Chapter Nine

    Tessa paused in the cobblestone corridor. She wiped her burning eyes with the back of both of her hands. She was but a moment away from being alone, save for the other girls, in Hannah’s presence, and she knew not how she might react to her. 

Melanie hadth made her first empty promise of what couldst be many to follow. How was she minded that she shouldst protect her, if she had not the inclination to be there? 

Tessa looked back to ask if she might still come with her, but Melanie's light-hearted clicking footsteps hadth already trailed away into an open silence. 

Twas said that there was a particular manner in which the former Lady Sheeks couldst slam a door, in that it couldst make thy entire body quake in a single gesture. Melanie mimicked this well, though she hadth scarcely the time that she couldst put it into practice before this day. 

Twas a symbolic reminder that as much respect was due to her as given to her late mother. Strange to say, that this was not a trait adopted by Lady Elizabeth, who, save for Tessa’s own encounter, was little known for intimidation. 

Twas clear now that if anyone found comfort in the thought that things wouldst change because the former Lady Sheeks died, they were to be the most mistaken. As of this day and hour, the Melanie Bath she knew was gone, having become dead and possessed by a young version of the immortal old bat. 

Tessa gripped the cool horizontal brass door handle to their old sleeping quarters, and she found herself overcome with a terrific trembling. 

Beyond this door was a room, and naught but a room. Twelve meters long and twelve meters wide. Two plain blue-grey cots and wool blankets to match, two wooden doors, cobblestone walls, and a single small window overlooking the countryside; whose hilly view marred an endless grouping of brown oaks. 

One need only look out upon them to dream of things as far out of their grasp as the moon and stars. They wouldst then just as easily turn away to their darkened realities, which always waited at their backs. 

It stank of years of leftover dew and rain which hadth sank into the stones and never left, but rotted into the uneven sediments.

In this room, which she and Melanie shared from their start, didst they ever speak their minds with plainness and equalness to one another. They cried and they wished, and ever with as much sadness in their young and frail hearts, for didst they long for greater things. For many nights they often pretended themselves royalty in both words and playful practice, and twas a great jest which withstood many rebukes for silence from the other dream-less girls who lost sleep on their account.

She entered the room, carrying hopes that she might go unnoticed as the ladies busied about gathering Melanie’s small amount of insignificant possessions. 

Hannah was the first person to look up at her, and she was strangely pleasant as she balled an old pale oil-stained sheet at her wide chest. 

"Hast she declared thou a duchess by proxy, miss Tessa?" she said, teasing with a smirk. 

"Nay. I shalt be made a Head Lady of the Bedchamber," Tessa responded.

Tessa was now flushed in the face; the redness brought out the darkness of her scattered freckles across her nose. She waited for Hannah to abandon her feigned friendly demeanor and charge at her, like a beast from the unassuming tall grasses, but twas found to her relief that she wouldst not change her countenance.

Hannah coughed and she shook her head as she billowed a dusty bed sheet in her face. 

"I am not surprised," she said, "and it matters not. For thou art in for some hard days, my ladies. She fancies herself a true queen now. And I, for my part, shan’t stay to tolerate it." 

Though a part of her longed to argue and sneer back, Tessa knew the friend she wouldst sooner defend was gone, and this painful pretender was worth no defence.

Tessa curled her lips. 

She said, "Hannah, I am the most sorry. For, I.." 

Hannah shook her head and she raised her hand to quiet her. 

She said, "Save thy words. Thou art not my first brawl, or even one of much consequence for thy smallness, and thou shan’t be my last. My father raised me in much the manner he wouldst for the son he never lived to have. He, in his drunkenness, taught me well to take my hits and shoves much like a man, and I hadth taken my share over this lifetime. Now wipe thy eyes over me, Head Lady of the Bedchamber, and grab the other end of this sheet." 

Tessa obeyed her, as she often didst to all who required her. Even among the lesser of the servant classes, there were yet certain ranks. Giles governed them all only a little less than the ladies of the house themselves. Then, for a time, Melanie was just below his standing, as Lady Sheeks personal attendant. Hannah behind her, who served as second to the Lady. Then Farrah, who governed us through the enforcement of Giles’ orders. All other girls were to obey these superiors, and then there were scullery maids themselves, who were under the authority of even these low ones.

Tessa was but only a scullery maid and therefore, saw any of these other girls very little. She hadth heard much from the passing whispers and at times, Melanie’s own lips, of Hannah’s inclination to pester and lord herself over the younger and weaker of the lots, which often included the Lady Melanie herself. She was of much girth and a deep voice, and her eyes burned like amber stones set ablaze.

"She shan't want this old sheet," Tessa said. 

Her mind recalled the nights whence they stayed up curled beneath it, giggling about Giles, noblemen, and the perks of a better life. Her heart shivered in her chest, as she knew once more that Melanie's ascension to the ranks of nobility was naught as they imagined. 

"Art thou minded to frown so constantly?" Hannah asked, inciting giggles from the other girls, “that thou might bring down the room so low? We must celebrate. The old bat is dead and 'tis soon that Melanie shalt be just as far removed from us.”

A wooden side door clunked from the outside, and the sudden noise dropped a dead silence over the room. 

"I think she listens," Tessa whispered. 

Her eyes widened. She, for her part, hadth naught to fear from Melanie's presence, but she dreaded the inevitable and vengeful interlude 'tween Hannah and her old friend.

She whipped her head around. Her heart quickened in pace. For twas now certain that the ladies were not alone and not so free to speak as they imagined. Tessa was minded to believe, according to her new position, that not only with regard to Hannah, wouldst Melanie exact an easy revenge on the whisperers and backbiters who pretended themselves as her friends.

Every eye in the room focused and narrowed on the door, but it remained as still and silent as their own persons. 

"Twas like enough a mongoose," Hannah said, clutching the dirty sheet at her waist, "They art always running around here, art they not? I see, as I always didst, plainly that there is not much difference 'tween such a wily animal and Melanie. Her Majesty Queen Melanie. Queen Sheeks. Queen of the under-waged house servants. Queen...of the mongoose." 

Every lady in the room, except for Tessa, didst burst into a bawdy and most haughty laughter. 

"Thou art quite bold to speak. For what if she were here to argue it," Tessa said, "Doth thou not fear what she can do now as thy superior?" She placed emphasis on the word ‘superior,’ though she could naught acknowledge her as her better.

Tessa lowered her eyes and she lowered the tight-fisted sheet at her narrow hips.

"I fear her not," she replied, cheerful as she yanked the sheet from Tessa's grip, "and I care very little."

"Wherefore shouldst you? When twas thee," Tessa paused a moment to wonder if she herself might be too bold. She hadth already started stating her peace, and it seemed unfitting that she might not finish it, even with little regard to the offense it may cause, "who treated her the harshest of us...for whom she hast the greatest call for vengeance that I ever in my life hath seen from this day."

Hannah dropped the clump, and then she stomped on it, "I fear her not! I fear her not! For I shalt be gone in but a single fortnight, from both her mind and her presence. I shalt go, and I wilt find a husband who shalt drink with me into the long hours of the night, and then we shalt sleep for all our days. I leave no room to care in my life for Melanie’s position or her vengeance. I fear her not, I tell thee. I fear her not."

The other servants collectively clapped, whistled, and raised their cheers to her favor. Then, they all gathered together, and formed a long and deep embrace. 

Tessa watched from the outside, and remained expressionless as she sighed and folded her arms. Melanie hadth taken her by surprise many times in but a single morning, and even now threatened to snap the frail thread of their friendship. 

Hannah and Melanie were the strongest of enemies in this house, and there stood no prediction for what awaited Hannah while Melanie thrived and lorded about in her new station.

Farrah shook Tessa's shoulders from behind her. 

Tessa ignored her, for she hadth now sunken into her worrisome thoughts like quicksand.

"Hath thou suckled lemons, Tessa?" Farrah said, still shaking her into a one-sided hug, "Hath good cheer. If for no other reason, then for Hannah’s sake! For she hast officially survived the Sheeks’ clan, and we hath survived her."

Hannah said, as she patted their backs, "Thou hast surely not heard the end of me.'" 

The door rattled, and then slammed against the stone wall. 

Melanie stormed into the center of the room quicker than anyone might take to think of the source of the disturbance. In this swift gesture, didst all merriment cease and die in that single instance. Not a smile or hope dared to exist in her dark and dominating presence, lest they be thought to openly challenge her power.

At first she stood among them, like a shadowy ghost, with a quiet and careful aim to send like terror down the spines of all who dwelled in the room. 

She careened with a swan-like grace, and made a circle in her steps as she laid a calculating glance over each frigid soul, pouring out her authority and pride into each one of them with two raised and lowered eyes.

Her wide-eyed glare turned to Hannah and she tightened her lips. There stood no doubt that she heard every prideful word, and that she was minded to pay her back for every last syllable.

Hannah hadth little time to run and much inclination to this fear she previously denied, which now stood plain on her whitened face.

Melanie, ever a true mongoose according to her reputation, was as quick as she was creative. If at any time she wanted to strike the target at Hannah's bulging back, she shan’t wait long to make her mark. A nigh lifetime of her suffering commanded it, like yet unfulfilled justice for spilled blood.

As she passed by Tessa, she could smell the expensive cinnamon and honey perfume coming from her slender neck in large wafts, as strong as if she had poured the whole bottle upon herself. 

She grinned wide, and it caused every lady to gasp and take a step back. 

Hannah joined the other girls as they curtsied low to the floor. 

Melanie said, blinking, "I hath heard from Giles that thou art minded to leave us."

"That is so...my lady," Hannah said. 

She was barely audible as she kept her face lowered to the stones.

"I must say that we were sorry to hear of it. For, thou were always someone I couldst look up to." 

"Yea, my lady," Hannah said, "I thank thee. My-y lady."

"I hath a gift for thee," she said, grinning wider, "Twas an heirloom that belonged to my late stepfather. Nay, everyone knows it well that I knew him not, save for meeting during my service, but I find that, as a lady, I hath no need for it." 

She reached in the golden silk purse at her slender waist and pulled out a small blade, gleaming of polish and sheathed in a folded sheet of crushed red velvet.

Tessa recognized it from its place on Elizabeth's vanity, but she spake nothing. 

Melanie possessed much courage to steal such a fine treasure, which few knew belonged to her sister. For, she must hath considered what a mistress may do to a thieving servant, and that she was not still in such a place, and therefore not subject to their same punishments. This, who they beheld before them, was not only a woman full of pride and vengeance, but now she was completely absent of fear. 

For all this, Melanie yet lacked. She seemed to forget that there was plenty to fear of Elizabeth, who is a lawful daughter and thereby of much more value to the Sheeks’ name. She couldst do much about her petty theft, even to a duchess, and couldst be minded to bring her down as quickly as she was raised up.

Hannah kept her head low, and was yet unable to see this devious gift.

She stammered, "My lady, I know not what to say to thee."

Tessa said, under her breath, "Say nay. I beg thee, Hannah. Refuse her."

"Couldst thou not give me thanks?" Melanie suggested. 

She craned her head forward and made a light, yet wicked, smile. 

"I thank thee," Hannah said, "My lady. And may God bless thee."

Hannah stumbled over her feet as she rose up from the floor. 

She towered at least six inches above Melanie’s high head, and yet appeared as intimidated as though she were but the size of the latter.

The shine of steel, still half-exposed beneath the velvet, flickered under Hannah's widened eyes. Hannah's gaze betrayed her astonishment at Melanie's sudden generosity, as opposed to the vengeance she rightfully expected.

Melanie took a single step forward, and she hugged her.

The ladies stepped back a second time and gasped. They clutched each other’s hands tight.

Tessa was sure that in the next moment, as she imagined the other ladies thought likewise, that Melanie might drive the bodkin in Hannah's back. Then in her power, she wouldst swear them to silence, lest they might be tossed to the streets like a common rabble. 

There was instead, a thanks to God, for she didst no such thing. Long breaths exhaled. Eyes closed long, and then they opened. Hands relaxed. The relief was welcome, but twas not to live long. 

Under Tessa’s own observation, didst she do a thing more awful, as she slipped the stolen knife and cloth in Hannah's tan apron pocket. Though she spoke it not, Tessa hadth the privilege to know Melanie’s mind almost as much as the lady knew herself, and she couldst see plainly the shameful plan Melanie intended.

“Though we hath many differences," Melanie said, "I find I must treat thou deservedly upon thy leaving. I want thou to give thou every cause to remember me."

Melanie's foot brushed against the crumpled sheet, the symbol of Hannah's defiance and vain bravery against her. 

Melanie looked down and frowned at yet another reminder of her lack of respect towards her new position. 

"I am begging thy pardon, miss," Hannah said, “for, I didst this with carelessness.”

She scrambled to pick the wrinkled sheet up from the floor, and she straightened it against her chest. She gave her mistress a frightful, yet reassuring, nod. 

Tessa was minded to think this was only so Melanie may not think to reprimand her for this small crime. She knew, with regards to Hannah’s past and with much sorrow in her heart, that there was naught Hannah couldst do now to prevent the punishment set to come upon her.

Melanie smiled and placed a cold ominous hand against her thick cheek. She stroked it in vain, as was said of the Lady Sheeks doing to Elizabeth. She was ever dazed in her glittering eyes as she drank in the success of her secret intrigues. 

She said, “We art not minded to worry.”

"Thou art very merciful, Lady Melanie," Hannah said. Her cheeks quivered under Melanie’s gently cupped hand. 

Melanie snapped back, as though even her feigned affection hadth stung even her own soul, like fingers to the flame.

She sighed as she looked around the room, with much less care for the posture and vanity that she maintained upon entering it. Twas for a surety that she may not now brook any picture of her now shameful past; the room whence a dreamer dreamed in vain dreams yet unfulfilled.

"We shalt keep nothing. Burn it, and ye shalt burn it all. Giles," she stopped to savor his name on her lips, "has left me not for want. I shalt hath everything I need in my new apartments." 

The girls paused, and were careful to remain silent. 

She said, as she glared like an offended animal, "Do it, now!" 

One couldst almost hear the late Lady Sheeks voice ring out through her vocal cords, as though forsooth, in every way possible, her spirit hadth taken over the sweet young Melanie’s body.

They scrambled over each other to move and gather her things in their arms, quickly. 

For her part, Melanie smiled wide as she watched her little rats scatter.

Melanie looked back at Tessa, and hadth overlooked the tear that Tessa wiped from her eye. She raised a brow and glared headstrong, with a stone silence, bearing that this command applied to her who was still as low as any other meaningless servant.

Elizabeth stared into the vanity mirror and straightened a black lace veil, that it may lay evenly over her upright head. 

The same confounding idea of this morrow’s incident repeated over and over in her mind, and thus counted her vexed. Who shouldst think of it? The servant girl, Melanie, of all sorts of people and persons, and her best former servant, was now counted as her sister and a member of this proud family.

Twas true that her mother hadth her share of indiscretions in the past, and was ever careful to shut each one down, that she might come out from them unscathed. 

This though, was surely the largest of them that any might hadth ever known. It might be well that she died, that she may not live to see herself drag the Sheeks' name down to the flames with dishonor and disgrace.

Elizabeth said aloud, as she ripped the veil from her head and changed her own subject, "'Tis good that I am naught like my mother. Surely, everyone shalt still thenceforth treat Melanie like a commoner, and not of her blood right, but I shan't," She raised her chin, "She shalt be as lawful to me as though father himself bore her, but we shouldst consider now that Steel may want to take her illegitimacy into account. Peradventure, even, he wouldst rather drop this horrid espousal than marry the daughter of a known adulterer. Sister to an illegitimate. We can only hope thus. Unless he cares not for a rank either, as he so professed. For, if he refuses her out of low birth, then it shouldst be clear. He is a liar and shan’t hath my humble heart, but wilt own all the shame I wish to make of him. I shalt confront him and he shalt know for sure I shan't be wooed by his lies. He wilt want not to do with me, nor this family, and I can avoid his own. No spies. No treason. No horrid death to bear on Giles' or mine own part." 

She curled her scarred hands in her lap, and then she opened her eyes wide. There art yet some ways better than others that might ensure his rejection. 

If he shouldst reject his damaged fruit, since there is no mother left to endure, she may count herself free to do as she wished. 

As she possessed every intention of breaking her open fresh scars, and ruining his prize, she opened the pearl-painted drawer and sought for her knife.

There was an empty space, marked by the imprint it left behind on the pink tissue paper lining; whence it hadth often rested. 

Twas a curious thing that it shouldst be missing, and to no known cause, but at the moment twas only a minor inconvenience. If naught else, her mother's tattered reputation wouldst must suffice in saving her from this nightmare, and even still, she hadth a little more time during a mourning period to set things in their proper place.

A pair of familiar gloved hands appeared from behind her and touched her shoulders. 

She stiffened her body. She knew not how long he hadth been in her room or at what time or place he hadth entered to no one’s notice, but twas only plain that he was here, and that he hadth returned to deal with her. 

Goosebumps from his cold and unwelcome gloves raised the fair hairs on her freshly powdered skin. 

"Thou didst not meet me, today," he said. 

"How can it be that thou hast not heard the same as all others in the province? That my mother is dead, and that we art now in mourning," she said, giving a wayward eye to unwelcome tracing fingers on her shoulder, "a few of us, anyway." 

"And the prince?" 

"He hast postponed," she said, with a pleased smile. She sighed with relief, "and 'tis a most welcome thing, for he shalt not see me. Yet. It may prithee thou to know I hath hadth a great deal of many other ideas of escaping him, and they shalt surely spare us all a great deal of treason." 

He curled her hair in his fingers. They stank of mead.

She spun around and she dropped her jaw. Her eyes narrowed harshly upon him.

Twas strange to imagine that seconds earlier, she feared pains and death at his hands. Now at this moment, she possessed no fear of him, but all offense to his person. Dare that she shouldst think or feel it, but there was even a small and ever growing comfort coming from him, and she liked it not.

She said, scoffing as she tired to rise,"Sir. Thou shan’t think to.." 

He put his finger to her lips.

She shrunk back in her chair, which was well beneath his towering stature.

She stared up at his face through the mirror’s reflection. He was hidden behind a black hood save for the thin slit which exposed his emerald green eyes. 

"I hath a confession to make, my Lady Sheeks," he said. 

Elizabeth downcast her eyes. 

She said, "Pray, what confession?" When one considered his shady occupation, twas little likely that his secrets might shock her.

He wrung his gloved hands. 

He said, "I hath grown fond of thou in our time together, even in times when thee was not always ware of my presence. Thou art unlike that of any other noblewoman I hath met and it may prithee thou to know I hath come to be the answer to thy prayers." 

"Well, I wouldst not speak that far, sir," she said, sniding. She was taken aback, but she refused to admit it, "and if thou shouldst decide I can not know thou so well..couldst thou grant me in the least, a name?"

"Stanley."

She looked him up and down, and she appeared unimpressed. 

"That is not ominous."

"Shouldst it be?"

"Thou art a villain, art thou not?"

"To some circles."

"Including mine."

"Prince Steel is a worthy competitor for villainy, is he not?"

She narrowed her eyes, faked a pout, and she curled a finger to her lip. She needed a moment to make her own quick and witty remark, that she might outdo him.

"And yet he is made a better man than thee. How quaint." 

This was a weak thing to speak and a lie, but she longed to drop him down a peg, that she might claim her familiar upper hand.

Stanley made a dry laugh. 

He said, "Doth thee say that thou wouldst marry that insufferable and pompous oaf?" 

"Nay," she said, half-smiling, "but doth that make thou a better choice? For, I hath a way we might both come out of this unscathed, and if thou wouldst but stop thy simpering at me long enough to listen.." 

He outspread his arms, took a couple steps back, and he chortled at her. Then, he removed his hood, revealing his matted brown curls and chiseled scruffed cheeks, and a pair of white teeth caught 'tween them. 

He said, grinning wide, "I hath a way better than them all, and I hath heard them all, for thou spake too much to thy self of thy schemes."

"O'?" she said, raising a brow, “And if thou art ever so calculated sir, then enlighten me. What is thy plan?”

He said, crossing his arms with an assured nod, "Thou shalt run away with me. We wilt hath many wild adventures, and we shalt leave this country in the dust. I know well that Marshall wilt like thee. And with enough time, this town wilt certainly forget either of us existed, wilt they not?" 

"Thou forgets."

"What? Doth thou care to carry out the plot to spy on a man thee hast despised? Who thou already knows is lying to thee?"

"That I do not love thee," she said, turning back to her vanity, "So 'tis not fitting nor reputable that I shouldst keep thy unmarried company." 

"Thou doth not love me yet, yea 'tis true, but I know it well that thou lauds much better than a pair of soft and golden arms, doth thou not?" 

"Thou needs not to spy on the prince," Elizabeth said, with a coy smile. 

She stood up, and turned around, so that she wouldst dare to meet his eyes. The opportunity to end this treason and her espousal was finally in her grasp, "My mother’s shame, her adultery of which thou seems to know not, was a large enough gossip to span the entire kingdom. She hadth an unlawful child, her future servant, which she hast now proclaimed to the shock of our kingdom to be both a duchess and my sister. Such shame might attach itself to Steel's name, lineage, and his family pride, and thus he shan't dare to marry me.”

He shook his head, slowly. 

Bewilderment filled her eyes. 

"Art thou mad, sir, or doth thou simply hath a death wish? For, I couldst lie, as thou knows. I couldst say this idea to spy on him was thy plan. Then, thou wilt be killed before anything might take place. Doth thou know not who's word wilt he take? Wilt it be that of the easily-replaced spy or," she stopped to shudder, "that of his betrothed."

His brazen and unabashed face dissolved into seriousness. 

"I wilt do as we agreed, lest thou accepts my offer. And thou shalt tell no one. Not even thy servant girls," Stanley said, strewing his voice. 

"I understand thou not," she said, shaking her head, "Wherefore must I go with you? For, is there not a chance that thou doth not know me as well as thou imagines, sir?"

"I never quit what I hadth sworn, for 'tis a dishonor. My only exception is that I may be allowed to take my shame away hence, with thee, to places whence a reputation doth not matter nor is recalled and set to hinder me in the future."

"Thou men tarry such feigned devotion. Wherefore wilt thou not thou spare a wasted woman and take it out of my sight?"

"Feigned? I am naught like thy simpering prince, who pretends his devotion for sure, if only to secure the pride of a pretty face."

Elizabeth raised her chin and brows in defiance.

His eyes warmed. 

He said, touching her shoulders, "Do not be so confident, madam, of thy place in his heart. He trusts me, and yet I hate him with all I possess. Because mine is a hidden hatred, and yours is well exposed to him, even though he couldst not for this moment care less for it, I shalt succeed to destroy thee." 

Her face ran pale. She couldst almost feel the prickling of a noose falling around her small delicate neck or the sharpness of a blade tapping beneath the top of spine.

He stepped forward until she was backed into the vanity. 

The stench of his strong drink and tobacco breath fell over her neck, and caused her to squirm. Was there no good man in this province who lacked a horrid stench and countenance to match?

He said, "And 'tis my word that is above yours. He hired me to uncover thy treacheries, after all, and 'tis my duty to expose them, if found. Thou couldst be exiled, or executed, and I might watch it all happen with a wide smile. Now, if thou still wishes to deny me, tell me, what wouldst be the purpose?"

Elizabeth said, with trembling lips, "Thou confounds me, sir. For, how doth thee say thou art in love with someone and might blackmail them in the same breath?" 

He picked up her hair and scrubbed it 'tween his fingers. 

He said, "Unrequited love, my Lady Elizabeth Sheeks. Unrequited, until thou shows me otherwise. If thou art minded to reciprocate, then I think thee wilt find my heart softer hither to thee." 

She smacked his hand.

"Excuse thee, sir," she said, scowling, "but I am no free maid, that thou may trifle with me. Thou wilt leave us now and thou wilt not be minded to return."

He pulled his clasped fingers away with a dangerous smile. 

This was not the end, for he was surely not one to forsake his dramatics. 

He bent down and he picked up an antique chinese blue and white porcelain vase resting by her feet. 

He tossed it back and forth 'tween his hands. 

"What art thou doing?" she said, trembling in fear for the next moment. 

Her eyes followed the vase as it bounced up and down, to and fro. 

"What wilt I not do?" he replied, raising his brows, "to get away."

He tossed the vase so high to the ceiling that it clattered and shattered against the glass beaded chandelier. 

Elizabeth screamed out with a mighty ferocity and she ducked low, bracing the shards of broken glass as they rained down on her head.

His footsteps were quick but few, and ever light against the carpet, as he disappeared through the open side bedroom window. She was minded that for the future, it shouldst be locked, lest he surely attempted to return and cause her yet greater harm. 

The locks jiggled hard, and then they stopped. 

A lingering moment in silence hadth passed.

Giles kicked open the double doors, and they fell open with a single swoop. In so doing, it hadth broken off a piece of its front board and it clattered to the floor. Elizabeth was a little startled by the terrible sound, but not so much that they were the forefront of her emotions.

He rushed in and he first looked to the bed, and then to where she sat against the vanity, in ever a great huff. There was she, who laid there in much the same manner as Melanie hadth found her months earlier.

"My lady!"

He ran forward and dropped down to Elizabeth's side. 

He took her soft hand into both of his and shook it gently, and then he rubbed them. His concern was deep on his face as he looked 'tween her, the sea of various broken glass around them, and back to Elizabeth again.

Melanie scurried in close behind him, like a mouse, and was still clutching her black-beaded rosary at her neck. 

She, too, felldown to Elizabeth's level, and marveled at all the tiny streaks of blood from the scratches covering her arms and face.

They stroked her bare and bloody shoulders, which were exposed from the falling shoulders of her night kirtle, but Elizabeth refused to look up at them. 

Melanie said, "Elizabeth, can thou not hear me? Elizabeth? 'Tis I, Melanie." 

"Melanie." 

"Yea, yea! Giles is here. We art all right here." 

Elizabeth stammered and gulped. She licked away the blood around her lips, and she cringed at the bitter copper taste. 

A small and strange comfort welled up in her. O’ how might Steel like this? She hadth many tiny and fair traces of scars on her arms, shoulders, and hands. She really was damaged goods now, regardless that she didst not possess her knife. The thought was almost pleasant enough to make her forget the stings on her flesh. Yet one fact was plain and didst hold back this perfect joy.

Her admirer was determined to go through with this useless plot, lest she shouldst go away with him, tarrying scars or no scars, and the certain death hereupon imminently threatened her mind and soul if she should refuse their agreement.

She gripped Melanie's pale pink skirt, and she shoved her face into it. There she didst weep bitterly, for all her pains and efforts were quick to be shown as in vain.

"Elizabeth?" Melanie said. 

She rubbed her shoulder with a harsh thumb.

Elizabeth wept deeper. Once again she was left in shambles, and she was unable to tell even this soul wherefore she was really in these sorrows.

Melanie said, "Giles?" 

"My lady?" 

Though Melanie seemed to now notice her not, Elizabeth looked up at her.

Melanie flashed an intriguing grin to Giles, who wouldst not look to her, but only to Elizabeth. She dropped her smile when she caught Elizabeth's perplexed glare from the corner of her eye, as though she were caught thinking things she ought not to think.

Elizabeth turned her face back into Melanie's lap, and didst not let her know that her ears were turned to listen.

Melanie said, "Giles. I must inquire thee, for thou hast vexed me with a curious thought. Didst I hear correctly? That thou hast called me...lady?

"Yea."

"O' yea. Yea. Nevermind. For that is what I am. Thy...lady."

"Madam?"

Giles squinted at her strange rambling.

"I hath hadth a thought. When I was in my old room with the servants, I saw Hannah with a red velvet kerchief. I am confident that due to Elizabeth's frail condition, she shalt offer it." 

Giles pulled his own from his pocket, the very same that he hadth used to comfort Elizabeth but a fortnight earlier. 

"Nay, that shan't do!" she said, shoving it back in, "'tis much too thin, and she is no doubt cut up in every inch of her flesh. Fetch the velvet cloth. I shalt stay and tend to my poor sister." 

Giles nodded and then he arose to a strong foot. He seemed reluctant to leave her side, but he hadth been given an order, even from that of a woman who was only but a servant only this morning. 

He backed away, slow at first as he seemed unable to keep his eyes off of Elizabeth, before turning away to rush through the door.

Melanie looked down, and she stroked Elizabeth's tender head. 

Elizabeth, from Melanie’s own hand, couldst almost feel the familiar and specific touch of her mother, who’s gentle touch was always vain and with a feigned love.

Elizabeth hadth heard every word. Velvet cloth..? What hast she, a nobody servant, to do with a red velvet cloth? There was only one in this entire manor, and strange that this very cloth is the only one that hadth turned up missing, along with the very thing it protected. Not only missing, but peradventure in the hands of a servant girl, who hadth no business in these quarters that she may be permitted to claim this precious possession.

‘She shalt offer it?’ She shalt give it back. That is what she shalt do. Give it back, or she shalt lose the very hand she used to steal it.

Elizabeth escaped her offended thoughts long enough to note that Melanie hadth reached into her skirt’s pocket. 

From it, she didst withdraw a thick glass bottle in a tiny size, about that of a large thimble, which was filled with a clear viscous liquid. Twas a most familiar and potent tonic, which was strong in effect and hadth been known to comfort her mother in the darkest and dreariest of times. Its use was not quite forbidden, but twas a well-known fact that for all its seemingly assured comforts, an overuse beyond a drop or two was a most unpleasant result, even unto causing death itself.

Giles' panic-stricken face turned to surprise when he happened upon Tessa and the entire troupe of girls wavering behind her. 

"Giles, thanks be to God. We hadth heard screaming," Tessa said. 

She clutched Giles' arms. 

"Ahem," he said, with a glare and a raised brow. 

She dropped her arms, but the fret couldst not leave her eyes, nor could she halt her excess of breath. 

"Tell me, is she well? Is Melanie okay?" 

Giles said, maintaining his composure, "The Lady Melanie is fine. 'Tis the Lady Sheeks who requires attending to, and wherefore that is, is none of thy concern." 

Tessa looked back at the girls, and appeared even more helpless than in previous times. 

"Hannah?" Giles said, turning his attentions to their rightful place. 

Tessa looked at Giles, then looked at Hannah, and back at Giles. She allowed her mouth to fall open wide enough that it might catch flies, which was an undignified sight that Giles made efforts to overlook.

"Sir?" Hannah said, with urgency hanging in her wide eyes. 

Giles said, raising his clean-shaven chin, "I understand thou hast in thy possession a red velvet cloth. This is said according to Lady Melanie." 

"Yea, sir."

Hannah nodded slow and she pulled out the cloth, which still contained the blade, from her pocket. 

Tessa's breath shortened and she froze her body. Twas not hard to see that Melanie's revenge, which she understood from the moment twas in Hannah’s pocket, was coming into place before their very eyes.

No one hadth dared to speak in her defense as she handed him the cloth. Nay, for they like enough knew not the truth, that the blade didst not belong to Melanie from the start. 

In her inward parts, Tessa didst screech. She pleaded. Someone. Anyone, with but half the courage that she didst lack, to prithee say something that might spare her. 

He accepted the cloth, which hadth perfectly concealed the knife in it. 

"Thank thee. This is most.." he said. 

His widened eye caught the glint that peeked out from beneath the slipping fabric as it exchanged into his hand. The stillness in the moment was like that of a shocked witness who had, without any intention or susipicion, witnessed a brutal murder.

He glared at her with a most grievous horror as she withdrew the blade from their exchange, and she attempted to put the blade back in her front apron pocket. 

He snatched her wrist and he thrust it forward and open. The knife dropped and clattered as it landed between her wooden clogs.

The ladies gasped.

For certain, they shalt see her beaten right here, torn down and punished for a crime she didst not commit. If she was set now to be punished for all those crimes she didst commit, every abuse inflicted, as Melanie intended, then one might argue justice served, but not for the purpose of this one innocent and careless act.

Giles' expression boiled into a fury unlike any hadth seen or imagined before this day. 

He said, with shakes through his teeth,"How DARE YOU?! Who is it that thou thinks thou art, Miss Rosenberg, that thou may steal from our gracious Lady Sheeks? Didst thou think that because thou wouldst simply leave tomorrow, that thou might get away with thievery? I shalt see thy hand cut off for this!" 

He squeezed her wrist tighter and she made a soft cry. 

Still, there among them was not a single lady, who shared the dignity to call her a friend, who dared to speak in her defense. None bore an ounce of courage all together to save an innocent. Peradventure twas that they, if for no other reason at all, knew that might be next to face Melanie's petty vengeance if they breathed but a word against her.

"Thou hurts my wrist," she cried. 

"Thou ought to be grateful that twas me or else-" 

"You!" Elizabeth said, charging down the hall, "Thou art a petty little thief!"

She clutched her blood-stained skirt in her hands. A monster lurked in her eyes, who was much like a demon. 

The blood leaking from her forehead incited shrieks from the fragile girls, who hadth never before this day seen their young mistress such a frightful sight. 

She raised her hands forward, that she might wrap them around Hannah's neck. 

"Something hast hit her in the head!" One of the girls wailed. 

Giles grabbed both of Elizabeth’s arms and pulled her away. He was quite forward in doing so, for he was only her servant, and yet even as his mistress, she allowed this. 

Though this measure was a welcome sight, Tessa thought it strange, for she was certain Giles was minded to do just as much harm to Hannah himself, and yet he sought to protect her from Elizabeth’s wrath. She was also but a woman, and weaker, and less capable of causing more harm than himself. Though she knew naught what shouldst ever be the cause for this break of protocol and ranks, she was yet well pleased that Hannah may be spared.

"Madam, please," he said, pleading to Elizabeth, that she may return to her ladyhood and calm herself, "Thou art a most noble lady of this house."

Elizabeth kept a hard stare on Hannah, and then she shook her head at their incessant cries.

"I am fine," she said, “Though all together, I am not fully well.”

She looked down at Hannah's feet. 

Her neck turned fiery red, and little paler than the blood streaming down it. 

"My lady. I understand this not," Hannah wailed, "Please. I know not what I hath done to offend my lady so," Hannah cupped her wrist, sobbing, "I meant no harm!"

"Shouldst I believe you?" Elizabeth said, "When the evidence is found here in thy possession? Wherefore is my knife here? Wherefore is Giles so certain of thy thievery?"

Giles said, "She didst it. She attempted to steal it. And she intended on leaving tomorrow with it, hoping she wilt be long gone by the time thou learned the truth."

"Nay, miss! I didst not."

"Doth thou not hath my father's knife?" Elizabeth said, fixing hard eyes on her. 

Hannah shook her head. 

She said, "I knew it not. I didst not-" 

"Then shalt any ladies here speak up in thy defense?"

"Of course, my lady," she said, "They know for a surety that Melanie brought the knife to me. I didst not take it."

Every girl felt the chill of Melanie's watchful stare as she eyed them from Elizabeth's doorway. Her glare, like one with a promise of swift death, easily bought her the silence she expected.

Not one soul spoke up in Hannah's defense. For, once she was gone, surely they were left to deal with Melanie, and for what they lacked in courage they stood no better in surviving her pent-up and vengeful wrath.

"Farrah?" Hannah said, with eyes filled with desperation.

Farrah averted her eyes.

Hannah turned to Tessa, who stared straight back at her like a reflection. 

"Tessa," Hannah said, nodding, "Thou were there, too. Tell them! Tell them what Melanie did!"

Tessa blinked.

She opened her mouth to speak. This was her chance and her moment, for being unlike the other girls, she feared Melanie not. Though Melanie lorded herself over her in her pride, twas true, surely there was but a scarce remnant of love left from her memories that called her not to do Tessa any harm.

"This girl knows nothing," Giles said, "She hast barely been out of the scullery before this day. There is scarcely a chance she bore the rank to be in the company of any of these ladies, that she might hath witnessed the theft."

Tessa dared not to speak up in her own defense in the face of her two superiors, for they hadth no relationship with her and wouldst surely reprimand her harshly, if they saw fit.

"Leave my presence. All of thee, leave me," Elizabeth said, picking up the knife.

"Miss, I-" 

Now Elizabeth's rage-ridden face matched Giles’ own. 

She said, "Go. I want thou out within the hour or I shalt force thee out. And thou wilt argue it not. Hast thou no respect for all I hadth been through this day, that thou must plague me with thy thievery and thy excuses?" 

Elizabeth pointed a strong finger down the hallway. She narrowed her eyes and lips.

"Well?" she said, "Leave us." 

Hannah wrung her wrist as she walked to the front door, bearing a full state of dejection as she hung her head. 

Elizabeth whipped her head and stormed off in the opposite direction, and stumbled hither to her apartments.

"I wilt hath no sight of thou ladies for the duration of the night," she said, stomping, "Is that clear?"

"Yea, my lady," they said, uttering the only words they couldst manage, which were the safest words in a Sheeks' house

Tessa's eyes and chest shuddered as she stared at Melanie, who stood unmoved in Elizabeth's doorway, even as Elizabeth herself passed her.

Her new lady regretted nothing, as she raised her chin and stiffened her lip, like a strange sort of champion. Melanie cupped her hands at the waist, with the perfect posture she hadth practiced in secret for many years, and dared that Tessa shouldst move against her and become the next target. 

She raised her brows. If Tessa hadth doubted her in the slightest before, this was now plain: That no one shouldst be safe from the dark intrigues that burst forth from the deepest repressed crevices of her mind, for her place hast now both settled and flourished.

Tessa turned back and joined the group as they walked back to their quarters. They were now as verily solemn as one might pretend in the wake of Lady Sheeks' death. 

"Melanie. Wherefore doth thou look with such intention?" Elizabeth asked. 

She sat at the vanity and groaned as she smeared the blood against her forehead. She seemed to care not for her appearance, and may be rather minded that she shouldst not look beautiful anymore, if only that she may displease Steel and her late sainted mother.

"Nothing," she said, with every meaning of the word. 

Elizabeth sighed as she planted the velvet cloth against her head, and then proceeded to rub it. 

She said, laughing low, "I tell thou this. I am surprised that thou wouldst not stand up for them, let alone speak in thy own defense. After all, thou only lived amongst them a fortnight ago." 

Melanie came forward with a gentle grace and knelt before her, in a manner that was her unconscious habit. She helped stroke her blood-soaked forehead with the cloth, as she resisted the familiar urge to address her as 'miss.'

She said, "I am not amongst them, anymore." 

Elizabeth shook her head. 

She said, "Do not be so ridiculous." 

Elizabeth couldst not see it from behind the cloth, but Melanie's face tightened. She hadth done once again as she hadth often done, acting as though she knew what she knew not.

She said, "Ow, tsss. Do not do press me so hard." 

Elizabeth furrowed her brows and she shrank back. 

Melanie lightened her grip on the cloth. 

She said, insisting, "I am not one of them." 

Elizabeth yanked the cloth, and then she flopped it in her lap.

This was a rude gesture. They were equals now. She couldst not simply snatch what she wanted from her hand, as she hadth always done, as though she were still above her. 

Melanie longed to snide these things, but instead she minded her time, and said nothing. If there were to be any outrage manifested at all, it ought to be a slow and careful one.

She faced Melanie, who relaxed her expression at the right time. 

Elizabeth drew her eyes half-closed and smiled a little. 

She said, "My dear Melanie. I remind thee that thou hast been a duchess for less than eight hours. And all the time before thus, thou were but a servant girl. 'Tis an impossible concept that anybody shouldst change so quickly."

Melanie stood up, that she shouldst rise over Elizabeth in both stature and pride, and she rolled her lips. 

She said, "And I, dear sister, remind thee that I am not only stepping into the role of a duchess, but as a member of this family. Both art now my rightful place. All I do, and all that I am and hath been, is as our mother taught us. The laws and protocols may not hath permitted me to be so expressive of it these many years, but I think we both know that as of this day that suppression is over and for naught." 

Elizabeth looked back at the mirror and she scoffed through her nose.

Melanie's eyes trembled. 

She said, vibrating her lips, "What is it? Wherefore doth thou mock me so with thy disposition?" 

Elizabeth stared at her blank reflection, facing the eyes stained with leaking blood. 

She said, "I am amused, dear sister. For tonight is a reformation for us both. For up until thou said those words, I thought if I hadth but been born a simple servant girl, I might never be capable of a pompous and stiff attitude. But now I see with plainness. Any low-born may hath this somewhere in them, and all they need is opportunity. Thou needs opportunity to be what I hate, just as I need opportunity to be that which I love." 

Melanie raised her brow. 'Tis certain. She hast gone mad.

She said, with a wild curiosity as to what else she may spout, "I understand you not." 

"If I gave this all up," Elizabeth cooed, stroking the pale pink fur puff of her powder ball, as she stained it with red streaks, "Wouldst I, as I hath imagined, get rid of that pride embedded in my blood from my youth? Couldst I be exactly the way I expected a poor woman to be?"

Melanie stammered.

Elizabeth looked up at her, frowning. 

She said, gulping, "Thou art without words. Dear sister. Thou may never know it, but o’ how I once envied thee. I see now that I can not any longer. But as thy sister, and former mistress of eight hours ago, I offer thou some useful rede: get over thy pride and get past thy self. Or the better that thou leave shouldst leave my sight." 

O’ how Elizabeth deserved to hear those words said to her! If she, an equal, hadth no fear to say it, then there now stood no consequence of her hearing it from a rightful lip.

 Melanie opened her mouth to give her perfect retort, but Giles strolled in the room.

All of Melanie's attentions and thoughts were thwarted at his presence. 

He stood there, ever shocked to see Elizabeth still covered in blood. He seemed to hath forgotten that she hadth dismissed the service of her ladies tonight, and a look of shame, as though he failed in his own duties to serve her, fell over his face like a white sheet.

Giles said, "Madam, thou must forgive me. But wouldst miss like me to send some ladies to clean this, erm, thee up?" 

Elizabeth nodded, downcast as she turned back to the ghost in the mirror.

"Yea. Please," she said, flopping her hands in her lap, "for I am afraid I can not do it, myself," she looked to Melanie, "and mother hast cost me our best servant girl." 

"There is no need, Giles. I shalt give the order," Melanie said, shoving Elizabeth's remark down into the deepest recesses of her tightened gut, "After all, I am their mistress now and I shalt lord over them, myself."

She rushed past Giles, and with nary a care didst she shove his shoulder in her wake. She slammed the door behind her.

She wiped back a coming tear from her right eye and dared not let another one form for Elizabeth’s sake. She was minded that from this night Elizabeth wouldst not make her weep another one, so long as she remained alive. 

She couldst stand there not for another second and suffer Elizabeth's indignities, not in the way her strong and sainted mother could. She hadth to leave the room, and do so quickly, because it became clear that any longer may tempt her to give Elizabeth a few more scars.

Elizabeth appeared unimpressed by Melanie's tantrum.

She said, "Hmm. Doth thou think anyone shouldst notice when I might exchange her for a more tolerable sister? Do we know if mother hadth more than one secret child?"

"I am sure I do not understand thee, madam," Giles said, "but I do seek to ease the pain." 

He hadth never seen his mistress so pitiful and forlorn this night and hour, than any time in all the days of his service to her. 

"Nay," she said, "I am well, now. I am almost happy, if one might imagine, for I drank quite a bit of tonic. If twas good enough for my mother, after all, then it surely shalt be good enough for me. And I tell thee, sir, 'tis quite delicious as a medicine and makes one feel better than any other that I hadth known to this day." 

She dangled the half empty bottle in front of her face, and then she popped the cork open. 

Giles clutched her as she slipped halfway out of her chair. 

"Oooupp!" she said, giggling, "O’ Watch me, Giles! The room. It spins. We shalt spin, together. Make merry, Giles. Make merry. The old bat is dead."

He said, sighing as he brushed the fallen hair out of her face, "O’ Elizabeth! What hast this day done to you?" 

She groaned in his arms and looked up. She was of not much use or wareness, and seemed to gaze straight through his fraught glare. 

"O' this doth not do at all."

"My lady?" 

"The room. It spins, though we can not spin, and..and I think...I am not so well as I thought," she said. 

With that statement, she fainted against his shoulder.

Tears filled Giles' eyes, asking God what she didst to deserve any of this. He clamped her hair in his hands, and ever feared that this moment was but the beginning of her last.

He scooped her up in his arms, much like a bridegroom, and carried her limp body to the bed.

He then laid her down and didst tuck her in, bearing a long sigh. 

He proceeded to stroke her soft flushed cheek, stained with tiny auburn cuts from the accident. She stank of the potent tonic, which smelled of oak and musk, and didst well in masking her rosy scents.

He bent forward to kiss her forehead. 

"Giles!" Melanie said, dropping her jaw, "What a scene this is!"

He looked up, knowing twas no accident that she hadth halted an 'innocent' kiss. 

"O’ wilt she be well?" Melanie said, darting her eyes back and forth 'tween them.

"We wilt know not until later," he said, "Didst thou fetch the girls?" 

"I hath forgotten," she said, "Thou must do instead get the doctor for me. For, I find now I can not bear to leave her side." 

He nodded and sighed, and then he rose up from the bed. 

He said, bowing low, "Yea, my lady." 

"Giles." 

"Yea, my lady," he said. He gave her his best and most pleasant smile he couldst manage hither to her strange person.

She smiled wide in return. 

She said, flushing her cheeks as she twirled the tips of her fur scarf in her fingers, "Thou art well ware that I hath hadth a hard day. As we all have. And I am minded to let thou know how sorry I am for my forward attitude towards thee. Thou must know that I am very grateful to thee, in everything. I hath always been and wilt always be the most gracious to thee." 

He made a single bow. 

He said, "I shalt fetch the doctor myself, Lady Melanie, as thou hast asked." 

Melanie beamed as she stepped in his way.

"O’ Giles! How careless of you!" She set about straightening his already neat collar, "and please, do not dawdle. I am afraid there art times whence I can bear it not to be gone from thy side, either. I need thee here. To confide in and comfort me. Surely, we hath an understanding." 

It took everything in him not to roll his eyes at her 'simple-minded childish affections,' as he often called them. 

He nodded again, with another 'Madam,' and passed by her quickly, that he may disappear from sight as fast as he couldst manage. 

Melanie stared at Elizabeth's motionless body, which laid with her hands folded on her chest like an effigy. 

Her eyes wandered to the half-empty bottle on the floor by the vanity and looked back at Elizabeth. O’ Elizabeth! Dear, dear...sister.

She half-smiled and raised her chin, asserting her rank on her, as though it were already greater than hers. What a gifted day, that she may achieve her highest rank and lose her greatest enemy, even if it demanded the price of her beloved mother's life.

She sat slow at Elizabeth's side, on her bed, and then she patted her hands. 

"Elizabeth," she said, blinking, "I must tell thee that I am not surprised at thy attitude. Thou hadth the same towards our dear mother, who for all thy days and hers, only wanted the best life for thee. She tried and tried very much to mold thou to who thou ought to be, though on many occasions, thou wouldst not oblige her. I feel since 'tis clear to thou that I am so much like her, as she made me to be, that 'tis only natural that thou shouldst resent me. And in turn, I thee. Whether thou couldst help that or not, though, do not tremble. For I shalt make remedy with thy death." 

Melanie looked back at the little bottle on the floor, then back to Elizabeth, and she contemplated if she shouldst 'help' Elizabeth further. 

Elizabeth groaned.

Melanie jumped up with a fright, as though Elizabeth were already a corse and hadth only come back to life.

Elizabeth's face relaxed again and sank back to a stilled calm. 

Melanie took in a long sigh of relief. She couldst only imagine what might happen if Elizabeth hadth heard, or worse, couldst repeat her little confession to others.

Giles strolled in, and she leapt once more in her buckled shoes.

His eyes widened, and then they relaxed. 

She managed a sweet smile, that she may bare an innocent demeanor towards him.

"My lady?" 

She gulped. 

She said, fanning her rigid chest, "Dear sir, that was fast. Do..Didst you-doth thou always walk in with no announcement, and with no knocking?" 

Giles met her with a respectful silence.

Twas a further relief that he hadth not been standing in the doorway, hanging on her every devious word. 

She picked up one side of her skirt as she approached, ready to act as though this sordid admission never occurred. 

"Wouldst I give that thou greeted me with such urgency sir, and stroll in, like a shining knight on a white steed," she said, giggling as she clutched her chest, "My heart speeds at thy light youthful feet, like a hound on the blood trail." 

"I am begging thy pardon miss," Giles said, ignoring her flirtations, "I agree that 'tis best not to make a habit of it." 

"Feel free to do so," she said, grinning from ear to ear, "when 'tis at my expense." 

His head swayed with discontentment. 

He said, "Pardon my forwardness-" 

"Always speak freely with me, Giles," Melanie said. 

She cupped his hands, and hope sailed in her eyes. 

He lowered them to her waist, which grew stiffer, as though were at all possible, as she held her breath. 

He said, "It wouldst not be wise for me to pursue courtship with a lady of thy station. I am, but a simple servant. If found out, there art two outcomes to consider. For my part, I shouldst never work again, or peradventure even face imprisonment. For thine, thou wilt be deposed and disgraced and forced to return to work for whatever family wouldst hath thee, having shamed the Sheeks' name. Thy name wilt be erased from its history. And I dare say that result is only the best we couldst hope to see. So I urge thee, madam, to put aside thy feelings, and honor the dignity, pride, and protocol this family stands for." 

Melanie looked horrified. 

She said, "I care not. Wherefore shouldst protocol decide who can be in love?" she cupped his hands again as she pleaded, "Giles, with thou I am no duchess or servant. I am Melanie Sheeks. We art free to be together, to be ourselves to each other. I wouldst give up everything for thou to see that." 

He lowered her hands again. 

He said, "Melanie, this can not be. Do not endanger us both for these silly feelings." 

Melanie looked back at Elizabeth, then to him. She widened her eyes. 

She said, "Is it not true that thou wouldst endanger it well enough for a chance with her? Doth thou dare deny it? Thou art yet still in love with her. That ungrateful spoiled-"

"Madam, hath dignity. I beg thee," Giles said, raising his voice.

Melanie raised a finger to his face, gritted her teeth, and lowered her eyes. 

"Do not think to command me," she said.

Giles lowered his eyes and tightened his mouth.

She said, warming her harsh glare, "I tell thee, sweet Giles, that now that I am in the position to do so, I wilt hath thee. I wilt master thy love and a whole lot more than thou ever in thy life hadth imagined. We art meant to be, whether dwelling with or without her. " 

She backed away and lowered her finger, took a deep breath, and she straightened her skirt. She resumed smiling and blinked in perplexity, as if this moment didst not happen. 

She said, laughing, "O’ dear sir, I give my apologies. For I must be a little tired. Walk with me to my apartments." 

She walked past him, and she half-looked back as he hesitated. 

"Giles. Shalt thou come? It shan't take but a moment and the doctor wilt be here, soon." 

He shuddered for a moment, and then followed behind her like a reluctant dog.