The Maid and Her Mistress Ch. 01

Rosalind's solitude was a gift from her departed husband. Forced into marrying him at nineteen, she endured this philandering ignoramus until his sins caught up with him and caused his last malaise. She falsely mourned him and returned to their house, far from any village, and took his estate as her own.

Poisoning Philip was tempting until she realised he could succumb to a much slower death by way of his illness. She tended to him and called on a doctor to ease his pain, if nothing to shut him up and keep him from bellowing in the night. She allowed him drink she knew was worsening his condition, lying in secret to the physician Philip was abstaining from all vices. And she'd long since stopped sleeping by his side. Realising he couldn't have a child by her, well into their marriage no less, he'd all but discarded her, too apathetic to ask for a divorce. She suffered instead as his indentured servant so her spoils would one day reach her.

Now some years had passed, she was beginning to long for certain things she'd been denied. These weren't mere fancies like food and drink, easily obtained by her wealth. Her body was yet to grow too old and her desires were given space to breathe within. There were no gentleman callers after the funeral. She may have looked attractive to a lesser lord who could profit from her wealth. She was free to deny them as she was to choose.

Her dearest friend, Millicent, wrote to her more once Philip was gone, clued into Rosalind's state of mind. Rosalind eagerly invited Millicent to visit, her friend stating she was bringing someone with her for Rosalind to meet.

This stranger went nameless and genderless while Rosalind awaited their arrival. The journey from Millicent's city home to Rosalind's villa took the better part of two days, with little on the road between. Rosalind was planning and hoping they would stay with her a few nights at least; there was room for their carriage and driver. Accustomed to taking care of the house, she'd no need for any servants of her own. Washing and cleaning occupied her idle hands and mind, though some chores were harder to manage on her own.

The morning her guests arrived, Rosalind fussed over Millicent, embracing her once she was heading up the path to the front door. In her wake was a timid, plainly dressed girl, her hair hidden by a white bonnet. She curtsied for Rosalind as Millicent introduced her.

"This is Isabelle. I've brought her here for a particular reason I didn't want to put in writing."

Rosalind brought them in, their driver responsible for their belongings.

"The place is much too big for me," Rosalind said, leading them through to her lounge where the sunlight was the strongest.

Assured they were both comfortable, she returned with tea and slices of cake, Rosalind spending the whole day prior preparing food.

"You seem in good spirits," Millicent remarked.

Isabelle seemed uncomfortable being served by Rosalind. Millicent also possessed a certain lavish style, to see Isabelle dressed so drably left Rosalind curious.

Once Millicent had given Rosalind the most recent news, she turned to the matter of Isabelle.

"I've brought her here in the hope you would be willing to take her in," Millicent said frankly. "I am planning to spend my last days on my family estate outside Dublin, and I would rather Isabelle stay behind with you."

Isabelle remained reticent when Rosalind regarded her. "May I ask why?"

"She's the daughter of my eldest maid, Olive. There was an incident involving Olive and another man my family wished to keep secret, and I've kept Isabelle with me as a servant out of respect for Olive, who died during Isabelle's birth. I couldn't masquerade her as a daughter or even a niece, though I'd have preferred to, my horrid husband insisted we make use of her. Now I have a chance to give her a new home, and while I'm aware of the imposition, I'm at a loss for another solution."

Isabelle quietly sipped her tea and averted her eyes from Rosalind.

"She's terribly shy," Millicent said. "It would have been unfair of me to marry her off as I was told to do. I have told a tremendous lie to Fredrick and my family that she's come with me so I can give her to another wealthy home."

"I'd be happy to have her," Rosalind replied. "Whether she wishes to tend to the house is up to her."

Isabelle's bright blue eyes sparkled at Rosalind in surprise. "I would have that choice?"

Millicent chuckled at this. "Rosalind is much kinder than even me, my dear. I've always adored her for her liberal attitude to others."

Rosalind remained as humble as possible. "Well, you are both my guests for today at least. How long did you intend to stay, Millicent?"

"Sadly, it will only be a night here for me. We have booked passage for a week's time and I need to return to the city tomorrow morning."

As Rosalind reached for the empty tray, Isabelle intervened and offered to give them some time to themselves.

"I will find the kitchen," she said quickly.

Millicent interjected as Rosalind went to disagree with Isabelle. "Let her do as she wishes."

Rosalind was as obedient as Isabelle, the two of them sharing another lingering moment, Isabelle's smile faint and quick to vanish before she left the room.

"She should get used to the place, don't you think?" Millicent offered.

"I suppose she must. I'd rather show her around."

"You've nothing to hide from me or her, surely."

All Rosalind's secrets were in her heart and mind. She never hid anything from Philip but her own bitter resentment towards him. His grave was further out on the estate, the plot otherwise empty as the family he'd demanded of Rosalind failed to come to fruition. Philip's family were mostly dead or already in distant lands, some of them completely unaware of her at all.

"You must be plagued by many useless thoughts being on your own out here," Millicent opined, putting her cup aside.

Rosalind took in her friend's countenance and composure, seeing more wispy greys in Millicent's otherwise dark hair. She was several years older than Rosalind, a woman of leisure and good stead within the city. Philip brought Rosalind from a meagre lifestyle straight into opulence, demanding she dress more stately and manage her appearance to his satisfaction. She met Millicent during her first ball, them fast becoming friends for their disdain of those more arrogant around them.

"You know me well enough. Philip may have driven me mad with his complaining but he did give me some purpose."

"I thought you might return to your painting, since he insisted on denying you your pleasures."

"I haven't found the inspiration."

"Isabelle is well educated, I saw to that as best I could. She'll make use of your books and thrive here in the country. She's so slight and pale from being stuck inside, and she rarely went into the city on errands."

Rosalind dropped her voice. "What was this secret you were forced to keep? I think I have some right to know."

Millicent gathered her thoughts with her hands in her lap, the sheen of her blue satin dress paling her skin.

"Olive was a good woman and she never disobeyed anyone. A foul associate of Fredrick took too much of a liking to her, and managed to hide her in the yard during a party one night, where he obscenely took of her body. She came to me in hysterics, and I concealed the act so she couldn't be cast out. Soon as she was with child, I did more to cover this up so she could have a place to stay. I should have taken steps to give Isabelle to an orphanage, but Olive's plight meant too much to me. And I loved the baby girl as soon as she was born. The only way I was allowed to raise her in the house was if she was put to work the minute she could. This was Fredrick's order. Olive was buried in a pauper's grave, and Isabelle was an innocent in all this, I could not live with myself thinking of her in some hovel. The city orphanage is run on a pittance to this day."

"Fredrick still must have despised you for covering for Olive."

"Oh, he did. But I hardly cared, we've been more acrimonious now he's getting older and more combative. I want to move to Ireland now my days are getting fewer, before the journey gets too much for me."

"I am sorry I won't be able to see you again. I should take my wealth and see the world, yet I am far too afraid to go alone."

"Well, you won't be alone now. And Isabelle has seen so little, herself. Perhaps you can both go."

Rosalind understood Isabelle was to be a companion and not family. "I fear she may be too shy to be of company."

"A quiet companion can still offer solace. Under my roof, she was kept quiet, when I know there is a liveliness within that needs release. I sensed her mother's tempestuousness and passion, even without Olive's influence, her spirit was there in Isabelle. It would warm me to know she now has freedoms here I cannot give her."

"But what can I possibly offer her?" Rosalind countered. "How old is she now?"

"She's past twenty, well beyond what Fredrick thought was ideal; he'd have married her off at fourteen and that was another thing I had to shield her from. Both she and Olive needed protecting, and I wasn't going to force a husband on either of them, not how we were forced to marry. Unless she's absolutely willing to be courted, she will remain safe here, and she'll have a chance to be healthy and strong."

"You thought of her and Olive as your own."

"I did. I try not to mourn the little girl I lost so early, yet I do. As we were both such failures in our husbands' eyes since we didn't give them sons, I can atone through my acts now. In truth, I was waiting for Philip to pass before I brought Isabelle here. I know he'd have harmed her, given any chance, and asking you to protect her was too much."

Whatever efforts Rosalind made, she was sure Philip would still sneak behind her back and mistreat Isabelle. And to have the poor girl here tending to him in his frailty would have been as mean. Rosalind accepted her duties, irreligious but made to behave as a pious wife.

Tired from the journey, Millicent excused herself, Rosalind showing her to the downstairs bedroom where she was to sleep. Rosalind then went in search of Isabelle, finding her in Philip's reading room, examining the many books he owned and never read.

Isabelle faltered when she was seen. "Pardon me, Miss Rosalind. I should have asked to come in here."

"There is no need to ask much. I have been rude to not show you around."

"Is Miss Millicent resting?"

"She is."

Rosalind took Philip's old velvet chair, gesturing for Isabelle to sit across from her so they could speak.

"Millicent has explained your predicament and why she was unable to tell me sooner."

"I hope I am not intruding. You have a lovely home, Miss Rosalind. I would be very lucky to stay here. The master of my house detested my presence."

Rosalind was too familiar with Fredrick, he and Philip close for the sake of fortune more than friendship. She was united with Millicent in their struggles as harassed housewives, Philip once jesting rather crudely that Millicent was artful in her conduct with men and could teach Rosalind a lesson or two. Millicent was forthcoming with her stories, in particular her exploits as an unmarried girl living with her aunt. Rosalind listened with such envy, and remorse for having given up her body to an unappreciative cad like Philip.

"I am sorry you suffered Fredrick as you did," Rosalind said. "My husband was much the same, and I'm glad to be rid of him, I won't deny it."

"Master Fredrick put such terror into me, and said disparaging things of my mother. It wasn't fair what my father did."

"Then you know as much?"

"Miss Millicent told me," she replied. "She felt I had a right to know. So, I am relieved my father never knew of me."

"I would hope you could meet finer gentlemen than them. I'm sure I can arrange it."

Isabelle immediately shook her head. "I have no wish to, Miss Rosalind. If I can ask anything of you, it would be to keep me from marriage altogether. I don't want a child, either."

Her words resonated deep within Rosalind's heart. "You are like me. I wanted neither and was forced to suffer, regardless. It took so many years for us to discover I'm unable to have a child at all, by then my husband was galavanting around, bedding other women out of spite to me. I hoped he would divorce me, as he had every right since I was barren, but he held on to me knowing he could make a handmaid of me once he was bedridden."

"Why are men like this?" Isabelle asked. "I see no sense in it."

"They're told by their fathers they can take what they like and do as they wish, and we are part of that arrangement. Were I braver as a girl, I would have run away."

"As would I."

"Then you must want to see more than what I can show you here."

Isabelle glanced about herself, Rosalind charmed beyond her comprehension by the girl. Her rounded face and soft chin weren't so touched by age as Rosalind's, still she had a womanly figure. Time in the yard outside would give Isabelle a healthier glow, Rosalind now seeing the streaks of gold in her brown hair, which was pinned up carefully under her cap. Rosalind felt compelled to untie the cotton ribbon and let down Isabelle's locks so she could run her fingers through them. Though she was covered from head to toe, the gentle curves of Isabelle's neck and middle were visible.

Rosalind was suffused with a strange warmth and want to hold Isabelle in her arms.

"I like it here already," said Isabelle. "I've seen nothing of the countryside, or even the greenest trees. From upstairs, I could see the hills we passed on our way. Your home is very beautiful and full of sunlight. I couldn't imagine it without seeing it myself."

Millicent's house was dreary, Rosalind knew it well from her time there. All the tall windows were covered with heavy curtains. Every door was difficult to open, the stench of coal hung in the air and the streets outside would often stink. Rich as Fredrick was, it wasn't the most handsome of houses in the city.

"Then I'd be happy to have you stay for as long as you like. As soon as you tire of me, you must say so. I won't keep you against your will."

"Thank you, Miss Rosalind."

"You needn't address me as such."

"Miss Millicent will insist I do."

"Then we'll wait for her to leave first."

The driver was told to find the carriage house, a room upstairs for him to use. Rosalind thought of keeping horses but hadn't the will to employ anyone for their care. She loved to ride as a girl but lost the desire, like most of her passions, it dried up and went ignored. There was one room in the house she wanted to make her studio, the light was perfect and she could make space for an easel and a table to prepare her colours.

Rosalind took Isabelle to the smaller bedroom at the front of the house. The cupboard was full of dresses Rosalind had no reason to wear, and she offered to make room for Isabelle's things.

"I haven't much as it is."

Rosalind found one of her dresses and held it up to Isabelle. "This would likely fit you. Help yourself to anything you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. This is your room now and I want you to make use of anything I've ignored. It would make me happy."

"I didn't expect you to be so kind to me," Isabelle said softly. "Miss Millicent spoke highly of you, but I thought you may not be so warm to someone like me."

"Why not? How you came to be with Millicent means less to me than who you are, and if she sees you as kind and deserving of respect, why shouldn't I?"

Isabelle made a surer smile, Rosalind detecting something of a girlish blush in her cheeks.

Spending the evening with a dear friend unwound so many of Rosalind's tensions. She served Millicent wine, Isabelle declining despite her former mistress's insistence.

"We were suffocated by those tyrants," Millicent declared, the lush in her coming out and delighting Rosalind. "If only Fredrick would finally fall off his perch. Or perhaps he could get lost at sea."

Rosalind loved Millicent's acerbic wit. "How many hours did we jest about disposing of them? It was fun to be left to our own devices."

"I do love it here, now I've returned," Millicent sighed.

"Why don't you stay longer?" Rosalind asked.

"If only I could. But I have my plans, and I do miss the family home. I've been longing for our old estate for years."

"I have come to love this home now it's solely mine. I should start ordering in some art, or some new curtains."

"Isabelle's made some lovely patchwork quilts. She's brought one she's been working on for years."

"Well, I'll be sure to give you time to work on it," Rosalind told her, tickled from the wine.

Isabelle was wearing one of the dresses from Rosalind's closet, her hair still pinned up, the cap put away. Now her bodice was tighter and her neckline lower, the flush in her neck and chest seemed brighter.

"I shan't be lazy or wasteful of my hours. I'm sure you've plenty for me to remain busy."

Rosalind later accepted Isabelle was tired and wished to retire to bed. Millicent had slept a few hours, now wide awake and insisting she and Rosalind share a bottle of sherry and while away the evening.

"She's far less timorous now," Millicent said of Isabelle. "I'm hoping she'll be more confident with you."

"She already asked me not to find someone for her. I'm sure you were already aware."

"And I knew you'd respect this more than some stuffy lord or lady. This is her best chance to come into her own. She was close with my other maid, Penelope. I thought maybe separating them might not be for the best, but Isabelle deserves a nicer life than I can offer her now. Penelope will be coming with us."

Rosalind savoured the sherry on her tongue. "Remember how Philip would goad us both whenever we were together? His drunken ramblings were so unbecoming."

"Oh, his nefarious tastes were being catered to elsewhere. It would've been beneath us both to entertain him."

"Won't you miss all that in Ireland?"

"I'm too old," Millicent laughed. "You've still some years in you that should not go to waste, my love. Be bold and drink deep. Don't harbour regrets as I've done."

There was always an unspoken desire in Rosalind to know Millicent better, their stations dictating otherwise, a scandal not worth pursuing. But still, Millicent had taken her chances when they'd presented themselves. And it was Rosalind's turn to do the same.

Once Millicent was in bed, Rosalind went about turning down the lanterns. As she was passing Isabelle's door, she heard a high-pitched gasp that gave her pause. In the pure quiet, she heard it again, sudden and sharp, making her heart race. What sounded like a moan made Rosalind almost reach for the door handle with the thought Isabelle was having a bad dream. But she backed away, knowing better.

She sat up in bed for some hours, her mind rushing through more thoughts she was so used to pushing away. Isabelle's radiance was such a distraction, Rosalind chastened but desirous when she considered her guest in a light that was forbidden.