Dedicated to @gingerbread250
#
8 | THE APPALLED ADJUSTMENT.
~~~
EMMA ROLLED AWAY FROM the harsh yellow daylight that seeped into her eyes through the cracks of her curly lashes and groaned when she heard a discomfited shuffling around the room.
She tried to ignore the paroxysm of indignation that sizzled in her veins for her tempered rest as she burrowed deeply under her warm duvet, but likewise, the shuffling persisted until she heard a loud, thump sound against the floorboard, and then a string of profanities issued by a muffled voice.
Emma snapped open the lids of her still drowsy and bloodshot eyes, and stared vaguely at the wooden canopy-ceiling of the double bed.
And when she heard the resumption of the discomfited shuffling, she sailed a glare to the culprit, only for her saliva-dry mouth to fall pendulously open at the sight of the intruder.
A tall, thin lass in a plain maid attire, beautiful mahogany brown hair haphazardly woven into a single, french braid, freckled cheeks against a tawny, broad face, and round honey-hued eyes that reminded Emma of Sussanne.
The girl which seemed hereabout her age or more, stared back aghastly at Emma who was now sitting up on the large bed, with her own eyes twice as wide as the lass's over her heavy curtain of loose, chestnut ringlets.
"Whoever are you?,' Emma grilled, warily eying the lass whom now seemed to be at the verge of passing out flat on the wooden floor.
" I-I...am Gladys, Miss, y-your lady maid,' the bashful looking, lass stammered timidly. ' I sincerely apology for disturbin' your rest. I tend to be frazzle and ineloquent whenever am behind schedule. I hope your aren't vexed with me."
Emma tucked her stubborn hair behind her ears and observed the girl who was cradling her pristinely folded old, church dresses in her thin arm. "Irritated, aye. But not irritated enough to be vexed with you.' she said sincerely.
The maid, Gladys, heaved a dramatic sigh of relief and lumbered across the room to where her armoire stood." Thank God. I had just finished fillin' your tub with hot water. You should go have a bathe whilst I select a daydress for you. Breakfast is in fifteen minutes.' she conveyed, stacking up the dresses in the railings.
" Oh,' Emma said, reluctantly unraveling the rest of her frame from the warm cocooning of the duvet, swung her stockings free legs over the edge of the bed, and rose.
She felt the winter chill on her bare toes as she traipsed towards were the toilette was. Whilst Gladys kept on shuffling bout the room, bunching up the shuttle drapes to let in the chilly, but refreshing morning ventilation, and the golden-yellow sun rays, Emma striped and soaked herself in the jasmine-scented stud, scalding hot water that sat in the old-fashioned tub.
With a clean, red skin and a damp hair, Emma sat in front of the vanity mirror and watched Gladys expertly and craftmanly twisted her untamed curls into a neat coiffure, and then assisted in into her sister's old blue cotton gown which Maggie had spent a week embroidering the sleeves and hems in a white-threaded flowery patterns.
Once Gladys was satisfied with her work, the lass guilded Emma through the sun-awash empty corridor and down the stairs to where the breakfast room ought to be.
Emma was beyond fascinated at how everything around her seemed to be spotless, prim and proper. The entire house wordlessly entailed wealth and success, and Emma was jittery with excitement to explore the area.
Muffles and dulcet tones could be heard in the corridor that led to the breakfast room, and when the arrived at the door, Gladys politely genuflected before hurrying down the empty, carpeted passage to the servant's quarter.
YOU ARE READING
The Misplaced
Historical FictionSHE was pinned bizarre because of her idiosyncrasies, and was unfairly prejudged throughout her life. But, he found her, and made a special place for her, engraved in the canvas of his heart and soul. •••••• As a daughter of a peasant coal miner, re...
