Chapter Seven

 "Didst she die with quickness, and with little pain?" Elizabeth asked. She sat at her silver gilded vanity with her hands folded in her lap, and she bore little emotion in her countenance, "I wonder it." 

Her mother was far from the greatest person to hath lived, but she was still her mother, nonetheless. She was the poorest of women, who herself couldst never be associated with poorness of any kind. Twas strange to imagine that for all that woman's lifelong selfishness, it never occurred to her that she may not live to see her pains rewarded. 

Who was there now to force Elizabeth into a match she didst not want? Peradventure she hadth little use for spies after all, and couldst do away with the risks altogether. For she can run now, and do so freely, without fearing the pain of death or a lifetime of tiresome spinster lectures. 

"She went well, madam," Tessa said. 

She made a low bow, but seemed fraught in her whole body with quaking nerves.

"What?" Elizabeth said, blinking away her distracting thoughts. She looked at Tessa, then back at her waning reflection, "O.' Yea, of course. Her last words?" 

Tessa rolled her lips and seemed unable to speak, for she appeared most troubled and intelligencedistraught by the terrible tragedy she witnessed earlier that day. 

This was an understandable countenance from a servant well known by her mother, if they were Giles or Melanie, but this was a stranger, who hadth no reason to be disturbed by her mother’s death.

Elizabeth looked back at Tessa and she raised her voice. 

"Wilt thou not answer me?" 

Tessa cringed and she wrung her hands. 

"Mmm, um...well-" 

"Do not be silent, girl. This is no time for withholding thy words." 

She couldst not bear it any longer. The other, and more well-spoken, servants were at breakfast and she was minded to not bother them, save for the one who came of her own free will to bring her this tragic intelligence. Even for this generous act, though, she didst not make the situation a greater comfort.

Elizabeth shot up to her feet and she stamped her foot into the polar fur carpet. 

"She mentioned Melanie, my lady," she said, taking a step back.

Elizabeth furrowed her brows and she twisted her lips. She sank with slowness down into her plush pink velvet stool. Her curious smile formed. How strange twas that at the end, that Melanie shouldst be on her proud mind. 

She said, sinking her shoulders as she relaxed, "And wherefore...doth thou imagine she wouldst do that?"

Granted, Melanie hast been here a long time, but mother was not a sentimental person. She treated servants as rightful property, not people of value or accord. She couldst not...she wouldst not..really spend her dying breath on her, wouldst she?

Tessa said, fidgeting her fingers, "Forgive my plainness, but twas thought a delusion, madam. It happened so quickly, and Melanie was at her side. For surely, I wouldst talk to the person nearest to me..if it were my death, madam." 

Elizabeth looked into her lap, allowed a single tear to fall, and then she sniffled. 

She said, "Yea, I suppose thou art right." 

She broke down into sobs, though she was not sure of the cause. She was not sad nor sorry about her mother's death, and in fact found herself relieved to be free from her ambitious grip. Yet, her physical reactions reacted against her true feelings. 

Tessa, while ignoring convention and protocol, walked forward in boldness and she wrapped her arms around Elizabeth, who gripped her biceps and wept in the crook of her narrow shoulder. 

Tessa said, "Though 'tis not well, miss. She knew thou hadth loved her. And she loved thee, for a surety." 

The Lady Sheeks loved what might hath been.

"I hath no doubt thou shalt be as strong and beautiful a lady as she was," Tessa continued, attempting in vain to comfort her, "for she raised thee, well." 

What didst she know? This was an insignificant servant girl, who saw naught and knew of no one. She was no matter of importance. There were her mother’s thoughts again, embedding into her heart. Elizabeth hated her high upbringing with a fiery passion, and hereupon hated herself, her mother, and all things that birthed from the result. 

Her mother's death though, bought her a chance at starting over and making things right that she wouldst not otherwise possess. She couldst allow her heart to thaw, and open herself not only to the household, but to the whole withheld world. 

"There, there miss," Tessa cooed, as she patted her shoulders.

Elizabeth crawled out of her grip, and then she pushed her to a distance. 

"That wilt be all," she said, sniffling. 

She patted down her skirt. She wanted to call for Melanie, but she likely wouldst not know, any more than the others, the true reason as to wherefore her name was mentioned. 

"What is thy name?" Elizabeth asked, "for I hath not known thou before." 

"Tessa, miss. I work in the scullery, not house service. I was called from my normal duties to assist thy mother today, in preparation for the espousal breakfast." 

"Didst she say naught else?" Elizabeth asked.

Tessa frowned as she wrung her sweat-filled hands and made harsh breaths. 

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

 She said, rubbing her forehead, "Please, do speak up. For, I am tired and minded to hath little patience for withheld words." 

"Nay," she said, "Perhaps. The other ladies claim she mentioned a man named Charles." 

She skewed her face again, and then she scoffed. 

She said, shaking her head, "Charles? Who..who is this Charles? I hath not heard of him." 

"Charles LeRoy. My understanding is that over twenty years ago he worked the stables...until he ran off. He was not seen or heard from after that." 

Elizabeth jerked her head inward. 

She said, "Thou art certain? Nay. That is preposterous. 'Tis madness. It hast to be mistaken. It can not be that my mother was so delusional at death, that her last words were about a stable hand from twenty years ago, and..and a careless servant girl who was of no note to her?!" 

Elizabeth looked up at her. Her wide eyes were wild with shock and confusion. She begged in her heart for a real answer, an answer for all the questions unanswered, from a helpless person who couldst not give it.

Tessa rolled her lips and she fidgeted her with hands again. 

She said, "It seems so, madam." 

Elizabeth cleared her throat and she looked to the mirror again.

"Well, what of him? What didst she say?" 

"Thou shan't believe me." 

"I assure thee that I shalt," Elizabeth said, ever determined for the truth. 

Tessa bit her lips. 

She said, "She...apologized, madam. To them both." 

Elizabeth leapt to her feet with a wild start and she put her face to hers.

Tessa stumbled backward and she slammed the bedroom door, closing it with her back as she collapsed down to the floor.

Elizabeth charged forward without a care, for she was driven by her erratic passions. 

She screeched as she pointed, first to the door, and then herself, "SHE APOLOGIZED? TO THEM?! THAT WOMAN NEVER APOLOGIZED FOR A THING IN HER USELESS EXISTENCE, LET ALONE TO SERVANTS! IF SHE SHOULD BE SORRY TO ANYONE, IT SHOULD BE ME! SHE RUINED MY LIFE! SHE TOOK MY DREAMS RIGHT OUT FROM UNDER MY FEET!" 

Tessa crumbled to her knees, but Elizabeth took little notice of her fright. 

Elizabeth curled her fingers at her forehead and she caught her breath. 

She said, "This is impossible. I-I can not fathom it. I do not understand this..this absurdity. Even if she was delusional, that is still not...possible."

She looked down at Tessa, who quivered and wept on her knees.

Though Elizabeth refused to bow down to meet her, while she came back to her senses, she was minded that she wouldst not be so cruel as her mother. 

She said, as she curled her lips, "Thou art dismissed..and I do apologize for my outburst," she wrung her hands, "'tis most unbecoming of me." 

"Miss hast no need to apologize to me," Tessa said. 

"Nay. I-I am a human, too," she replied, turning away, "Mortal. We know there is no excuse for it. Now, if thou art pleased to leave me, thou ought to, for I hath hadth a very trying day." 

"Yea, my lady," she said with a quick bow.