Wilhelmina A Novella by Ronnell D. Porter

Author:Ronnell D. Porter
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-06-10T16:00:00+00:00

7. The Seventh Day

I ate breakfast with a newfound sense of pep - and coyness. Every time I glanced Thomasine's way she would give me this look- as if she knew things that I didn't want her to... And if she didn't before, she would once she saw my scarlet blush. I wasn’t sure if she’d heard anything from this morning's episode, and Charles wasn’t exactly being bashful while in the throes of passion. I wasn’t even sure if I’d been quiet myself, before the screams of confusion, that is.

‘Lovely morning,’ I commented, studying her reaction.

‘Warm,’ was all she gave me in return.

‘Looks to be a clear sky, doesn’t it?’

‘Mmm,’ she agreed.

I put down my fork and stared at the table cloth beneath my fingertips. I couldn't keep the pretenses up any longer.

‘Thomasine, today is my last day here,’ I said.

She didn't react at all.

‘Please, don’t be so distant - not today of all days.’

She stared ahead of her with her lips pressed firmly together. Thomasine knew. She knew what was going to happen to me, and why I was leaving. Oh, she knew - she had to know. She'd worked for the governess for too many years not to; I'd only been Elizabeth Bathory's slave for four years and I'd known in half that time. But I remembered just how I was when I was in her shoes only a handful of days ago; don’t ask questions and you’ll live.

How could I blame her when I did the same?

I decided that Thomasine was a lost cause and I gave up. It left a tart, metallic taste in my mouth - the taste of regret. If it made her feel better not to get involved, even after we'd proclaimed ourselves family after all the years we'd been together, then I could respect her needs and sever ties with grace.

I spent the afternoon in the garden, absorbing the sun and its warmth. Standing there brought back the very recent memory of Yvette's attempt to murder me - and the horrific sensations attached to them.

But Charles came to my rescue in mere moments when I'd needed him.

I wondered how often he was near; did he ever leave? Perhaps he was staying here in the mansion. If he slept during the day then I would be alone out here, but if he watched from the shadows, then…

‘Charles?’ I called, looking around. The trees rustled, and the flowers trembled in the breeze. Birds flitted and chirped from branch to branch, leaves rustled, and the wind glided across the tranquil grass, but there was no one else here except the cold face of the governess up in her tower, staring down at me.

It was the first time I’d seen her in a week’s time, and I stared back, wondering what could possibly be going through that cold, unfeeling mind of hers.

I turned away, preferring the company of bright daffodils, passionate gold and fiery red lilies, and seashore mallows. My eyes noticed the legs standing amongs them.

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