The Wings of the Truly Beautiful

six.

The week passed without any fanfare.

Winifred went on with her dishwashing and food preparations and Lord Blackheart went on with the affairs of his business and his heart. For every time he had a meal at the house he thought of Winifred and whether or not she had cooked. And every time he thought about Winfred he chastised himself and promised not to do it again. A promise he found himself making very frequently. 

He had not been back downstairs since she made him hot chocolate and he told her that this was her home. But that didn't mean he didn't contemplate it at times. He found that he enjoyed her conversation, although they had not talked much, he found her voice to be calming. Her whole presence seemed to be that way as if you could breathe around her and not worry that she might react. From what he saw of her, she was the type of person one could breathe with. And it made no sense to him because given what he knew of her background, her life had been very hard and unforgiving. He knew many a person who, given those same circumstances, would have turned bitter and cold to the world. But she seemed to mellow. And it made him just want to know her more.

He wasn't sure what to do with his feelings. He had never had this sort of emotion towards a woman before. He had never been interested in wooing a maiden just for the sake of a kiss. And while he had visited a brothel before, it was more because of the pressure from his friends than from his own desire to partake in their services. He never slept with anyone. He supposed he saw beauty in a different way. Thanks to his upbringing, he understood at an early age that physical attractiveness could cover the worst sort of people. He was determined not to live like that.

Winifred, on the other hand, was all worry. All week now she had been on edge and Ms. Pemberly was beginning to see that something was wrong. Winifred's cooking, while it should have served as a welcome distraction, only made her more anxious. She sometimes skipped steps that were rather important, such as making sure the bread had yeast in it before popping it in the oven. Or putting an ungodly amount of sugar in the muffins she made for the staff. The footmen were still talking about it. The week was not going well, and it was only Wednesday.

Ms. Pemberly could see that she was acting strange and had asked her outright what was wrong when Winifred put sugar in the soup instead of salt. But Winifred's only refrain was nothing. She answered "nothing" when she broke a glass for the third time on Tuesday. She answered "nothing" when instead of watching the pot of stew she almost let it burn. She tried, she really tried to stay focused on her tasks and pay attention to what she was doing. But she frequently found herself doing things she did not remember starting. Like stirring a pot of soup without ever remembering putting the ingredients in. Or cutting the meat to be cooked but never knowing how she came to be holding the knife. Ms. Pemberly knew she was lying but didn't seem to want to force an answer out of her. She was grateful for that. But that all came to a head on Wednesday. When she made the biggest blunder of all.

And that, my dear readers, is where I saw another opportunity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had only been three days, but Winifred was still a bundle of nerves for reasons that she could not explain. She knew that whatever was going to happen was going to happen, she knew that worrying would not make it better, or even speed up the process, but she could not help it that Lady Blackhearts decision was the only thing she could think about. She tried so hard, but she always found herself riveted upon that one thought. It was a Wednesday that could not seem to even get started much less end. It was only nine o'clock and she felt like she had lived through a whole day already. She was jolted out of her thoughts by the sound of Ms. Pemberly's voice.

"Winifred, could you make the soup for luncheon today? Matilda's down with a cold and I cannot have her coughing like that in the kitchen. Next thing you know we are all sick and starving for a week."