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Chapter 8
Eloise sat up from the soft bed, feeling the warm sun on her face and the silk coverings against her skin. This wasn’t her room.
“Right,” she said out loud, “I’m still at the Castle.”
On a sidewall of the large guest room, right by the oak wardrobe and an empty bookcase, she noticed her clothes tightly folded atop a dresser beside a portmanteau. They were far too damp for her to wear, so another pair sat next to them, a cream dress she could put on for her trip back.
Memories of last night returned, and she winced. She had lied to the Duke about her name… It was born out of fear; fear that the ton would find out she stayed the night at the Cursed Rake’s Castle. Fear that the papers would gossip about her once more and fear that the Duke himself might recognize her from the very papers. It didn’t matter now, however. The deception that is. After today, she would never have to see him again.
Walking to the other side of the room and picking up her damp dress, she placed everything in a bundle, preparing for her departure.
“My Lady.” Fenella knocked on the door and stepped inside. “I’ll help you get dressed, you can break your fast downstairs. Cook has prepared some food for you.”
“Thank you, Fenella, you’re all far too kind.”
The young maid smiled warmly as she helped Eloise get undressed and prepared for her bath. She unfolded the creamy dress, preparing it by the bed, alongside a chemise and corset.
After Eloise was finished with her bath, Fenella helped her dry off. And once she was dressed, they strolled downstairs to an empty dining room. Empty because the Duke wasn’t present. She didn’t expect him to show up after the events of last night, but it would be nice if at least he displayed some proper etiquette in greeting his guests.
She took a seat on the right side of the hardwood table right by a large window. The aroma from the food was enough to make her drool. Although the usual bread and butter were present, there were also dishes she had only tasted a few times in her life; honey and plum cakes, seed cakes with a pinch of saffron, and some French desserts. It looked to be a breakfast prepared for a royal.
“Is this all for the Duke?” Eloise asked Fenella as she took a bite of the warm plum cake, the fruity filling melting in her mouth.
“Oh no, My Lady. It’s for you. His Grace suggested we make a large portion as he didn’t know what you would like.”
Eloise tilted her head at this. The sound of scraping caused her eyes to soon travel to the outside window, where a group of footmen, next to the Duke himself, were shoveling through some piling snow as best they could.
“They have been working all morning. It should be clear by early afternoon, and a carriage shall be prepared soon after,” a strange voice spoke out. It was an older woman, her gray hair tightly covered underneath her white bonnet, and her dress, loose and dark, to cover her body. It was hard to make out her face, but there were prevalent wrinkles betraying age and maturity. Despite her stern appearance, she held an aura of wisdom.
“I’m Miss Antonia, My Lady,” she continued, “the housekeeper. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“As am I.” Eloise smiled in return.
She turned her gaze outside once more, paying close attention to the Duke. A dark, thick coat covered his body, with a pair of tighter than usual trousers. His sturdy arms swung about in spirited eagerness as he instructed his footmen where and when to shovel next—he seemed more anxious to escape than she did. He turned in her direction, a smug smirk present on his face, and she quickly turned away.
“I’m aware you’re new, but I won’t allow for the rules to be broken, Fenella. You must not be opening doors in the Castle.” Eloise could overhear the distant scolding of the young maid from outside the door. “Things are complicated as they are with the butler gone. We don’t need more trouble.”
The scolding was momentarily replaced with quietness. Until the sound of creaking floorboards reached closer, and the door scraped open, revealing the sight of a faintly smiling Fenella. She appeared to be more nervous than before—if that was even possible. Holding a broom in her hands, she continued sweeping the furthest and darkest corners of the dining room in silence.
Eloise hadn’t the time to finish eating before she decided to stand up and make her way towards the maid. Even though she was to leave today, she felt guilty allowing Fenella to struggle with the Castle tasks alone. It wasn’t her business, really, and she shouldn’t intervene, but there was something that made her pity the poor girl, something that reminded her of herself. Evidently, she was also not fitting in.
“Lady Ellie?”
“Here, let me help you.” Eloise gently handled the broom in her hands, sweeping corners and beneath the furniture that were too hard to reach.
“I…you…Milady, please, there’s no need—”
“I insist. At my Aunt’s estate, I enjoyed helping out with tasks around the house. Please, allow me, I can tell it’s not easy,” she said.
Although hesitant at first, Fenella nodded reluctantly, not wanting to appear bad-mannered.
“How old are you?” she asked Fenella, continuing to mind the tasks at hand.
“Eighteen, Milady. I turned eighteen two weeks ago, a few days after, I arrived at the Castle.”
Once Eloise was satisfied with the sweeping, she placed the broom aside and turned to Fenella. Wiping her hands on her sleeves—careful not to stain them. She smiled kindly.
“Right, that’s that.” Eloise put the broom aside. “I can’t imagine working here so young, it must be quite tiresome.”
