Griselda Rella by Lee Renwick Steele

Author:Lee Renwick Steele [Steele, Lee Renwick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cinderella; fairies; fantasy; fairy tale; medieval; Cinderella reimagined
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2022-11-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Plundering Rella Manor

Unfortunately, after consulting with other advisors, it was clear that Mr. Dankman was right, and Cynthia’s furious lack of acceptance could not change the sad facts. So with the certainty that the finery of Rella Manor would need to be sold to pay off Lord Robert’s debts, Mother shook off her grief, at least outwardly, and shouldered the burden of household manager. With promises of payment as soon as possible, the remaining manor staff members were dismissed. Two Rella servants, Hannah and Rebecca, chose to stay in spite of the uncertainty of payment. Sarah, really more family than servant, stayed, too, though she grumbled about maintaining the vast manor, a sentiment I shared.

We faced doing chores ourselves or going without them being done. In addition, we were tasked with cataloging the valuables throughout the manor for Mr. Dankman’s perusal. While Cynthia remained cloistered in her bedchamber, which was understandable, but worried us all, Isabella and I, carrying ink, quills, and writing paper, followed Mother outside to list all the animals, carriages, and equipment in the outbuildings. Then we returned to the manor and paraded from room to room on the main floor listing the books, furniture, musical instruments, artwork, fancy rugs, and tableware. Finally, we trooped across the white and black marble tiled floor in the chilly great hall, its ashy fireplaces unlit, as Mother inspected each statue, tapestry, and finally the fresco.

Mother scrutinized the faded artwork. “Griselda, I suppose for the record we should list the fresco. It is of great value even though there is no way to remove it from the wall.”

I scratched away with a quill on a paper supported by a book resting on my arm. The quill became dry, and I reached out to Isabella, who held the inkbottle, and noticed her squinting at the fresco, her eyes moving as if she followed some activity.

I cleared my throat. “Izzy.”

Isabella blinked, noticed my dry quill, and held out the inkbottle. I raised my eyebrows with concern, wondering if she was feeling ill, dipped my quill in the ink, and finished recording the fresco.

Mother looked at my list and sighed. “At least we have finished cataloging the valuables on this floor. Next, we will begin upstairs where gowns and other clothing items must be added as well.”

Isabella now mirrored our mother’s sigh and rubbed her temples, confirming my suspicion about a headache.

Mother looked up from the parchment. “Isabella, dear, perhaps this is too much for you. Would you care to retire for a time before dinner?”

Isabella had been keeping pace as well as she could, but I knew how hard it was for her to prevent the headaches that had started soon after Father’s death—along with her emotional distance from me.

Though her eyes were glazed with pain, she still looked determined. “I wish to be of assistance to you and Grizzy.”

Mother gave me a conspiratorial glance. “You have been a great help, my dear, but Griselda and I can continue for now.”

I joined in with Mother’s plan.

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