Dedicated to @Leeleekez
#
5 | THE TERRIBLE MISCONCEPTION
11th October, 1905.
~~~
IT'S BEEN A MONTH SINCE the morose and agonizing departure of Mr. Barnes, and two weeks since Emma gained employment into the bourgeois household of the Lowes.
It took a lot of chutzpah for her mother to try and persuade her mistress, Mrs. Lowe, to hire Emma as a maid in the three-storey house. And after a week of the proffered proposal, Emma was fortunately hired.
Emma was cock-a-hoop about her new employment at the Lowe's home, though the work was tedious, and demanded great competency and punctuality. The Lowes had been quite amicable towards her, albeit the young master, Mr. David, a gentleman four years Richard's senior, has been throwing amorous advances at her whenever he got the chance to, which was quite upsettling.
Emma had once broached on the subject to her mother, but her mother had quickly dismissed the subject with a grunt and a jerky wave of her hand, and she had grown never to grouse about it, and tried to be invincible as possible.
It was a fine autumn morning, and Emma was trekking back from the mercantile whence she had been sent by Mrs. Grey, the housekeeper, to purchase some food items for the Lowe's luncheon, and after which she had dropped by at Mrs. Corbett's boutique for a brief chin-wagging with Maggie, and to sneak glances at Mr. Patrick from across the bustling street whilst he work.
Mr. Patrick had progressed from being Maggie's surreptitious crush to her lover, for both of them were now in a clandestine affair, and are very assiduous in it. Emma didn't query or reprimand, for both were nothing but adults and were old enough to make choices. But he was very sweet towards her sister and she liked him for that.
The heels of her boots scraped at a steady unhurried pace across the pavement, and Emma tugged at her tweed coat, for it was quite chilly and blustery.
The frill and fussy lace bib apron affixed over her light print and plainly made gown jiggled from the vibration of her humming, and her woebegone ringlets that escaped from her white cap, tickled against her cheekbones and behind her slender neck as the bitter wind swept northwards, and ruffled at the fallen auburn leaves of spare trees on the grubby ground at midair.
The street to the Lowes home was quite modernized, and the settlement were of marble buildings and verdant gardens.
The three-storey, modishly designed house of the Lowes emerged into Emma's periphery vision, and her pace quickened. She loathed whenever the Lowe's butler, Mr. Hood, chastises her for her frivolity, cause the old fellow was always by the sitting room's bay window, armed with the discarded copies of Mr. Lowe's special newspaper, THE TIMES, and would sometimes spy at her specially when she was being lackadaisical.
With a sigh of exhaustion, Emma made a bee line around from the unlatched wrought-iron gate that led to the shining white doorstep and with the double doors modelling a well-polished brass door handle, towards the graveled courtyard to the servants entrance.
Quite a handful of chickens were wandering around by the stableyard grubbing the ground for worms as Emma led herself into the house. Mrs. Grey, a middle-aged, plump lady with no very outstanding characteristics, very plain, with charcoal hair hidden beneath a white cap and a steady pewter hued eyes was furiously chopping at some vegetables when she marched into the fairly wide kitchen with a basket of delivery.
"Ye took yer bloody time, lass,' she grumbled, eying her in a suspicious appraisal.
Emma puff out a breath and smiled, " had to enjoy the luxury whilst it lasted, ma'am," she said, settling the basket on the table and inhaling at the yeasty smell of bread baking in the Aga oven that pervaded the room.
Mrs. Grey whistled, " Me loss, quite t' a'vantage of bein' you'g."
" I suppose,' said Emma, propping a hand on her hip as she watched the lady chop-chop chopping doggedly on the bell peppers.
And when a bell jingled merrily overhead, Emma and Mrs. Grey shared a knowing look.
" I reckon that's for me.' Emma lamented, navigating her way to the kitchen door, ' don't forget to spare me one of those bread rolls,'
And Mrs. Greg rolled her eyes heavenward with a shake of her head.
Emma quickly scrambled off through the narrow dim passageway of the servants quarters and winded a spiral stairs up to the second floor of Mr. David's chamber, whom had issued the summon.
The parquet, long corridor that led to Mr. David's chamber was wide and brightened by the rays of sunlight that streamed in through the bunched up crimson drapes of the sparkling clean, arched windows, but however, it was eerily deserted.
A jolt of dread sizzled through Emma's veins as her feet treaded in the same pace as the long, red pendulum that ticked off the seconds, moving in it's staccato sweep across the bottom half of the grandfather's clock down the corridor.
She wracked her clenched knuckle against the rosewood door of Mr. David's chamber, and aggressively attacked at the bottom of her lips as she waited patiently for approval.
"Come in,' came a throaty voice that sent Emma's hands bunching into the fabric of her dress. She sighed heavily, and her breath blew out in foggy clouds.
Squaring her chest, she pushed open at the door and traipsed into the dim room. The chamber was fairly sheer in size, with a canopied bed that had a dark wood frame, contrasting nicely with the dark and grey motif of the room.
Sunlight threw bars of light and shadow across the dark green carpet up to the edge of the bed from the slightly drawn luxurious drapes. Emma found Mr. David basking by the smouldering fire in the marble fireplace, with a pitcher half-filled with amber liquid in one hand whilst taking quick pulls on his pipe.
Bile churned in Emma's stomach as she watched gray, fluffy plume of cigar smoke, jiggling towards the ceiling, and gathering above him.
Coughing and fanning at the bitter tobacco smell from her nostrils, Emma ventured warily further into the room.
Mr. David was a big man. A perfect picture of a gentleman, quite tall in height, wasn't necessarily termed beautiful nor ugly, and had a furious dissipation in the dark depth of his eyes.
He was lolled on a chintz patterned sofa, cladded in a cravat free white cotton button-up shirt with frilly sleeves, and a tawny-coloured pants.
He had been staring at the dancing orange and yellow flames in the grate, but when Emma made her presence known, he shrank back on the sofa and observed her greasily.
" Ah, Ms. Emma, I wasn't quite expecting your presence. I had thought it would've be Ms. Phoebe.' said Mr. David, with a gallant smile on his thick lips. Ms. Phoebe was also a maid in the household, a young lass of one and five, handsome in a rather leonine way, very polite and had a beautiful shade of bright blue eyes, and copper ringlets.
Emma pulled a tiny smile on her lips, " Ay, but Ms. Phoebe is indisposed at the moment, sir.' she said, shifting uneasily on the ball of her feet as she watched Mr. David swiftly heaved from the sofa.
" Oh.' he said, abandoning his pipe on the big copper ashtray and his pitcher on the coffee table, before turning to ogle his dark eyes at her from across the room. " But, might you know whence my mother's at?,'
Emma bit on the inside of her mouth and squirmed back when she noticed Mr. David taking slow measured steps towards her. However, she swallowed hard against her suddenly dry throat and said. " She's having tea with a caller in the drawing room, sir.'
" David, Ms. Emma, David.' and Emma gasped in shock, as he had taken quick strides towards her, and had brazenly snatched at her arm.
Her body froze in trepidation, and her stomach clenched in dread as Mr. David's gaze lewdly roved at her figure, lingering much longer at the bossom. Emma inwardly issued a bowl of expletives, for her tweed coat was now hanging on the peg in the scullery door, and now she felt completely exposed in the thin fabric of her gown.
"Well, aren't you going to say my name?' Mr. David asked, looking down at her with sardonic amusement.
Emma scrupulously recoiled from his clutch with her heart beating erratically in her chest as she grappled for words.
"Well...,' he asked again, arching a thick, dark brow.
"I...,' she stammered, her vocal cords unprepared for speech. And when Mr. David's brow rose higher, she sourly spilt his name from her lips, ' David.'
" Very well, Ms. Emma, very well,' he said, smiling disarmingly at her, ' however,' he began, a salacious glint returning to his eyes, and Emma squirm once more from his scheming eyes that traversed her frame, again, lingering shamelessly at her bossom over the light fabrics.
" Since you're here, could you do me a favor.' he said, with a snide smirk pulled lopsidedly.
Emma narrowed her gaze up at him suspiciously, " a favor you say?,' and when he nodded languidly, his eyes daring for her to refuse, she jutted out her chin in an act of indifference and straightened her spine. " Of course, sir, whatever is it?'
And she suddenly regretted agreeing, cause it was then that Mr. David groped at her upper arm, dragged her coercively against the hard planes of his torso, and slammed his lips roughly against hers.
A gasp choked in her throat, her eyes went wide in alarm, and she shivered in fear.
Mr. David didn't relent, for as his mouth roughly and desperately attacked Emma's, his large calloused hands painfully captured at her breast.
Emma cried out with the shock of the pain and wrestled from his grip. And when he was still unrelenting, she gnashed her teeth against his mouth.
Mr. David cussed angrily and clouted her hard across the face, sending her tumbling down to the floor. " You wrench!,' he spat raggedly, spitting blood from him mouth to the floor.
Emma gasped at the pain that caused her head to lull to her side, her hand soothing against the welting cheek, as salty tears hastily clouded her vision, and sliced at her cheeks.
"How dare you!,' Mr. David growled, with a dark edge layering his tone as his eyes turned to stilts.
Emma cowered, petrified, whilst sucking in a staggered breath, " p-please, sir...,' she begged. But, Mr. David laughed raucously, throwing a condensing glare down at her.
"Please?,' he hissed, through gritted teeth as his claws contemptuously gripped at her chin. ' you don't have to beg, you bitch!. I thought you were nicer, more docile,' - he scoffed- ' but you're nothing but an untamed brat!,"
Emma reeled back at the menacing tone of his voice, her traitorous body quivering with fear as bile crest within her throat at the putrid stench of booze whisked with the smell of cigar that emanated from his breath.
"Am..am so sorry, sir, please.' Emma stuttered, her glassy eyes wide, as she squirm in fright at her opponent's vexed, towering form. She let out a bowl of pain when Mr. David aggressively tugged at her braided hair through her cap. "Please, sir, pl-please,'
Mr. David hunkered down briefly in front of her, a sinister look in his eyes, " you ought to beg, Emma, beg!,' he said, dastardly, sending a wave of panic to crest in her. " Perhaps even more than just beseeching, cause I'm going to make sure that you regret ever trying to reject me.'
Emma trembled then, her pulse pounding in her ears as she allowed the weight of the threat to settle on her chest. More tears fell, and she became helpless.
"I had been so nice to you, I thought you would appreciate it. But you're nothing but an egocentric leech!,' Mr. David sneered, irk staining red splotches at his alabaster cheeks and neck, ' I will ruin you, Emma, ruin you.'
And that was when Emma became aware of the approaching platters of feet, and the dulcet tones in the corridor, and her eyes widened at the conspiracy. She snapped her gaze up to meet that of the vile man's, and she noticed his thick lips writhe briefly before he deftly pushed himself up from his ducked position.
And the door bursted open.
~~~
Did you enjoy this chapter?
Please if you'd, don't forget to vote, comment and share.
Thank you.