Leaving the Pirate (Book Three)

24. A New Beginning

My cue to go. I sighed and walked back into the dining room, only to be met with a hot meal smothered on the Mistress's gown and a laughing toddler pointing at his proud work. His mother, on the other hand, was close to hitting her child. I swooped in at the right time. 

"Don't worry, Ma'am. This all will be cleaned up," I said in reassurance, quick to grab a cloth and offer it to her. She snatched it from my hand and immediately began to dot at her dress.

"It better be! Christ! And I have tea later with the Lorenzos!"

I managed to find another towel and crouched down to the child's level, wiping away his face. Once again, he wouldn't sit still, but I held him down to prevent any other trouble from reoccurring. I glanced back at the lady who dropped the towel on the floor as if in disgust and called at the top of her lungs for the housemaids to assist her in getting changed. In no time, a pair of girls showed up, grabbing their Mistress by the elbows and gently leading her back to her room.

When she was gone, I sat the child back on his chair and continued to wipe him clean. I thought he might need another bath, but decided a quick wipe should be enough.

"Why on earth would you do that?" I asked in Italian, my tone, unintentionally urgent. His response was to look down at the floor and pout. I couldn't be quite sure if he was ashamed or not, but I didn't check to be sure. I picked him up and carried him into his room to be changed once more.

He refused to look at me the entire time, dodging my eyes as he held his hands up as I removed his shirt that was covered in red goo. We both were silent as I finished changing him and told him that while I carried his stuff to the laundry, he was to play quietly in his room. Still, there was no response from him.

As I gathered up his clothes and was about to walk out the door, I looked behind me at the neatly painted walls, the strong oak furnishing, and the lonely boy that seemed too small for it all. 

I closed the door behind me.

***

I didn't realize just how hot it was outside as I entered the courtyard where a few maids were doing the laundry. One was on her knees with her sleeves slid up to her elbows washing clothes in a metal basin while the other two were hanging clothes. When they saw me, they already understood what I had come there for.

The one on her knees got up and wiped the perspiration from her forehead. She was clearly tired. I walked over to her and explained in slow-spoken Italian what had happened. She had an older face than I had had, a woman in her early to mid-thirties, tired of her life's work. She had been some of the few that had stayed with the family for a long time. The other two, however, were new. They still had a doe-eyed look about them that I used to have when I first started here. Now, I found myself relating to the woman whom I gave the shirt.

She sucked in a breath before nodding and tossing the articles of clothing in the basin and getting back on her knees. I stared at her for a moment, looking closely at the bead of sweat that was rolling down her forehead once more, then at the two younger women. Though they were sweating, they still had an innocent look that made them appear pretty, looking fragile. 

In the courtyard, along with the women and I, there were a small group of men leaning against the ivy-covered walls, having a smoke.  One of which was Narciso who was the one talking at the moment. His arms were crossed and he used one hand to hold his smoke as he spoke, looking relaxed as he leaned again against a nearby pillar, the few places touched by shade.

He didn't seem to know I was there until I walked over to him. He smiled when he saw me, waving his hand to issue the others to give him and me some space. "Taking a break from the brat, are ya?" he said in a rich Italian accent. 

"If you can call it that," I said, "I was just delivering a dirty shirt. He spilled his lunch over the Mistress."

"That bitch can cry herself a river. He's only six."

"He's turning five."

"Same difference. Anyway, think you can sneak away tonight? I want to take you for a stroll. I haven't seen you around in a while."

"Not tonight. Remember, the Mistress and Master are leaving for tea later and usually don't get back until late. That means I have to stay up with Matteo."

Narciso scoffed. "Why do you keep calling them Mistress and Master? You don't have to call them that unless you're in their presence. They're just bitch and bastard to me."

I rolled my eyes and gave an amused smile, playing along. "I've just gotten used to it, I suppose. And you shouldn't call them that when they give you a paycheck every two weeks and allow you to live here."

"The paycheck is enough to barely feed a family of mice and as for living." His smile grew wider. He leaned down until his face was inches away from mine. "As for my living space, it's too bad I can't share a room with you." 

I playfully pushed him away and told him to get back to work. "I am working," he called back at me as I began to walk away. "I'm working to be the most soulless bastard in the world!"