After Ann had finished fixing her up, she had left, and Sam was still admiring herself in the mirror when she heard the firm rap on the door. She leaped up but stumbled and fell. She glared at the high heels Ann had worn on her feet. Grabbing the chair she was sitting on, she managed to stand, but her legs wobbled.
"These shoes are tedious," She lamented. "But they are so pretty."
She took a step, then another.
"It's not bad."
She decided since she could still walk. She opened the door and saw a tall, lean middle-aged man looking at her with a plain expression.
"I'll show you to the dining room."
He said, then turned immediately and left. Before Sam could digest what he said, he was already disappearing into a bend. Sam dashed after him, forgetting about the tedious shoes she was wearing. She paid for it as her ankles bent awkwardly. She swallowed the pain and hurried on, making sure they stayed straight. Going into the bend, she saw the lean figure of the man. With shoes clicking loudly, Sam tried to catch up, but the man wasn't relenting and kept striding. She almost cried when he started climbing the stairs. They were going to the top floor. She made it upstairs, but the man was farther away now. At this point, her ankles were screaming.
He opened a door and went through it. Sam tried to run.
If she missed him at any bend, she might not be able to locate the dining room in this castle.
Clicking for all it's worth, she burst through the doorway and immediately halted. She was finally in the dining room. There was a medium-sized rectangular table that had about four chairs on both sides. Desmond was seated at the extreme with that phone again, looking at her with a frown. Looking around, she noticed the servants in the room that were serving the meals. They were sneaking glances at her and seemed to be hiding their smiles.
"What is funny?" She thought.
When she looked back at Desmond, he was back on his phone. She wobbled towards the opposite side of the table and took the seat directly opposite Desmond. He set his phone aside and picked up his cutlery without even looking at her and began to eat. Not knowing what else to be doing in the dining room, Sam decided to follow suit. She scanned the table. There was shrimp, there was salmon, there was beef. The rest of the dishes didn't count as they were mainly vegetables and grains.
Sam pulled all three bowls of protein and began to pick them up with her fingers, alternating between all three.
Desmond, who was slowly eating, reached for the beef beside him to take a few pieces for himself, but there was nothing. As his hand hung in the air, he watched her stuff her face. He heard someone stifle a laugh behind him. He turned and frowned at the two maids, who were fearfully looking away.
"Leave us," he said in a low, deep voice.
The maids scurried away, making Sam look up from her food. As the maids shut the door behind them, she could still feel eyes on her. She turned her head and saw the same man who was the reason her feet now felt like she had lent them out to someone. As she looked, the man stared straight at her unblinkingly. He was almost glaring. Sam went back to her meal, but she was stiff from being watched that way.
"You too, Baron," Desmond said.
The man gave a curt bow and left.
Finally having the whole room to themselves, Sam settled in to resume her eating. She stuffed her cheeks so full it was difficult to chew. As she struggled, she looked up to see Desmond staring at her. What is wrong with these people? Why do they keep staring instead of minding their business? The food suddenly lost its taste as she struggled under Desmond's eyes.
"You should have eaten one piece at a time, Miss Denis."
She blushed profusely with embarrassment.
"It must have been tough for Fred, keeping you thin despite your enormous appetite," he chided him without a hint of humor.
She finally managed to swallow, but it went down the wrong track. The pepper in the meat got into her nasal tract. She began to cough uncontrollably till her head blazed red. Her eyes teared up. The pain was intense.
Desmond couldn't stand it any longer. He calmly wiped his mouth with a napkin and walked out quietly.
* * * *
"Lunch was a disaster!" Sam groaned. Right now, she is coiled up in bed. After Desmond had left her alone in the dining room, Monica and a trail of maids burst to her rescue. Monica was the elder maid from earlier who had come in with Magdalena. Monica had ordered a minty concoction to be served to her. She said she felt better after taking it. After that, Monica personally saw to her bath and tucked her in bed like a little child. Sam wasn't complaining though. It reminded her of her mother. She'd learned earlier that the Butler was the tall, lean, middle-aged man Desmond referred to as Baron. Monica was his wife. They both ran the mansion. Where Baron was cold and intimidating, Monica was welcoming and sweet. The perfect mix. An iron fist and that of flesh.
Monica had rid her of the heavy dress and the tedious shoes and put her in cotton shorts and a loose shirt. It felt so comfortable, especially with the bed. Just last night, she slept in the store with only a few old sheets between herself and the hard concrete floor. She rolled onto her back and smiled up at the ceiling in contentment. If she were to be in Fred's house now, she would have been stressing herself out with endless chores and errands. She wondered how they coped now.
Her mother… They will make her their next target. She felt sad, imagining how worried her mother would be not knowing where she was. She has to go see her and let her know she is fine.
She lazily dragged herself out of bed. Wearing a pair of flat shoes she found next to the bed, she winced at the angry red bruises on her feet. Her right ankle ached too. She was never going near those shoes again, no matter how pretty they were. She limped out of the room into the hallway.
The place was strangely quiet. As she limped through the hallway, it felt like she was the only one in the house. The sky was almost dark now. She must have missed dinner. She wandered through the second floor, hoping to see someone and satiate her rumbling stomach. Sam was not becoming dependent on the servants. She just didn't understand a lot of things in the house. The house was so big that she couldn't tell where was where. Moving from hallway to hallway, Sam wondered what all the closed rooms were for. Why have an enormous house when you only need a few rooms? The rich knew how to waste money.
She eventually found a double door that wasn't locked. She threw the doors open and was greeted by the dimming sky. She stepped out into the open air. It was a balcony that oversaw the back of the house. The water in the pool reflected the last rays of the orange sun. The water was rippling like something had been inside just a minute ago. She notices movement at the pool's bottom and leans in for a better look. There was someone inside.
As she looked, the person resurfaced. It was Desmond. His black hair clung to his face like a thick black piece of clothing as his head burst out of the water. He brought up a hand and swept it aside, revealing his handsome face. Sam's lips subconsciously parted as she watched him shake his head, scattering droplets of water. Her gaze moved lower, to his neck and the lengthening of his shoulder.
The rest of his torso was submerged in water, and from her point of view, it looked distorted. Sam ached to see what he looked like bare-chested. As if an angel nearby heard her wish, Desmond started swimming back, his strong arms and shoulders thrusting him through like a bullet. As he grabbed the ladder and started ascending to land, Sam willed herself not to blink.
Standing tall, broad, and dripping wet, Desmond walked out of the pool. His chest was firm and tanned. The only time Sam had seen a real chest was when Fred walked around without his shirt, but Fred's chest was a far cry from what was before her. The only thing he could be compared with was one of those male pictures she used to see in magazines and would find in Diane's room. Desmond was wearing a black trainer that hung loosely around his waist. She groaned. She would've preferred to see him in one of those tight shorts men wore in poolside photographs. Sam quickly scolded herself mentally for thinking up something so bad.
Desmond took a small towel from a maid and wiped his face and hair. Sam had to lean heavily on the railings to see him now as he had gotten too close to the house and was almost under her.
"Lean any further and you will find yourself bleeding beside the pool."
Sam spun around at the voice and saw Baron standing in the doorway with his hands crossed behind him. It was a posture characteristic of him. You will always find his hands behind him. The only exception would be if he had to open a lock. Even then, he will use one hand for the job and keep the other one behind him. She doubted he ever used them while eating, but she had never seen him eating.
"I was only checking out the pool," Sam stuttered.
"I see."
After that, he just stood there and looked down at her. Sam felt like a mouse under an eagle's gaze. She fidgeted uncomfortably.
"I'll go back in now," she stuttered and hurried past him.
"It's rude to watch people secretly," Baron said as she hurried away. She froze.
"You shouldn't be caught doing that again."
Sam looked at him over her shoulder. He still had his back to her. Sam limped away angrily.
"Moron…" she muttered when she was out of earshot.
Sam was not one to be offended easily, but Baron knew how to make people feel small.
As she limped around trying to locate her door, she ran into Monica.
"Thank God!" Sam sighed. Monica smiled warmly.
"It's a good thing you are here. I am lost, Monica."
"It's a big house, ma'am. Sometimes I get lost myself."
"I'm not safe then."
They giggle.
"You are safe. You can always find someone to direct you. It could be one of the servants, myself, or the Baron."
"I didn't see any until you. Where is everyone?"
"In the servant quarters, we will try to give you some privacy. Have you seen Baron?"
"He's back there on the balcony," Sam pointed out the direction.
"Was he mean to you?" Monica asked with concern.
"Nnnn... "
"Baron can be harsh sometimes, but he is a good person. Thank You, ma'am," she said and hurried away.
Sam remembered she was supposed to ask on the way to her room. But since she didn't want to face Baron, she decided to just try her luck.
So, she went about trying every door. They were locked. In the end, one gave. Sam stepped inside and quickly realized it wasn't her bedroom or anyone's bedroom. This room had a large table in the middle with an overhead light. The walls had shelves, which carried books and files. It was a study.
"Not my room," muttered Sam then turned to leave.
"Miss Denis," She jumped in surprise at the voice. It was Desmond. He was sitting in a chair in a corner, holding some paper. Sam hadn't seen him.
"I'm sorry for intruding. I was just trying to find my room."
"It's fine. I was about to send it to you anyway."
Sam's heart leaped in her chest. Has Baron informed him of what happened on the balcony?
He left the chair and went to the middle table to set the papers on it.
"Let's discuss our marriage," he said seriously.