On Fire and Thin Ice Ch. 01

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She felt a tear run down her cheek...
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She felt a tear run down her cheek. Quickly bringing her hand up to her face she wiped it away. Nobody should know how she felt. Nobody was allowed to see her hurt. Taking a deep breath she tried to clear her mind, knowing she had to carry on like nothing had happened. Or at least like what had happened didn't affect her in any way.

Hearing footsteps coming closer, she straightened her back and picked up a freshly washed towel and started folding it. "Emily, did you hear? Isn't that wonderful news?! Imagine all the guests arriving. All the food that needs to be prepared...and the rooms of course!" Angela came bursting into the room, buzzing as always. "Yes, Angie. Yes, I heard," Emily replied. But as always Angela was too busy with her own words, "Who knows who might visit. Oh, I'm already looking forward to the parties!" Angela was a forty-something year old woman that had been working at the mansion for years. To most of the staff she was known as Angie Ears. A joke at her constant talking but inability to listen, unless it was rumours and gossip.

Emily picked up a stack of folded laundry and left the room. Angela was still going on about the exciting news as she was making her way up the steps of the small staircase that was used by staff. She walked down the long narrow hall and entered one of the rooms at the end of it. The big bedroom was quiet, except for the sounds from outside that were coming in through the open window. After placing the folded laundry in one of the big drawers, she walked up to the window and looked out. It was a sunny day and the big lake seemed quiet apart from a few couples holding hands and feeding the ducks.

A few moments passed before she stepped back and closed the window. She'd seen enough, the happy people and the bright weather wasn't suiting her mood. Biting her lip in anger she turned around and headed for the door. As she reached for the handle the door swung open, almost knocking into her. She let out a soft gasp in shock and stepped back. It was the lord of the mansion standing in the doorway. His cheeks blushing red from being startled of the person in his room. It was nothing new, the staff would be all over the house during the week. Cleaning and tidying the place as always. "Oh, Emily...," He said in a kind voice, quickly composing himself. She politely nodded her head, answered a quick "Good day, sir," and walked past him, leaving the room as quickly as she could.

As she entered the big kitchen, Angela was still talking. Two of the younger maids listening close to her every word. Pretending to be busy Emily rushed on, heading for the back door. As always she went out to get the big bed sheets of the lines behind the house. They surely would be dry by now, stiff and crisp from the fresh air. "Ehm, Emily", one of the maids called after her, "The lord asked for you to take in the sheets. He wants the beds made before the guests arrive". Raising an eyebrow, Emily stopped for a moment, but without turning back to the others, she answered a simple "Of course" and headed out.

Picking up one of the wicker baskets she walked over to the area where the bed sheets were slowly swaying back and forth in the wind. She liked being outside, escaping from all the bustle in the mansion. There was hardly a room where she could just sit and enjoy the silence. The only place where she wouldn't be bothered by anybody of the Brown family or staff members was her small dim room in the attic. There she would read and write, thinking and dreaming about life, but only until one of the bells on the wall would ring again. The signal calling her back to reality, back to work in case her imagination drifted off too far.

As she was taking the sheets off the lines she spotted a figure standing on the balcony. Probably sir Steven, she thought to herself, needing a break from his wife's rambling every now and then. But as the man raised his hand and waved at her, she knew she had been mistaken. Acting like she hadn't noticed, Emily quickly turned her back towards the building, ignoring the voyeur and continuing her work. Making sure the person on the balcony had left, Emily picked up the basket full of linen and walked back towards the house. In the big kitchen, more staff had gathered, preparing the meals for the coming days. Emily was headed for the basement where the laundry room was. Pressing and ironing sheets surely would help to get rid of some bottled up frustration.

Taking a big sheet, Emily placed it on the big rolls of the pressing machine. As she started turning the handle Lily and Rose, two of the youngest maids came in, giggling and laughing. "I've seen her, she's very pretty," Lily said, filling a big tub with water. "I bet she's a bitch though," Rose commented, adding boiling water from the kettle. It must be Alexandria they were talking about Emily thought to herself. Trying to ignore them as much as she could she took the pressed linen and placed it on the big ironing table. Then she took the heavy iron and placed it on the corner of the sheet and started smoothening out the wrinkles in the fabric. As her hand slowly pushed the iron over the table she couldn´t help but listen to what the maids were going on about. "I think her name is Polly," Lily said while she added more soap to the tub of water.

Polly, a blond haired girl just a little older than Emily, was one of the maids lady Alexandria had taken with her the few times she stayed at the mansion. Though the lady was from a family that wasn't far as wealthy as the Brown family she had a good few people working for her as servants. They would probably be added to the Brown family staff in the nearby future. The mansion would be big enough to take them in and there would be enough work for all of them to stay employed. Though that thought would have reassured most of the staff members of both parties, Emily feared for the changes it might bring along. Polly was a threat for her position because she had the same tasks in Lady Alexandria's staff as what Emily fulfilled in the Brown mansion. The fact that Polly had been in staff from a very young age only made Emily more fearful of losing position.

-----

It was only since a few years that Emily was a member of staff for the Brown family. Before that she had helped in the bakery her parents owned. The North Street Bakery was well known for its fine pastry and breads. People from all layers of society came to buy the products and the Brown family was one of their biggest customers. Every other day one of the staff members, Nicholas would stop by the bakery to buy freshly baked bread and treats for the Brown family. Emily knew he liked her a lot. He always made sure that it was Emily behind the counter when he entered the shop and Emily always made sure to add an extra cookie to the order for him. Over the weeks and months he'd stopped by it was always small talk between them, but Emily considered him a friend.

It was that one cold morning in January that had changed Nicholas from being a friend into much more. It was early morning and as always Emily's parents had been up for hours already, preparing dough and breads for the new day. All of a sudden Emily was woken by loud screaming and when she opened the door of her room to see what was going on, thick black smoke filled her lungs. Coughing and gasping for air, Emily fought her way through the flames in search of her parents. The wooden ceiling was slowly crumbling and bits of burning material rained down around her. She cried out for her parents in panic, losing all sense of orientation as she kept spinning around trying to avoid getting caught in the fire.

She felt a strong hand on her shoulder, pulling her back. A sense of relief rushed through her body. She was sure it was her dad, putting an end to this fear of feeling lost. But as she turned around, it was not her father´s face, but the kind eyes of Nicholas that looked at her. Trying to struggle herself free from his tight hug, wanting and needing to run back into the burning bakery. Screaming and crying, kicking and punching Nicholas so he would let her go, but he wouldn´t. He kept her safe, pulling her away from the flames. For a long time she had blamed him for not being able to save her parents, but as days, weeks and months passed she knew she had been very lucky and it was a miracle that she was alive.

Nicholas had taken her to the Brown Family and it was Steven that had suggested she would stay and work as a maid for the family. At first she was appointed as a female butler to Steven. A rarity these days, but seeing her experience of working in the bakery for years he thought it was wisest. His wife, Natalie, however didn't like the plan an after only a few days already started suspecting Steven was interested in more than Emily's tea serving. Since then Emily had been in charge of the laundry. Her main task was making sure fresh linen was laid out every day in every bed room and guest room of the mansion.

Where most staff was not allowed around the guests, apart from the butlers and maids serving out the food and drinks, visitors were less distant towards Emily. Of course her background story made a difference, but it was also her position in the household that made things a little easier for her. She was allowed in the private rooms, making sure everything was in order just before bedtime, but also the one that changed the still warm bed sheets while people were having their breakfast in the morning. It had happened more than once before where in the middle of the night people would ring for another pillow or woolen blanket and Emily had rushed up to their rooms making sure they could have a peaceful night of comfortable sleep. As a result apologies for waking her in the middle of the night and small talk about the lovely morning would be the start of the day.

Those small things were a reason for Emily to be fearful of losing her position. The talks with guests and the Brown family members themselves. Would she go back to working in the kitchen it would feel like a big step back and a slap in the face. `Back to a kitchen help´, Rose whispered in a voice loud enough for Emily to hear. It was not what was said, but the sudden stinging, burning sensation on her wrist that made Emily hiss a muffled ´Fuck,´ as she looked at the red burn on her skin. Putting the heavy iron on the stand, she rushed to the tap and poured some cool water on her arm. Rose and Lily, giggling and chatting as always ignored her and walked past Emily, leaving for the kitchen again.

Leaning over the big table, Emily took a deep breath, trying to calm down. `You can do this, pull yourself together,´ she thought. Trying to convince herself that she was just overreacting, deep down knowing she was not. After another few deep sighs and straightening her back, Emily picked up a stack of folded sheets and walked up the stairs, heading for the guests rooms.

As she came up the big stairs she saw two men approaching and instantly panicked when she realised it was sir Steven and lord Christopher. Seeing there was no other way to go, she quickly walked passed them and almost sighed with relief until a voice called her back. ´Emily, can I have a word with you?', Christopher asked. Not turning back to face the two men, she replied ´I´m sorry sir, very busy with the rooms,´ and quickly rushed into one of the bed rooms.

´No,´ she said to herself in a strict voice as she closed the door behind her. Emily was not going to have a word with him, not now. In the past hearing those words could make her day so much better, but now she would do her best to avoid ´that talk´.

She took one of the sheet and spread it out over the bed, making sure no creases or folds were visible.

-----

During the first weeks in the mansion Emily had felt lonely, filled with grief over the loss of her parents. It was only when she was alone in her room that she allowed herself to let the emotions take over. More than once she had cried herself to sleep. During the days of work she would be strong, act like she could take it all and didn´t need help from anybody.

It was during one of those restless nights that she had gotten up from bed to go to one of the big kitchens and make herself some warm milk. The thing her mum always did when Emily couldn´t sleep. As she was pouring the drink into a big mug, the kitchen door slowly creaked open, causing her to jump. When she looked up, she saw lord Christopher standing there, also having difficulties sleeping. Emily poured him some milk as well and they had talked for about an hour before they both returned to their rooms. Perhaps it was just the milk, though she assumed it was also the talking that had calmed her down. She had drifted off in a peaceful sleep without any scary nightmares that night.

In the weeks that followed the nightly talks occurred a few more times due to heavy weather and storms waking up both Emily and Christopher. Some nights it was a just short chat about the bright lightning and others they had sat down in the kitchen and conversed for more than an hour before making their ways back to bed. More and more the two opened up to each other, sharing their nightmares or thoughts that had kept them awake. As Emily shared about missing her parents she learned that she wasn´t the only one bearing a big loss.

Lord Christopher had been married for a few years with lady Madeline and they lived a happy life at the mansion. They were overjoyed and somewhat relieved when they found out Madeline was pregnant. A big celebration was prepared for the birth of a new member to the Brown family. But what should have been a day of happiness turned into the start of a period of grief. One morning Christopher was woken by his wife shaking his arm and crying in panic. Seeing the blood soaked sheets between her legs, he knew it meant trouble.

The best doctors were called to the big mansion and they rushed into the bedroom. Christopher felt helpless and lost. Standing there seeing the pale, sweaty face of his wife he didn´t know what to do or think. All he could do was pray and hope for the best. He then was ordered to leave the room as a caesarean section was needed. What felt like hours passed as he waited in the hall way, sitting on a old wooden chair. It hurt his back, but he couldn't care about the pain he was feeling in his body. As he started to drift off in a shallow sleep, the door was opened and one of the doctors came out with a serious look on his face. Christopher looked up and seeing the man shaking his head, he knew he had lost his child before he could have held it in his arms.

"Lady Madeline lost a lot of blood and needs to rest now," the man said in an almost business like voice. Before the doctor got back to the bedroom, he turned one more time and whispered a soft "I'm sorry, sir." Christopher felt empty and wanted to cry but simply couldn't. As a ghost like figure he walked down the big stairs and entered one of the rooms where he sat down in the big leather seats. His back thankful for the change from the hard wooden chair.

Maids walked in and out, lighting the fire and bringing in drinks. But all Christopher did was sit and stare into nothing. Trying to understand what had happened and what had caused the bleeding. He was no expert on child birth and certainly not a doctor, but reading books on human anatomy and medicine he knew what had happened wasn't just a random twist of fate. No matter how hard he raked his brain, there was no answer to the question 'why?'.

The room was starting to get darker as evening fell and Angie came in to set up some supper. Lord Christopher wasn't hungry at all, but knew he needed to eat something so he could stay strong and support his wife. After a few spoonfuls of soup the same doctor entered the room. His face as serious as before. The man coughed to clear his throat and slowly spoke up again, "I am terribly sorry, sir." Christopher nodded his head slowly, "I know you did all you could...a small child doesn't stand a chance in situations like these," he replied in a calm voice. The doctor looked at him in shock and shook his head again, "No sir...it is...it's your wife," he answered in a whisper.

For days lord Christopher had been angry at anything and everybody. Blaming the entire world for the loss of both his wife and what should have been his first born son. As days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, his anger turned into mourning and grief. Years passed and the pain and sorrow of the loss slowly faded. It had been the midnight talks Christopher had with Emily that had brought back the memories and emotions of those days.

-----

As Emily placed the last few pillows back on the big bed she heard the door behind her open and close. She knew who was entering the room, didn't turn her head to see and acted like she hadn't noticed. "Emily?" a deep voice called out her name, making her freeze for a moment. "Yes sir," she replied in an emotionless tone continuing her work. Footsteps came closer and she knew he was standing behind her now, but still she pretended to be busy. "Emily, look at me..." his voice softer now and almost begging. She turned around, biting her lip to keep a straight face. "Yes, sir?" she replied, putting extra emphasis on the last word. "Enough with the 'sir'! We're alone now!" he snapped, fed up with her innocent act. Freezing for a moment, she looked at him in shock. Never had he raised his voice to her like that. It was always deep, dark and understanding, sometimes a bit raspy depending on how early he'd woken up. But now it was stern and serious, causing a sense of discomfort with her.

Trying to step back, she almost stumbled back on the bed, but just about managed to keep her balance. Staring him straight in the face, unsure of what to say or what to do, she opened her mouth to speak up. She changed her mind though and stepped away from him, heading for the door. "I have no time for chats, I need to prepare the rooms for your guests," she mumbled in an annoyed voice.

He had heard enough of her insolent replies and before she could take hold of the door handle he reached for her outstretched arm, grabbing her wrist to stop her from leaving. She cried out in pain and he immediately withdrew his hand in shock, baffled at her reaction. He hadn't gripped her arm too forcefully, had he? Dumbstruck he looked at her and whispered a soft "I'm so sorry.." as she pulled her wrist against her chest. Taking another step towards her he tried to take her hand, making sure he wouldn't hurt her again. As he took hold of her fingers she allowed him to pull her arm towards him, revealing the big red burn on her skin.

A small sense of relief washed over him. It wasn't his hand that had caused the pain, but at the same time he worried about her skin. She let her arm rest in his hand for a moment, biting her lip at the feeling of his warm fingers on her skin. He glanced up to her face, making sure she was calming down. In his warm and friendly voice he asked her, "What happened?" as he gently ran his index finger over the red burn. She gasped softly, not so much from pain but more because his attitude had changed so quickly back to the warm man she knew as he held her arm. "It's nothing," she started. "It comes with preparing the rooms for your guests," she added, smiling to make sure he understood it was a joke and not an attempt to blame him.

"It´s not nothing, Emily," he replied, sounding slightly worried, "You need to see a doctor about this." A soft chuckle escaped her lips, "It's not that bad, just a superficial burn. It will sting for a few days, but that's all. Nothing serious." Their eyes met and he smiled, "Okay, if you say so." Before she could reply with some smartass answer he raised his hand, bringing her wrist up to his face and softly blew some cool air over the skin. Again she found herself biting her lip, watching his face so close to hers, so sweet and caring.

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