Melanie drew the scarlet silk curtains wide open, and exposed the blinding and cumbersome wide yellow rays that rose over the salty acres of endless green and yellow hills.
This day was that bright morning which was full of expectation and the culmination of all the years of tireless expansive efforts. Such was the kind whence naught and no one couldst stand in the way of what was meant to happen, lest they shouldst suffer a doom which wouldst be well-deserved to them.
"Good morrow, my lady," Melanie chimed.
Twas no surprise that she was this delighted and wide awake, for she hadth been assigned to arise hours earlier that she might make vital efforts in improving this manor for the prince’s arrival.
Never was there a better hand that held a dust brush or a sponge than the one that belonged to Melanie Sheeks. O’ if only she could be as good at silence than she was in her duties, then she could surely hope to see better and more apparent favor from her mistress.
"O’ spare me thy merry words," Lady Sheeks groaned.
She cupped her face and shook her head at the sound of Melanie's voice, which was far too cheerful to suffer for this a busy morning.
This day was that bright morning which was full of expectation and the culmination of all the years of tireless expansive efforts. Such was the kind whence naught and no one couldst stand in the way of what was meant to happen, lest they shouldst suffer a doom which wouldst be well-deserved to them.
"Good morrow, my lady," Melanie chimed.
Twas no surprise that she was this delighted and wide awake, for she hadth been assigned to arise hours earlier that she might make vital efforts in improving this manor for the prince’s arrival.
Never was there a better hand that held a dust brush or a sponge than the one that belonged to Melanie Sheeks. O’ if only she could be as good at silence than she was in her duties, then she could surely hope to see better and more apparent favor from her mistress.
"O’ spare me thy merry words," Lady Sheeks groaned.
She cupped her face and shook her head at the sound of Melanie's voice, which was far too cheerful to suffer for this a busy morning.
The blinding sun had once again pulled her away from yet another dream of Elizabeth's wedding day, which progressed in a manner only fitting a fictional world.
In her slumber, the bands of gold shown down on Elizabeth through stained glass windows as she descended the velvet red carpet and past the wide empty pews towards herself, and the beloved prince.
When this glorious moment had ended, the same bands now pierced the redness of her lids and didst ache her eyes.
This was a bright and new season, with months of contracts, dowries, and negotiations to finalize in only a single morning. All of its success rested on Elizabeth's newfound obedience, which one may hope couldst grow into an easy and natural sincerity.
This was a manageable hope, of course, if one hadth a caring mother’s guiding words remaining in her ear behind the throne.
Hannah Rosenberg held up and examined a new lime green frock, ruffled high in both collar and cuff, with a square neck and long flowing skirt of rich dull gray damask. The Lady Sheeks took little notice or consideration of her beyond her own observations of the garment, as she didst in relation to her other servants.
"Well," the Lady Sheeks continued, as she rose up with a yawn, "Thou must all put in thy best and hardest labor today, for there is work to be done and a strong impression to be made for the sake of this our prince."
The flashback to a dream of her daughter walking down the aisle towards the prince at Brawnley Chapel lingered in her mind, followed by the longed-for image of her glistening coronation.
Her blurred eyes sharpened upon Melanie, who shared every likeness of her handsome father, and strangely, even the Lady Sheeks herself. She blinked as the sting of a shameful observance stung her back to her senses, as it didst on a daily occurrence for these many years. She frowned at the innocent and naive child, who stood still by the door, as though she hadth naught of use to do.
"Melanie, must thou dawdle?" she said.
She flopped her hands in her lap and she gruffed with a swipe of her head.
Melanie hesitated for a moment, and thereby she did incite an eye roll from the Lady Sheeks.
She said, curtsying, “I am the most sorry, miss. I know not what came over me."
The Lady Sheeks cared as little to hear apologies as she didst to forgive them. They were but a waste of her ears, and every servant was well informed to know it, that they may spare her them.
She rushed forward and she pulled the blankets away from Lady Sheeks, exposing her bare white bow-legged knees that peeked out of a white linen night kirtle.
Then, she grabbed beneath Lady Sheeks’ knees and settled her legs over the edge of the bed. She acted with such unnecessary slowness and care that one might imagine she thought they wouldst shatter in her hands.
Melanie paused her work, for she was clearly swept up in her selfish thoughts again. Couldst she not, if only for a single moment, imagine that this day was of no concern towards her? That she hadth no need to think, but only to obey those who might think better than, and for, her?
The Lady Sheeks shoved her shoulders.
She said, "Slippers, girl. Fetch my slippers!"
That snapped her well into her place. A good mistress should never spare the rod from her servant, lest they appear to be lacking and embarrass the good name of the household.
Melanie nodded, now flushed pink with embarrassment, as though her private and useless thoughts were in sooth heard.
Melanie lifted the ruffled lace bottom edge of the blankets and she peeked under the bed. She seemed to linger for too long, as though she could not easily see them in a space which was not so dark as she made it appear.
Insipid girl. Couldst she not be useful on a day which requires the most and best of her usefulness? The longer she spent wasting our precious time, the worse she made Elizabeth chances of a reputable match. How couldst she think that she might keep a prince waiting, and in squalor, no less? Such willfulness wouldst not be brooked.
In these twelve years, since the tender age of eight, Melanie's betters were often dismissed for lesser infractions than her insolence. Many, and a great number servants they were, made a transgression that only needed to be committed once, and after such were they were gone and never heard from again.
Yet, the merciful Lady Sheeks always granted Melanie another chance, and still yet another and more opportunities to make mistakes, even to the bafflement and jealousy of all her other servants. She shouldst be grateful for that and not take it for granted, that she shouldst continue to permit herself for daydreams and laziness.
For, 'tis not as though she hadth a place to go if the day shouldst come that her mistress found herself unwilling to keep her any longer. Her mother, though not the person who made her birth, hadth been dead all this time and was therefore of no use to give her a home.
This was such a lecture that, in her kindness, the Lady Sheeks sought to remind her of in these many years of service, and yet, the child took little note of her wisdom and continued the same manner in both disappointing and mediocre service.
Melanie pulled the plush mink slippers from under the bed with a dutiful nod.
Then, much like a Prince Charming to his Cinderella, she glided them on her beloved mistress' feet. These covered those unimpressive raised veins beneath her skin; veins in strings of blue that couldst be likened to those painted swirls swimming beneath a layer of pale marble.
O’ how the Lady Sheeks hated her growing age, and o’ how she made all her efforts to cover it even from those whom she needed not to shield it from; whose opinions were even of no note.
….
The Lady Sheeks was guided to the center of the spacious room, whence she spread her arms to her sides with all readiness. She eyed Melanie's reflection watchfully in the floor-to-ceiling window standing before her, and she grimaced at her.
There she transgressed again, for though well and hard at work on her corset strings, she was teetering her head off in the clouds.
"Tighter, girl!" Lady Sheeks ordered, in an unsurprising manner, like a headstrong rider who bucked her steed .
Melanie snapped her eyes and she focused on the task before her, which the Lady Sheeks took for a pleasing result.
She lifted her head as she groaned and sighed at the ceiling, making the displeasure in both her body and company plain. She hadth little patience for the careless Melanie today, and only the Lady Sheeks knew wherefore the simpering girl was still permitted to work here.
"Melanie, go fetch my tea," Lady Sheeks said, with a flap of her hand.
She was not of much thirst, but she hadth as enough of this child as couldst be withstood by any patient lady. She needed Melanie to be distracted with something else, anything else, so long as she would not be required to witness and suffer her frivolity for another moment.
Melanie dipped low to the floor in a curtsy, though her impatient mistress couldst care less for her devotions. She, then, hurried out of the polished wood panel double doors to her gallant oval bedroom.
Hannah stood in her place; a servant twice the woman of any other, both in girth and attitude. She shoved the new green frock over her mistress' raised arms and head.
Though Lady Sheeks refused to admit it, she hadth always appreciated the lack of a gentle touch from her ‘rather large’ servant girl.
The garment smelled of her signature crushed pearl and goat’s milk scent, and it did well to wash away the last string of stress that hadth clung to her bosom.
"Silly child," Hannah said.
"What?" Lady Sheeks said.
She gaped her mouth open, for she was ever shocked that a servant wouldst think to converse with her, as though she were an equal.
"Pardon my boldness, my lady,” she said, yanking the dress down her waist, “Peradventure she would do better to be out of sight in the scullery. There art many more girls more qualified to serve thee than her and I think they wouldst do the job a thousand times better."
"Wilt they be a thousand times more quiet, too? For peradventure I couldst replace thou both, and be twice for the bounty," Lady Sheeks said, finishing her snark with a pinched purse of her unpainted pale pink lips.
Hannah stopped tugging the dress, and she made a low bow.
She said, "Forgive me, madam. Twas not my place."
"There is the only thought we shalt ever hadth in common. Now, finish dressing me. I shalt hath no more patience for thy dawdling or hers. This must be finished, today. And even if it shouldst smite me, I wilt ensure that she can not change her mind."
Hannah kept her head low as she yanked again at the stubborn silk waist, twice as hard as Melanie couldst manage.
"Melanie ties a proper corset. She flatters me, and without the need of a single compliment. I dare say I hath never in my life felt thinner with her, and 'tis never a job overdone," she said, resisting a smile. She remembered herself then, for she couldst not dare compliment a low-born, especially to a gossiping servant, "Though, she doth take ages to do the work."
"Yea, madam."
"My point is, that though thou performs with half of her quality, thou also gets thy work done in half the time," she said, steadying her shoulders, "Thou art both remotely useful. In thy own ways. Which is wherefore thou both hath been permitted to stay, in my unappreciated mercy, though any other mistress wouldst toss thou for but half of thy transgressions against me."
Twas her maternal instincts that defended Melanie, and for all her efforts, they couldst not be prevented from their existence. In all her heart, she wished Melanie was not a drop of her noble blood. Her presence was a daily reminder of her terrible mistake, and yet in the smallest measure of her heart, she could not bear to be long without her.
"We art all finished, Miss," Hannah said. She bowed low before rising again with a stumble in her gait, "Now, to apply thy powdered wig and makeup. I think that miss wouldst look so glamorous, that the prince shouldst ask to marry thee instead."
"Gracious," Lady Sheeks said. She laughed, and then she paused. She tightened her lips into a familiar pinch, remembering her station, which couldst not be seen chuckling with a low-born. The idea was distasteful and this was not the day to sully good tradition, "Thou art very forward today, Hannah, but thou shouldst hearken with care. I shan’t abide these loose lips for another moment. There wilt be no more talk from servants, unless they art spoken to first. Is that clear?"
Hannah bowed, dropping her smile, "Yea," she said, "my lady."
Lady Sheeks made a pleased smile. She was always happy to put a girl back in her rightful place and twas her precious duty as a good mistress to do this to the utmost satisfaction.
Twas not long before the matter was pushed to the back of her mind, whence Hannah was running a brush through knotted gray curls.
"Goodness," Lady Sheeks said. She tightened her lips as she suffered the pulling brush. The matte was thick and soft as cotton, and not so easy to smooth out, "I hadth a mind that if thou were half as good at brushing as Melanie is with corsets, I shouldst be out of my misery."
"Pardon me, my lady," Hannah said, "I am terribly sorry."
Lady Sheeks scoffed at her.
"Quiet, child," she said.
Melanie beamed as she swept back in the room with a tray of hot tea and biscuits, switching the tension from Hannah to herself, whence it hadth rightfully belonged since her birth.
"Hot tea, miss," she exclaimed, with great delight.
She set it on the lace-draped round dining table with a sincere pride unlike the Lady Sheeks hadth seen in her at any time before this day. Now here was an example that Hannah, and any of her other servants, wouldst do well to follow. O’ if only her friends were here to see and seeth in jealousy, that she had such a servant that was so sincerely delighted in her service.
She poured the tan translucent tea slowly into the porcelain teacup.
Its wafts of lemon and hints of mint spewing from the long trails of smoke filled her nose from across the room and for only a moment, didst let her forget all her troubles.
"Is that the Lemon Earl?" Lady Sheeks asked, with a pleased smile, “Why, what a treat! We hath hadth it not since our youth.”
"Yea, madam," she said, “I felt the day called for the best of our stores. I hadth not made it before this day, but the recipe belonged to my mother, and she made it quite well. I hath no doubt that it shouldst bring thou back to the days of thy youth swiftly, though thou seems not to hadth aged since thou may hadth last tasted it."
"Spare me thy flatteries, girl," Lady Sheeks said, with a snub of her chin, “A ‘yes’ wilt suffice.”
"Yea, miss," Melanie said, with a low bow.
Her adoptive mother, Elizabeth's old wet nurse whose name she hadth quite forgotten, raised Melanie for eight years, until she was old enough to serve.
She hadth done so faithfully since then, even requiring almost no praise, and soon became the most senior maid on her staff, before even the ragged Giles himself. This was after the many necessary firings, of course. Though these days she was often sluggish in certain duties, she was the most loyal of the lot, and found the least false in her flattery.
Tessa, a scullery girl of no note and one of today’s extra hands, for many were needed, followed behind her with steps lighter than a mouse. She managed to keep herself just in the corner of Lady Sheek's wandering eyes.
She hadth only seen her on two occasions. The day of her arrival, the same as Melanie’s own, having come straight from the orphanage and like in age, and now here on this day. She cared not to see her again beyond these two occurences, and much less longed to keep her in the bedroom.
Scullery girls were ill to be trusted. For all their need to be used, they were also well known to be thieves. Drinking their mistresses’ wine and sampling their meats and bread. She knew the deeds well. Given the chance for the presence of finer things, no doubt they wouldst help themselves to things which were much more valuable.
Melanie brought the steaming glass to her attention, and then she bowed her head low.
"Doth thee require a sip, miss?" she said.
Lady Sheeks sniffed a waft of the tea, which was many times stronger than the pleasant scent she enjoyed from across the room. How wonderful. A new favorite. She must require her to serve this to the prince when he arrives, for no doubt it might leave a pleasing mark on his visit.
"Do it," she said.
Melanie brought the hot tea cup to her mistress's lips and she tilted it with much gentleness. She was careful not to do so too much, lest her lips and tongue burned. If that shouldst be allowed to happen, the girl wouldst find herself scalded many times worse for the horrendous and careless transgression.
She tilted the cup away from her lips.
Lady Sheeks licked her mouth. She never admitted it, but this cup was more delicious than the previous ones than ever she hadth tasted in her life; a perfect blend of sweet, before it went down the throat with only the right amount of bitterness.
"Very good," she said, "Now take it away."
She swatted her hand at the air.
Melanie bowed low again, and then she floated on her heels as she returned the tea cup to its tray.
She stood beside it, and then she turned around and folded her hands behind her back. She, in all humility, averted her gaze from her esteemed lady. She appeared strangely expectant of something, and the Lady Sheeks was but a moment away from inquiring to her about such a mind. She was so vexed, for she was intrigued to know what rare interesting thought calculated behind her lowered eyes and clever smile.
As she kept her chin raised, she opened her mouth to speak. Then, the Lady Sheeks’ eyes widened in a great horror.
Standing in the place of her beloved servant, was now the handsome dark-skinned stable hand and her former lover, Charles LeRoy, who materialized before her trembling eyes.
Blood rushed to the top of the Lady Sheek's head, and caused her to tingle from her high forehead to her curled bulbous toes, which now chilled in her slippers.
"What didst I ever do to thee, Gertrude, but love you?" Charles said.
Melanie, no doubt noticing the Lady Sheeks’ horrified glare, bowed low. She broadened the smile on her face, too much like his own, and she was no doubt hoping this may raise her spirits.
The brown transparent figure lingered through her, matching in eyes and temperament, as though one couldst be both a human and ghost bound together.
Lady Sheeks let out a single squeaking yelp. She clutched her chest, and all of her ladies, save for Melanie herself, hadth clamored to catch her before she might strike her head on the polished oak floors.
"Miss, miss," they cried out.
Her legs failed her and she couldst not stand. The ladies let her down and gently moved her nearby, to the bright red-dyed rug of soft mink.
"Miss!" Hannah howled again and again, from her wide-set lungs.
Lady Sheeks hadth pondered not how one might know that they were to die, and that they may go with plans unfulfilled. She hadth often imagined herself so privileged that she may only die in peace in her sleep, with all her dreams, ambitions, and desires having been fully accomplished. Her daughter, a queen. She, an advising queen mother. Mother-in-law to the future king himself. She planned her last breaths and time around living to see all these things, and here now, in this moment, she must now accept that she shan't do this very thing.
This was a pall compared to the long list of pains she hadth crossed over fast in her mind, while she still hadth time to use it.
The cries of her girls aching in her ears and drowning out these thoughts hadth made an unexpected death no better, and in fact, didst make her last moments worse.
Tessa, that wary and thieving scullery maid, glared at her as she backed away to the door. She made no effort to help her, but appeared to be like an afeared chicken.
"Fetch the doctor," Hannah said, pointing to Tessa.
Twas good knowledge to know she sincerely cared for the life of her mistress. Lady Sheeks always knew Hannah was well worth her keep, even for all her brazen faults.
Tessa continued backing away, and then she ran off quite fast. Whether she didst so in terror or to do as she was bid, she shan't know, but she couldst tell in her fading heart that he wouldst not come in time for any course of action. She was now doomed.
Lady Sheeks looked up at Melanie, who now kneeled over her in distress as she caressed the fine grooves of her sunken and purpling cheeks. Here was the dark spot on her past, and she couldst not turn her away. She couldst hath done much better by the child, though this was the wrong time to remedy such a regret.
Her heart quickened in that instant and nearly withered in her chest, and she gripped her collarbones with her last ounce of strength.
In Melanie’s deep brown eyes, the terrible scene played out its course.
There she stood at her husband's side, forced to watch her lover's lifeless bludgeoned body plop into a shallow empty grave. He was face down like a sack of potatoes. He didst not die with a fist or a sword, but hadth merely been baneed by a wine she hadth slipped from her own hand.
He forced her to toss the dirt on the man she loved, if only to prithee her benefactor for the sake of her reputation and future heirs. Twas verily the saddest moment of her entire life, and her one true regret.
"Charles, what we-I didst to thee. I am the most sorry. Thy crime...was loving me. Understand. I-I loved my husband. I hadth to choose him. O’ how I wish we hadth not...for all these years I hath loved thee still..." Lady Sheeks stammered. She hadth never apologized in her life, in accordance to the lessons that raised her, and certainly shouldst not do so to a low-born...but protocol and reputation meant naught at the last moment, "tell Melanie I am sorry. She never knew of us as thine hadth hoped..but I promise that she wilt.."
The small group of servant girls, including Hannah, who encircled her dying body, stared up at Melanie with agape mouths.
She looked back at them with puzzlement, and thus they missed the moment whence her beloved mistress, the esteemed Lady Sheeks, drew in her final breath.
This was a bright and new season, with months of contracts, dowries, and negotiations to finalize in only a single morning. All of its success rested on Elizabeth's newfound obedience, which one may hope couldst grow into an easy and natural sincerity.
This was a manageable hope, of course, if one hadth a caring mother’s guiding words remaining in her ear behind the throne.
Hannah Rosenberg held up and examined a new lime green frock, ruffled high in both collar and cuff, with a square neck and long flowing skirt of rich dull gray damask. The Lady Sheeks took little notice or consideration of her beyond her own observations of the garment, as she didst in relation to her other servants.
"Well," the Lady Sheeks continued, as she rose up with a yawn, "Thou must all put in thy best and hardest labor today, for there is work to be done and a strong impression to be made for the sake of this our prince."
The flashback to a dream of her daughter walking down the aisle towards the prince at Brawnley Chapel lingered in her mind, followed by the longed-for image of her glistening coronation.
Her blurred eyes sharpened upon Melanie, who shared every likeness of her handsome father, and strangely, even the Lady Sheeks herself. She blinked as the sting of a shameful observance stung her back to her senses, as it didst on a daily occurrence for these many years. She frowned at the innocent and naive child, who stood still by the door, as though she hadth naught of use to do.
"Melanie, must thou dawdle?" she said.
She flopped her hands in her lap and she gruffed with a swipe of her head.
Melanie hesitated for a moment, and thereby she did incite an eye roll from the Lady Sheeks.
She said, curtsying, “I am the most sorry, miss. I know not what came over me."
The Lady Sheeks cared as little to hear apologies as she didst to forgive them. They were but a waste of her ears, and every servant was well informed to know it, that they may spare her them.
She rushed forward and she pulled the blankets away from Lady Sheeks, exposing her bare white bow-legged knees that peeked out of a white linen night kirtle.
Then, she grabbed beneath Lady Sheeks’ knees and settled her legs over the edge of the bed. She acted with such unnecessary slowness and care that one might imagine she thought they wouldst shatter in her hands.
Melanie paused her work, for she was clearly swept up in her selfish thoughts again. Couldst she not, if only for a single moment, imagine that this day was of no concern towards her? That she hadth no need to think, but only to obey those who might think better than, and for, her?
The Lady Sheeks shoved her shoulders.
She said, "Slippers, girl. Fetch my slippers!"
That snapped her well into her place. A good mistress should never spare the rod from her servant, lest they appear to be lacking and embarrass the good name of the household.
Melanie nodded, now flushed pink with embarrassment, as though her private and useless thoughts were in sooth heard.
Melanie lifted the ruffled lace bottom edge of the blankets and she peeked under the bed. She seemed to linger for too long, as though she could not easily see them in a space which was not so dark as she made it appear.
Insipid girl. Couldst she not be useful on a day which requires the most and best of her usefulness? The longer she spent wasting our precious time, the worse she made Elizabeth chances of a reputable match. How couldst she think that she might keep a prince waiting, and in squalor, no less? Such willfulness wouldst not be brooked.
In these twelve years, since the tender age of eight, Melanie's betters were often dismissed for lesser infractions than her insolence. Many, and a great number servants they were, made a transgression that only needed to be committed once, and after such were they were gone and never heard from again.
Yet, the merciful Lady Sheeks always granted Melanie another chance, and still yet another and more opportunities to make mistakes, even to the bafflement and jealousy of all her other servants. She shouldst be grateful for that and not take it for granted, that she shouldst continue to permit herself for daydreams and laziness.
For, 'tis not as though she hadth a place to go if the day shouldst come that her mistress found herself unwilling to keep her any longer. Her mother, though not the person who made her birth, hadth been dead all this time and was therefore of no use to give her a home.
This was such a lecture that, in her kindness, the Lady Sheeks sought to remind her of in these many years of service, and yet, the child took little note of her wisdom and continued the same manner in both disappointing and mediocre service.
Melanie pulled the plush mink slippers from under the bed with a dutiful nod.
Then, much like a Prince Charming to his Cinderella, she glided them on her beloved mistress' feet. These covered those unimpressive raised veins beneath her skin; veins in strings of blue that couldst be likened to those painted swirls swimming beneath a layer of pale marble.
O’ how the Lady Sheeks hated her growing age, and o’ how she made all her efforts to cover it even from those whom she needed not to shield it from; whose opinions were even of no note.
….
The Lady Sheeks was guided to the center of the spacious room, whence she spread her arms to her sides with all readiness. She eyed Melanie's reflection watchfully in the floor-to-ceiling window standing before her, and she grimaced at her.
There she transgressed again, for though well and hard at work on her corset strings, she was teetering her head off in the clouds.
"Tighter, girl!" Lady Sheeks ordered, in an unsurprising manner, like a headstrong rider who bucked her steed .
Melanie snapped her eyes and she focused on the task before her, which the Lady Sheeks took for a pleasing result.
She lifted her head as she groaned and sighed at the ceiling, making the displeasure in both her body and company plain. She hadth little patience for the careless Melanie today, and only the Lady Sheeks knew wherefore the simpering girl was still permitted to work here.
"Melanie, go fetch my tea," Lady Sheeks said, with a flap of her hand.
She was not of much thirst, but she hadth as enough of this child as couldst be withstood by any patient lady. She needed Melanie to be distracted with something else, anything else, so long as she would not be required to witness and suffer her frivolity for another moment.
Melanie dipped low to the floor in a curtsy, though her impatient mistress couldst care less for her devotions. She, then, hurried out of the polished wood panel double doors to her gallant oval bedroom.
Hannah stood in her place; a servant twice the woman of any other, both in girth and attitude. She shoved the new green frock over her mistress' raised arms and head.
Though Lady Sheeks refused to admit it, she hadth always appreciated the lack of a gentle touch from her ‘rather large’ servant girl.
The garment smelled of her signature crushed pearl and goat’s milk scent, and it did well to wash away the last string of stress that hadth clung to her bosom.
"Silly child," Hannah said.
"What?" Lady Sheeks said.
She gaped her mouth open, for she was ever shocked that a servant wouldst think to converse with her, as though she were an equal.
"Pardon my boldness, my lady,” she said, yanking the dress down her waist, “Peradventure she would do better to be out of sight in the scullery. There art many more girls more qualified to serve thee than her and I think they wouldst do the job a thousand times better."
"Wilt they be a thousand times more quiet, too? For peradventure I couldst replace thou both, and be twice for the bounty," Lady Sheeks said, finishing her snark with a pinched purse of her unpainted pale pink lips.
Hannah stopped tugging the dress, and she made a low bow.
She said, "Forgive me, madam. Twas not my place."
"There is the only thought we shalt ever hadth in common. Now, finish dressing me. I shalt hath no more patience for thy dawdling or hers. This must be finished, today. And even if it shouldst smite me, I wilt ensure that she can not change her mind."
Hannah kept her head low as she yanked again at the stubborn silk waist, twice as hard as Melanie couldst manage.
"Melanie ties a proper corset. She flatters me, and without the need of a single compliment. I dare say I hath never in my life felt thinner with her, and 'tis never a job overdone," she said, resisting a smile. She remembered herself then, for she couldst not dare compliment a low-born, especially to a gossiping servant, "Though, she doth take ages to do the work."
"Yea, madam."
"My point is, that though thou performs with half of her quality, thou also gets thy work done in half the time," she said, steadying her shoulders, "Thou art both remotely useful. In thy own ways. Which is wherefore thou both hath been permitted to stay, in my unappreciated mercy, though any other mistress wouldst toss thou for but half of thy transgressions against me."
Twas her maternal instincts that defended Melanie, and for all her efforts, they couldst not be prevented from their existence. In all her heart, she wished Melanie was not a drop of her noble blood. Her presence was a daily reminder of her terrible mistake, and yet in the smallest measure of her heart, she could not bear to be long without her.
"We art all finished, Miss," Hannah said. She bowed low before rising again with a stumble in her gait, "Now, to apply thy powdered wig and makeup. I think that miss wouldst look so glamorous, that the prince shouldst ask to marry thee instead."
"Gracious," Lady Sheeks said. She laughed, and then she paused. She tightened her lips into a familiar pinch, remembering her station, which couldst not be seen chuckling with a low-born. The idea was distasteful and this was not the day to sully good tradition, "Thou art very forward today, Hannah, but thou shouldst hearken with care. I shan’t abide these loose lips for another moment. There wilt be no more talk from servants, unless they art spoken to first. Is that clear?"
Hannah bowed, dropping her smile, "Yea," she said, "my lady."
Lady Sheeks made a pleased smile. She was always happy to put a girl back in her rightful place and twas her precious duty as a good mistress to do this to the utmost satisfaction.
Twas not long before the matter was pushed to the back of her mind, whence Hannah was running a brush through knotted gray curls.
"Goodness," Lady Sheeks said. She tightened her lips as she suffered the pulling brush. The matte was thick and soft as cotton, and not so easy to smooth out, "I hadth a mind that if thou were half as good at brushing as Melanie is with corsets, I shouldst be out of my misery."
"Pardon me, my lady," Hannah said, "I am terribly sorry."
Lady Sheeks scoffed at her.
"Quiet, child," she said.
Melanie beamed as she swept back in the room with a tray of hot tea and biscuits, switching the tension from Hannah to herself, whence it hadth rightfully belonged since her birth.
"Hot tea, miss," she exclaimed, with great delight.
She set it on the lace-draped round dining table with a sincere pride unlike the Lady Sheeks hadth seen in her at any time before this day. Now here was an example that Hannah, and any of her other servants, wouldst do well to follow. O’ if only her friends were here to see and seeth in jealousy, that she had such a servant that was so sincerely delighted in her service.
She poured the tan translucent tea slowly into the porcelain teacup.
Its wafts of lemon and hints of mint spewing from the long trails of smoke filled her nose from across the room and for only a moment, didst let her forget all her troubles.
"Is that the Lemon Earl?" Lady Sheeks asked, with a pleased smile, “Why, what a treat! We hath hadth it not since our youth.”
"Yea, madam," she said, “I felt the day called for the best of our stores. I hadth not made it before this day, but the recipe belonged to my mother, and she made it quite well. I hath no doubt that it shouldst bring thou back to the days of thy youth swiftly, though thou seems not to hadth aged since thou may hadth last tasted it."
"Spare me thy flatteries, girl," Lady Sheeks said, with a snub of her chin, “A ‘yes’ wilt suffice.”
"Yea, miss," Melanie said, with a low bow.
Her adoptive mother, Elizabeth's old wet nurse whose name she hadth quite forgotten, raised Melanie for eight years, until she was old enough to serve.
She hadth done so faithfully since then, even requiring almost no praise, and soon became the most senior maid on her staff, before even the ragged Giles himself. This was after the many necessary firings, of course. Though these days she was often sluggish in certain duties, she was the most loyal of the lot, and found the least false in her flattery.
Tessa, a scullery girl of no note and one of today’s extra hands, for many were needed, followed behind her with steps lighter than a mouse. She managed to keep herself just in the corner of Lady Sheek's wandering eyes.
She hadth only seen her on two occasions. The day of her arrival, the same as Melanie’s own, having come straight from the orphanage and like in age, and now here on this day. She cared not to see her again beyond these two occurences, and much less longed to keep her in the bedroom.
Scullery girls were ill to be trusted. For all their need to be used, they were also well known to be thieves. Drinking their mistresses’ wine and sampling their meats and bread. She knew the deeds well. Given the chance for the presence of finer things, no doubt they wouldst help themselves to things which were much more valuable.
Melanie brought the steaming glass to her attention, and then she bowed her head low.
"Doth thee require a sip, miss?" she said.
Lady Sheeks sniffed a waft of the tea, which was many times stronger than the pleasant scent she enjoyed from across the room. How wonderful. A new favorite. She must require her to serve this to the prince when he arrives, for no doubt it might leave a pleasing mark on his visit.
"Do it," she said.
Melanie brought the hot tea cup to her mistress's lips and she tilted it with much gentleness. She was careful not to do so too much, lest her lips and tongue burned. If that shouldst be allowed to happen, the girl wouldst find herself scalded many times worse for the horrendous and careless transgression.
She tilted the cup away from her lips.
Lady Sheeks licked her mouth. She never admitted it, but this cup was more delicious than the previous ones than ever she hadth tasted in her life; a perfect blend of sweet, before it went down the throat with only the right amount of bitterness.
"Very good," she said, "Now take it away."
She swatted her hand at the air.
Melanie bowed low again, and then she floated on her heels as she returned the tea cup to its tray.
She stood beside it, and then she turned around and folded her hands behind her back. She, in all humility, averted her gaze from her esteemed lady. She appeared strangely expectant of something, and the Lady Sheeks was but a moment away from inquiring to her about such a mind. She was so vexed, for she was intrigued to know what rare interesting thought calculated behind her lowered eyes and clever smile.
As she kept her chin raised, she opened her mouth to speak. Then, the Lady Sheeks’ eyes widened in a great horror.
Standing in the place of her beloved servant, was now the handsome dark-skinned stable hand and her former lover, Charles LeRoy, who materialized before her trembling eyes.
Blood rushed to the top of the Lady Sheek's head, and caused her to tingle from her high forehead to her curled bulbous toes, which now chilled in her slippers.
"What didst I ever do to thee, Gertrude, but love you?" Charles said.
Melanie, no doubt noticing the Lady Sheeks’ horrified glare, bowed low. She broadened the smile on her face, too much like his own, and she was no doubt hoping this may raise her spirits.
The brown transparent figure lingered through her, matching in eyes and temperament, as though one couldst be both a human and ghost bound together.
Lady Sheeks let out a single squeaking yelp. She clutched her chest, and all of her ladies, save for Melanie herself, hadth clamored to catch her before she might strike her head on the polished oak floors.
"Miss, miss," they cried out.
Her legs failed her and she couldst not stand. The ladies let her down and gently moved her nearby, to the bright red-dyed rug of soft mink.
"Miss!" Hannah howled again and again, from her wide-set lungs.
Lady Sheeks hadth pondered not how one might know that they were to die, and that they may go with plans unfulfilled. She hadth often imagined herself so privileged that she may only die in peace in her sleep, with all her dreams, ambitions, and desires having been fully accomplished. Her daughter, a queen. She, an advising queen mother. Mother-in-law to the future king himself. She planned her last breaths and time around living to see all these things, and here now, in this moment, she must now accept that she shan't do this very thing.
This was a pall compared to the long list of pains she hadth crossed over fast in her mind, while she still hadth time to use it.
The cries of her girls aching in her ears and drowning out these thoughts hadth made an unexpected death no better, and in fact, didst make her last moments worse.
Tessa, that wary and thieving scullery maid, glared at her as she backed away to the door. She made no effort to help her, but appeared to be like an afeared chicken.
"Fetch the doctor," Hannah said, pointing to Tessa.
Twas good knowledge to know she sincerely cared for the life of her mistress. Lady Sheeks always knew Hannah was well worth her keep, even for all her brazen faults.
Tessa continued backing away, and then she ran off quite fast. Whether she didst so in terror or to do as she was bid, she shan't know, but she couldst tell in her fading heart that he wouldst not come in time for any course of action. She was now doomed.
Lady Sheeks looked up at Melanie, who now kneeled over her in distress as she caressed the fine grooves of her sunken and purpling cheeks. Here was the dark spot on her past, and she couldst not turn her away. She couldst hath done much better by the child, though this was the wrong time to remedy such a regret.
Her heart quickened in that instant and nearly withered in her chest, and she gripped her collarbones with her last ounce of strength.
In Melanie’s deep brown eyes, the terrible scene played out its course.
There she stood at her husband's side, forced to watch her lover's lifeless bludgeoned body plop into a shallow empty grave. He was face down like a sack of potatoes. He didst not die with a fist or a sword, but hadth merely been baneed by a wine she hadth slipped from her own hand.
He forced her to toss the dirt on the man she loved, if only to prithee her benefactor for the sake of her reputation and future heirs. Twas verily the saddest moment of her entire life, and her one true regret.
"Charles, what we-I didst to thee. I am the most sorry. Thy crime...was loving me. Understand. I-I loved my husband. I hadth to choose him. O’ how I wish we hadth not...for all these years I hath loved thee still..." Lady Sheeks stammered. She hadth never apologized in her life, in accordance to the lessons that raised her, and certainly shouldst not do so to a low-born...but protocol and reputation meant naught at the last moment, "tell Melanie I am sorry. She never knew of us as thine hadth hoped..but I promise that she wilt.."
The small group of servant girls, including Hannah, who encircled her dying body, stared up at Melanie with agape mouths.
She looked back at them with puzzlement, and thus they missed the moment whence her beloved mistress, the esteemed Lady Sheeks, drew in her final breath.
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