"Black Lady, Black Lady, I've stolen your baby," cried the little lad in the glen.
And out of nowhere, she, the Black Lady of Bradley Woods, swooped in and encased the child into a loving embrace.
An embrace that choked the little lad to death.
Upon realizing that he was not her baby, she let out a wail that echoed throughout the woods, scaring the night creatures into hiding and the birds to flee from their branches.
- An excerpt from Black Lady of Bradley Woods
... ... ...
The head housemaid scoffed, casting the book she'd been reading to her study table. She stood from the side of her bed and went to her vanity, staring at her rather depressing reflection in the mirror. She had to admit that she'd seen worse.
Unkempt, walnut-colored hair, tired grey eyes and full lips that arced into a natural frown defined the woman she saw in the mirror. Her current vessel, Anika Bartholomew, would have been prettier than the woman before her now. It just so happened that the soul that possessed her, the Black Lady of Bradley Woods and the lord's head housemaid, happened to be grieving.
It was the 3rd of March. The day soldiers took her baby boy from her.
"Ma'am," said her reflection. "I apologize for being blunt, but shouldn't the head housemaid be attending to her duties already? I imagine the lord won't be so pleased."
The lady sighed. "The lord would understand my predicament, would he not?"
The woman in the mirror pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "The whole household agrees that our lord is a prick, ma'am. Lord Mircea has never fathered any children to understand the pain of losing them."
The Black Lady smiled, replacing the grief in her eyes with a look akin to amusement. "Anika, you've no idea, darling."
The woman in the mirror huffed. "How about I take over at the moment, ma'am? I grieve with you for what happened in the past, but I cannot let you have your duties unattended."
The Black Lady snickered. Strong-willed Anika. It seems the lord had indeed provided her a marvelous vessel. Her previous hosts have been so hateful and terrified of her. But not Anika. Anika understood her pain, and she let her confide in her as one would an old friend.
If it were not for the lord, she would never have had a body she could truly feel at home in.
"Alright, darling," the Black Lady chuckled, wiping moisture from her eyes. "I return control over to you."
She stood back until her full body was reflected by the mirror. Stretching her arms, the Black Lady began chanting.
"Ad inceptum tuum corpus," she chanted, feeling her soul leave her host's body. She found herself pulled out, then pushing Anika's soul back to where she truly belongs.
... ... ...
"Ms. Bartholomew!"
Anika sped up tying her boots, skipping to the door while she tied her laces together. Clearing her throat, she righted herself and patted her skirts before opening the door to find a furious Lord Mircea glaring down at her.
She was right. The lord was livid.
"Where were you when I summoned everyone to my study?"
His words were ice. Had Anika been a newcomer like Katherine or Marcel, she would have probably cowered under that gaze. But she got used to the old prick and knew how meaninglessly catty the lord could be.
"The Lady grieves her husband and child," Anika replied. "It is the anniversary."
Lord Mircea gave a look of fake surprise. "Oh, bollocks! That was today?!" He then planted his hands to his hips and leaned down, nose nearly bumping against hers. "I do not give a damn!"
Anika was annoyed. She punched the lord in the stomach, smirking as he curled into himself with a pained expression. To hell with propriety.
"My lord," she mumbled, dusting off her palms against each other, "regardless of our difference in status, it is improper for a man to be in such close proximity with a woman. Save that for your wife-to-be."
The lord threw her a dirty look. "I should have let those hunters flog you, you blasted little cu—"
Anika punched the lord in the stomach again. "Ah, ah, ah... you do not say that word in this household, my lord."
"This is my house! I can say what I want!" Lord Mircea yelled indignantly. Anika guessed he was to follow up on the retort until he shook his head and straightened himself. "Bloody hell, I don't have time for these shenanigans! I need you to oversee the other maids. I already have Mrs. Ashfield attending to a different matter and we have less than two hours before Lady Godwin's car arrives at the gate."
"As my lord commands," she said as she curtseyed. The lord snorted. Anika knew he sensed the sarcasm in her tone.
She did wonder what the housekeeper was preoccupied with though.
"My lord, if I may—"
"You may not—"
"What is Mrs. Ashfield preoccupied with? It isn't like Mrs. Ashfield to forgo matters concerning Lady Godwin."
Lord Mircea groaned. "A child."
"Pardon, my lo—"
"She is preoccupied with a child," Lord Mircea spat. "Now go."
Lord Mircea stomped away, albeit retaining the grace of an English noble. Anika snickered. The lord did not compare to her previous masters. He was the first and only master she could punch in the guts, yet not demand that she be flogged in the streets for her rudeness. Perhaps it was one of the reasons why many in England consider him an oddity.
"My lord, you do realize that you could have asked another servant or a hall porter to ask for my services." Anika said after a while. Her voice echoed through the empty hall.
Lord Mircea turned, a crooked smile on his face. "I wanted to see how the Black Lady of Bradley Woods was fairing. But I guess her host already has it all under control."
Anika smiled. She curtseyed, watching as the lord disappeared into the left turn. He may be a prick, but he was a kind man to his servants. Propriety be damned.
Anika frowned. She forgot to ask what child the lord was speaking about.
... ... ...
Bloody hell. How was she and the other maids supposed to tidy up this mess of a parlor in under two hours? There were brandy-stains on the carpets, and some of the curtains were draped haphazardly across the windows. The chimney looked like it hadn't been swept in years (and she cussed upon realizing they had no need of it. Most of the manor's inhabitants were either dead or creatures of the underworld).The rest of the room was relatively clean, but not clean enough for a noble English woman for sure. This was unacceptable.
Anika massaged her temples in frustration. Of course, the Black Lady knew how to fix these things in a jiffy, with her ghost retaining her bewitching powers and all. Anika should have known it was the wrong day to take over household duties.
She would have to cheat. Just a tiny bit.
"Ordo," she murmured.
Dust lifted off the floor and furniture's surface, disintegrating into glitter as it reached the ceiling.
"Supernatet."
She waved her arms across the floor in a sweeping motion. Suddenly, the carpet's flaps followed her direction until it floated over the room. Anika clapped her hands together, then made a pushing motion.
"Purificati."
The carpet violently flapped in the air, shaking off the dust and grime until they dissolved into glitter.
Anika lowered her arms, setting the carpet back on the floor. She inspected her handiwork and—well—the room was still not as clean as she would have liked, but it did cut the time for dusting well enough. How in heaven's name was the Black Lady able to pull this off?
Nicole and Jonah were busy tidying up the lord's study, as Lady Godwin would want to peruse his collections for sure. Michelle and Katherine were most likely assisting Joseph with preparing cakes and tea (the lady had such an impressive appetite that could rival Froilan's). The footmen were most likely doing whatever stupid errands Allen asked them to do. And Mrs. Ashfield...
Where was the housekeeper?
She shook her head. She was still very curious about the child Lord Mircea was referring to. Anika could always ask these questions at a later time—
Something knocked over the vase she had just finished cleaning.
Anika turned, ready to give whatever rodent or rascal messed with her progress until she spotted a girl guiltily looking up at her while she picked at the shards of broken porcelain. Anika tilted her head in confusion.
"Excuse me, who are you?" She asked.
"Celeste," the child replied unblinkingly, rising and gracing her with a curtsy. "Who are you?"
"A-Anika..." the housemaid replied. "Wait, what are you doing here?"
The child shrugged, bending down to pick up the broken shards of vase. "Hiding."
Anika dropped her feather duster, rushing until she was before the child. "Don't do that! You'll hurt yourself!"
When Anika touched the girl's hands, she found them odd. They felt hard and heavy like brass, and she could feel something small whirring inside the fingers' joints.
"Wait you're—"
She took a good look at Celeste, mesmerized by the blueness of her unblinking stare. As beautiful as they were, they were equally odd. Her eyes didn't look like mortal eyes at all, more like blue diamonds embedded into glass ivory. Like the eyes of a doll.
"I am what?" The child murmured.
"Celeste!"
Anika turned to the door, finding Mrs. Ashfield with a panicked expression.
Mrs. Ashfield stomped towards the girl and bent until she was at eye-level with her. "Ye had me worried sick!" She prompted the girl to stand. "And leave them nasty little shards, luv. Us ladies shall take care of this, alright?"
"I'll get a broom and pan," said Anika as she went to get the items from the side of the room. She swept the shards into the dust pan while Mrs. Ashfield did a small whistle to blow away the bits of porcelain she couldn't see.
"Mrs. Ashfield," Anika mumbled.
Catching Anika's silent question, Mrs. Ashfield answered, "Yes, she is a doll. An automaton to be exact."
Anika gasped in wonder. "I've never seen an automaton quite like her in my life. Her production seems to be way ahead of our time."
Mrs. Ashfield pursed her lips. "Most likely. Our good for nothing lord purchased her off of a magician's shop in Astershire."
"Buying from a magician? That sounds like an irresponsible thing to do, even for Lord Mircea's standards," Anika said. "You know how the earl is suspicious of mortals possessing magical abilities."
"Exactly," Mrs. Ashfield agreed. "But the bloke wanted to poach the wee lamb away from her owner. He wanted this little doll so bad he signed off a deal he couldn't read."
"A deal he couldn't read?"
"It sounds unbelievable even from me own mouth, dear," Jen said, shaking her head. "Apparently, he signed a contract writ in a strange tongue. Even an imbecile would consider that sneaky if ye asked me."
"What? Are you certain?" Anika gasped. Surely the housekeeper must be joking! "Surely the lord would do no such thing."
Mrs. Ashfield scoffed. "Aye, but he did, lass. I knew it was a bad idea to let Matthews deal with him alone. I expected Edwards would have told him off, but it seems she had a problem keeping the lord's covetousness at bay." Mrs. Ashfield shook her head. "This is beyond any ridiculousness the lord's done. I'm already dreading that we may have to deal with more of his ridiculous shit in the foreseeable future."
Anika sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Never been a boring day with the lord's shenanigans."
"Aye," Mrs. Ashfield agreed.
"Anyways, I've much to do and..." Anika stared at Celeste, unsure of what to make of her, "you have a child to attend to."
Celeste's deadpanned stare unsettled Anika. She wasn't certain why, but there was something about the child's emotionless façade that seemed...
"Come along now," Mrs. Ashfield said. "We can't bother Ms. Bartholomew of her duties especially with a lady coming to visit."
Celeste raised her arm, pointing towards Anika.
"There's a lady behind you."
Anika flinched, looking behind her slowly. There was nothing there really besides the Black Lady in her lacey nightgown, tugging on her sleeve and asking to borrow her body again and—
"You can see her?"
Celeste nodded slowly. "Her and the man on the sofa, and the cat near the chimney, and the boys drawing on the walls," she paused, looking at Mrs. Ashfield's and Anika's dumbfounded expression, "and the dogs with five eyes on each of them, running here."
Run, Anika, run. A hoard of demons are coming.