Emett Samuel Ernest stretched on his bed, he was half asleep and still very tired. Outside the sun had started ascending, the sky was being painted a different color and the birds had risen, the sound of their musical chirping in the air. Emett was still finding it difficult to sleep in a comfortable position, he tossed and turned on his gigantic four poster bed trying to soothe his aching body and worked mind. He had been riding all day yesterday and he hadn't ridden so hard in a very long time. It had all been an effort to satisfy his vanity, to clear his head but today he found himself no more satisfied and in a lot of pain. Even in his state of oblivion his forehead was creased, he was thinking about her and he was feeling uncontrollable rage. She shouldn't have behaved the way she did and he couldn't help feeling the way he felt right now. His eyes suddenly flew open but his mind was still brimmed with thoughts, he jerked into sitting position and supported himself against the headboard, clenched his fist and jammed it into the mattress and punched it violently, he was giving vent to his bottled up fury...
When the anger was spent, he decided to push the thoughts of her to some extremely distant corner of his mind. She wasn't the only thing he had to be concerned about, there were other pressing matters also. He shrugged the last remnants of memories of that night from his mind and got off his bed to get dressed up. He had always been an early riser. There was something about the morning hour, the peace and serenity he found in the loneliness of the early hours was indispensable to him.
He had never felt the need to wear clothes to bed, so when he woke up today, he was, like most other mornings, -completely naked. He briskly progressed to his closet. The angular beams of the sun that pierced their way through the window of his room lit his glorious back side to reveal a golden tan. He dressed himself up with utter carelessness. He picked up the first pieces of clothing he got his hands on, he dressed himself in a white shirt, which he unconsciously paired with pale grey trousers, threw on a black waistcoat and ignored wearing the top coat.
He looked at himself in the mirror and frowned, he wasn't looking at himself; he was thinking about Francesca again. Damn her! For not giving me even momentary respite, he thought to himself feeling simmering wrath.
He went downstairs with a cloud of blackness over his mood. Jerome, his tall, lanky butler had dutifully risen before his master and made all the arrangements for his breakfast.
"Good morning, My Lord!" Jerome addressed his master with sheer correctness as he saw him coming down the imposing stairs in the main hallway.
Emett passed him into the dining room without so much as a nod in his direction. The butler was quick to reach the conclusion that his master was not in a good mood today. Nonetheless, he followed Emett into the dining room to see if he might be in need of something.
Emett finally turned around, acknowledging the butler's presence for the first time that morning, "I'll need my morning paper soon."
Jerome nodded and replied, "Certainly, My Lord!"
Saying so the butler left him and Emett progressed alone towards the dining room. Emmett hadn't really wanted to read the paper, he had just wanted to be left alone. He was glad to have staff who did his bidding without delays, further questioning or hovering.
He sat down on a table decked with all kinds of breakfast food. He had his tea and his bread. In the meantime, Jerome arrived with the morning paper. Emett gave a cursory glance to the news of the day (which wasn't interesting or informative by any stretch) and drank his tea side by side- a meticulous everyday routine. He was, however, feeling much less pleasure in the orderliness of his everyday life today, his thoughts wandered to dangerous territories again. For making my life a living hell, Emmett mused to himself, I'll gladly strangle that pretty little neck of hers.
***********
"I think I know my own mind!" Francesca declared emphatically.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and commented, "No one is stating otherwise, but sometimes you just forget yourself and what happened not two nights ago was a clear example of this."
"Pray, do not goad me!" she felt confused and vulnerable, she had made a mistake and could not atone for her behavior, actually she felt no need for it but it was for her sister's sake that she was even contemplating apologizing to the horrible man. Horrible, indeed, he had made her feel as though she could drown in shame and he himself had felt no remorse, no regret, he was the sort of man she could never respect let alone beg for forgiveness. He was ruthless, lethal, set in his ways- the ways of a man both arrogant and insensitive to the point of being insensible. Even though he had deserved it, she felt ashamed of herself and her actions, this kind of behavior was certainly not synonymous with her otherwise level- headed self. In her mind she knew that this had to be done, she would not relish the experience of stooping so low but she had to force herself to be humble, so she resolutely rose from a settee positioned in the middle of their small but cozy kitchen, it smelled of fresh loaf of bread and recently boiled potatoes, she evaluated that when she'll get inside the Ernest Mansion she'll miss the safety of her sweet home passionately. She trudged to the cottage door.
"So you'll do it?!" Elizabeth stood right behind her, she had followed her all the way to the door in anticipation.
"Yes! Not for me but for you", Francesca uttered every word lucidly, succinctly, she glanced sideways after this admission so that her sister might not have any misconceptions about her change of heart. She'll never be polite towards him; after what had passed between them she knew it was not a possibility but she was, with great reluctance, willing to employ civility in her manner.
Elizabeth was ecstatic, she gave her sister a tight squeeze and replied, "I am proud of you anyway!"
I wish I didn't feel so apprehensive about this, Francesca silently and anxiously thought to herself. Her sister had her interests at heart, had it been any other way Francesca would have never bothered going to him, she would have walked off the property, away from him, away from his clutches, away from his strangeness and incongruity.
He was so difficult to understand and his interest/curiosity in her, even harder to interpret. He was an out of control thrill-seeker and nothing more, she was the disadvantaged waif in his way. It wasn't hard to add it up, she just felt so confused and exposed at times. She was awkward highs and lows in front of him- nervous, irritable, calm, suffocated, effusive and one time even indecipherably passionate and then utterly hateful. What was it about him? She didn't know. She knew she never wanted to be a cheap, despicable toy to play with; he wanted to make sure she was one and that she never ought to forget her place.
******************
"My Lord!" she bowed in front of him, her heart was racing as wildly as his horse had been yesterday. She could feel his eyes boring holes into her backside and she finally raised her head expecting him to say something mean and scathing, he did not fail her- "You remember your position...finally!" and then he stood there, staring at her with such amused insolence that her mind could conjure up repeating her unforgivable actions but the slap, she imagined, would be more forceful this time. She quickly rechecked her thoughts and promised herself that neither his actions nor his words will ever be able to provoke her again. She stared at him trying her best to conceal her true emotions and said in a honeyed tone, "I have come here to apologize."
She looked at him expectantly, his face didn't register the incredulity she wanted to see there; his face was a mask like hers, this was her signal to continue.
"I slapped you and I apologize!" Francesca said it with such an air of finality that had there been any people around her they would have mistaken her for the master and Emmett for the help.
"Is that it?" Emett still looked serene and nonchalant. She had arrived in his home just as he was finishing with his ritualistic breakfast, she had not been very far from his mind. When Jerome had announced her, Emett had experienced a thrill that had jolted him out of his tedium.
"Yes!" she didn't really know what else he wished for her to say to him. Even saying this much had been torturous indeed; it had given her ego a crushing blow.
Emett felt mischievous now, she might be at a loss for words but he wanted to reprimand her for her behavior very badly, "But sweetheart what about your penance?"
"What penance? I expect you will forgive me now that I have sincerely apologized", she suddenly felt apprehensive again, as though the large expanse of Ernest Mansion's book laden library was closing in on her, she knew there was something in the wind, Emett's tone, the sinister way in which he looked at her, rang warning bells in her mind. Dear Lord! Please save me from this boar, she silently prayed. He was advancing towards her, his legs were still transfixed at the same spot he had been in before but his upper body slowly closed the distance separating her face from him, when he was only inches away from her, he said in a no nonsense tone, "You'd be working in the manor now, to specify it...the kitchen. You'd serve as an assistant to the cook."
Francesca stared at him wide eyed, she couldn't have thought of a worse punishment for herself. To be in such close proximity of him everyday, she felt revulsion and disdain she didn't know she was capable of. This was the kind of man he was, always evoking the devil in her, by being near him she always felt like a closer ally of Satan himself.
"Hun? Now you go! I have work to do!" she had snapped up her head when he had used the endearment and his sudden dismissal plunged her into a deeper reverie. What did this man want from her? He kept teasing her, always becoming overly flirtatious when no one was around. The games he played with her were incomprehensible to her young, inexperienced person. She knew she didn't have the mind to understand a complete madcap like him; all the years that she had known him, she had never been able to understand him. He could be a cold, mean-spirited aristocrat, easily pull off the role of a concerned companion just to turn around to behave like a hot-tempered, jaw-grinding maniacal master. He was beyond the realm of her sane comprehension; she never felt the urge to stretch her intellect to a level where a man like Emett would become a curious study rather than a burdening research. What she wished now was to get out of his library and was immensely relieved to know that she was no longer required.
When Francesca stepped out of the gigantic three-story, brown-bricked manor, she paused and let the fresh summer air brim her lungs to their capacity. She finally relaxed; Emmett's thriving, palatial estate felt like an excessively adorned prison to her; there was never enough light, even less air. She disregarded the mansion's large, hundred and twenty glass windows when she examined the lack of Natural forces within the enclosed space. The house was a complete antithesis of the lush green land that surrounded it. Francesca turned around to face the larger than life construction, in addition to the main structure she could see the two front towers standing firmly erect in front of her, she said to herself, "Sadly, it isn't just the master who belittles me, the rock and stone also look down upon me- the commoner!"
She hastily made her way back to her cottage which was in the south east corner of the Ernest Manor. The house had been called by the same name for over a century because the Ernests had been the only occupants of it during that time period and the estate had been passed on to the successors over the period of time. Francesca had heard it in passing that it was Emmett's great grandfather who had first inherited the estate from an uncle and given it the family name.
"He wants me to work in the kitchen!" Francesca frantically yelled and simultaneously entered in her cottage through the main door. Her exasperation and anxiety were written all over her face; for the hundredth time that day Elizabeth reevaluated the prudence of having sent Francesca to her master for the purpose of making amends. Elizabeth found her sister in a greater debacle than before which was a cause of great discomfort to herself as well. She was the elder one, it was her duty to protect her younger sibling and provide her with comfort and support in hour of need. She, however, felt completely helpless.
"First tell me what happened when you apologized to Lord Ernest?" Elizabeth approached the problem rationally.
Elizabeth hadn't even finished uttering her question when Francesca began her angry tirade. She related everything that Emmett had done and said to her today. She finally also told her sister about events that had occurred two nights ago, she edited the story though. It was embarrassing to her to fully relate to her sister the details of what had happened. She did, however, try to be precise. Francesca also didn't relate the graphic details of Emett's doings and sayings because she didn't want her sister( who was also the head of the staff at Ernest Manor) to harbor ill-will against her master. But she had endured too much now and couldn't bear anymore of his inappropriate overtures. She wanted her sister to know the true nature of her employer.
"I was outside in the gardens with Lillian and Ivy when he came from behind me and caught me in his steel grasp and carried me off to the fountain as I struggled vehemently. Now I really would have tried harder to struggle against him except I didn't want to give offense and jeopardize your employment! When we were alone he tried to kiss me, that insufferable man, and then he called me 'beautiful' and said that if I would just let him kiss me once he would feel...now how did he put it? I don't quite remember! Oh yes! He said..." at this point, Elizabeth, the romantic that she was, was all anticipation, awaiting an avowal of love from a man whom everyone considered a jaded cynic, "glad."
"Excuse me?! I think I didn't quite hear you right, you didn't say 'glad' did you?" Elizabeth replied utterly astounded by what had passed between her sister and her employer.
"I said exactly that! Now what sort of a fellow is this man? A libertine to the core! I did what I thought most appropriate an action for an occasion of that sort I..." Francesca was interrupted.
"You slapped him", Elizabeth finished her sister's sentence for her. Elizabeth kept staring in the distance still dumbfounded and utterly at loss of words. So this was the kind of man Lord Ernest actually was, he was bent on seducing her little sister, thought Elizabeth. She was even more disturbed and uneasy when she remembered that Emett wanted Francesca to work in the Manor's kitchen now. She shared her feelings with her sister, "The job in the kitchen won't do! You will always be in harms way."
"What can I do then?" Francesca's usual cheerful countenance was replaced by a pale face and disturbing sadness. She didn't want to be near Lord Ernest, she didn't care about being used by a wealthy English Lord, no matter how beautiful or rich he was. She had dignity and respect and a man like him knew nothing about those words. What he was doing to her was making her hate him with every fiber of her being, she might be young and naive but she did know when a man crossed his boundaries and Emett had been doing so from the moment she had turned seventeen. He looked at her as though he would devour her in the first opportunity he got. She was scared of him, she admitted it to herself but she was never able to express her feelings in front of her sister. Francesca, therefore, hid her fear of him under a cloak of abhorrence and her feelings started magnifying from the moment he looked at her differently. She was now desperately dependent on Elizabeth's advice. She wanted to get out of the kitchen duty at the manor with minimum repercussions and she knew her sister was the only person who could solve her problem.
Her older sister was a widower of a navy officer whose ship had sunk down during his expedition to India three years ago, but she had been working in the Manor long before she had married Robert. Elizabeth had followed in the footsteps of her parents; they had both been in service of the Ernests as well. Francesca had once mockingly pointed out to her sister that working as servants was their family business and she wished that Elizabeth had, had more motivation and enthusiasm to improve her standard in life. This was the only time in Elizabeth's life that she had been stern and disappointed in her sister, she had said, "Little sister if it weren't for me and our family business, you wouldn't even be here today. The accident that killed our mother and father left me with very little choice in terms of finding an occupation; it was either this or the streets! I had to feed and clothe you, I chose what you so aptly call our family business to take care of you!"
Francesca had grown bright red with mortification and regret by the end of her speech about Emett. She was indebted to her sister for giving her a new life, she knew she was the only one who could avert this disaster.
"Take me out of this catastrophe Eliza!" Francesca pleaded to her sister now.
"Oh! Don't you worry child, I will go and talk to him tomorrow. If I gravely explain the situation to him, I am sure he'll understand that I do not agree with his decision." Elizabeth embraced her sister in a loving, protective hug, she wished to shelter her from the malice and predation of the world, at present she was like a tigress protecting her young cub from the looming danger.