aura. He wast a man of and for all men.
Lady Sheeks whispered something long and deep into his ear. What it must be to draw near to his smells, and command his attention with ease. O’ what wouldst she not give, that she might dare to hold the same privilege?
Melanie snapped out of her daydreaming with a few blinks. With this final thought, she remembered her place in shame. She lowered her head, still careful to hide her embarrassing blushes, and ran her finger behind her ear. A step back. She curled her left hand into her right palm. Right and well.
Melanie looked up and on, in silence. She wast as low as the lingering fog on a darkened road, as Giles nodded and smiled at the Lady Sheeks in great pleasure. The longing was greater than she couldst bear.
She frowned, as he walked thither Lady Elizabeth's apartments. There he went, with all the finest of his greatness, to her. She, his unworthy dove; the woman he lived to greet each day. She who exposed, with ease, the last measure of youth left in his aged heart.
She liked this not.
Her eyelashes batted at an increasing pace and her breath hadth tightened, along with the rest of her subdued chest.
O’ again! What wouldst Melanie not give, that he might entreat her like this? If she hadth but the single opportunity to be a lady, she couldst appreciate him greater than the ungrateful Elizabeth e'er managed.
His own longing drained the thrill of hers. Humbled by statuses to her true earthly place, she seethed behind a pursed face. Something must remedy this, lest she wither and die from futility.
Lady Sheeks noticed her demeanor not. She turned away, having been caught up in her mysterious thoughts.
At her departure, Melanie permitted the floodgates of tears to flow free from burning eyes. The thick saltiness creeping into her downturned lips were old friends. Their nightly downpours couldst fill milk bottles and be mixed with wormwood, then served hot on a plate amongst the porcelain and ashes.
All emotions bubbled up in her at once, like boiling water spilling over a cauldron's ledge. Her shuddering chest welled to a suffocating heave. How many agonizing days must she suffer this? Wast there no reprieve from her misery?
Yet for all this and e'er to her detriment, Melanie wouldst release not her grip. Like the last flicker of the candle's flame, so remained in her heart this hope: Giles shalt not fail to be hers. All her great pains and longsuffering were worth her prize, and so she put all in she hadth into this hope.
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