Scorned [ONC 2024]

Chapter Seven

"Lily," Paul said, stepping into the kitchen as I lifted the spoonful of porridge up to my mouth. "Lord Turner wants to see you after you've eaten."

I frowned, the spoon hanging in the air. "Did he say why?"

"No, but you should hurry up. The fact that he was already awake is worrying enough, though, with the added strain of the imminent visit, it's hardly surprising."

"Why would he want to see you?" Mrs Folkestone asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know."

I dropped the spoon back into the bowl, my appetite disappearing and dread setting into the pit of my stomach. Martha looked at me, and she wasn't the only one. Everyone in the servant's hall stared at me with questioning glances. It was always the same when someone was summoned to Lord Turner. If I hadn't been the talk of the servant's hall before, it was about to get a whole lot worse.

Lord Turner wasn't in the habit of summoning people for no reason. From my limited experience working for the family, few people came out of his office with their jobs intact.

"I told you people were talking about how many times you and Mr Turner were seen together," Martha said. She gave me a pointed look, tearing a strip off her toast.

"Leave her alone, Martha," Bertie said. "It's probably nothing."

Bertie offered me a small, reassuring smile, which I did my best to reply, but with my heart hammering away in my chest, it was hard to feel that my meeting with Lord Turner could go any way other than sideways. All three of my meetings with Mr Turner had been either accidental or the fault of working in the same household. That was it.

I wasn't sure how that could be read as anything other than me doing my job.

With my breakfast half eaten, I left the kitchen. I could feel everyone looking at me rather than at their plates or bowls. My heart thumped against my chest as I made my way up the servant's staircase to the second floor. The letter from Miss Oleson, that I had yet to pass onto Mr Turner, weighed heavy in my pocket.

My footsteps echoed down the silent hallway, and I was sure my heartbeat could be heard by one nearby. I stopped outside the door to Lord Turner's study, took a deep breath, and rapped my knuckles against the wood of the door.

"Enter," Lord Turner said.

My hands trembled a little as I twisted the door handle and stepped into the room, somewhat glad I'd barely eaten anything before my summoning. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, Miss Rhodes, come in. Please close the door behind you."

I stepped into the room, closing the door. Lord Turner watched me with his hands clasped together on the desk in front of him. Several small stacks of paper covered the desk in neat, orderly files, along with inkwells and pens that had all been lined up. Lord Turner watched me with a small furrow in his eyebrows as I stood in the centre of the room, making no attempt to sit at the wooden chair opposite the desk.

"You have been doing a lot of chores in the west wing. Is that correct, Miss Rhodes?" he asked, staring at me. I wondered if the floor might open up and swallow me whole.

"Yes, sir."

"Why? You can be honest with me about your reasoning. No one shall get into trouble."

"No one else wanted to do it, sir. They didn't want to end up on the wrong side of Mr Turner."

"That is a fair assessment. You were not working with us when my son was here last, were you? At least that is what I have been informed."

"No, sir. I started working here a few months ago."

Lord Turner nodded, scratching his chin. I didn't quite understand why I had been summoned to discuss my reasoning for working in the west wing. Someone had to do it, and Lord Turner should have known the staff's reluctance of wanting to work for his son. I still didn't quite understand why, but I was not about to say that to Lord Turner.

"The burn on the back of your hand." He gestured to the blister visible on the back of my hand. "Were you telling me the truth the other day? About how you got it?"

"Yes, sir. It was an accident. Mr Turner helped me out with it."

"Jacob has explained to me that the incident in the servant stairwell on his first back was an issue of his making. Correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"How often do you communicate with Jacob when completing your chores?"

I swallowed the bile building in my throat, wondering just how far the rumours had grown for him to ask. "Very rarely, sir. I do the work that is expected of me."

"I am not accusing you of anything, Miss Rhodes, but my son has a tendency to get a little too comfortable with the servants. We have had previous experiences in the past of having to dismiss the maids because they fall for his tricks. You seem to be a diligent, hard-working employee and I would hate for you to succumb to his whims."

"I understand, sir. I'm just here to do my work, nothing more, nothing less."

He leaned back in his chair a little, placing his hands flat out against the paper. My heartbeat slowed in my chest and I tried to forget about the letter still sitting in my apron pocket. So long as that remained a secret, I hoped my job would be too. Mr Turner had a reason for keeping his correspondence with Miss Oleson a secret and I didn't want to see what would happen if Lord Turner found out about it, or that I was involved.

"As you know, Miss Margaret Bolton and her family will be staying with us and I would like for you to be available to her if need be. You are a hard worker, Miss Rhodes, and that shall work in your favour. It should not affect the rest of your work."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you. You are free to leave, Miss Rhodes."

I nodded my head and quickly left Lord Turner's office as fast as I could. Outside, I pressed my back against the wall and took a deep breath to calm the few nerves that had remained. At least I wasn't being dismissed. 

~~~

First Published - February 27th, 2024