That evening, of the day Lord Stephen Adelwood returned from London, a warm rain drizzled the whole countryside with its caressing wetness. By night however, the sky was cloudless and fair and the soaring moon absolved its see-through silver light all over the Ashleyton.
When all the chores and toil was over, Eden slipped in her room, guided by a single candle and un-curtained all the windows of the room letting the moon light flood in.
Maggie was already in her cot, shaped like a comma, snoozing.
It was calm, tonight. And just a little wet, outside.
Eden, quick as a squirrel, changed into her nightgown and slithered into her bed, blowing the bedside candle out.
The yellow lightedness of the candle passed out as the blue lightedness of the moon filled in.
Eden had just closed her eyes shut when a voice glided over her ears.
“Eden?” It was Maggie.
“Yes?” She inquired looking down at the bed by. “You are not asleep yet?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Then, nothing came for some several moments except a few long dragged in breathe from Margaret.
“Eden?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I ask something?”
“Sure.”
“Have you ever been kissed?”
A sneaky little question, wasn’t it? Eden was taken by surprise as her breathing tipped over. She rolled her head toward Maggie’s side of bed.
“Why do you ask that, Mage?”
“I asked first, Eden.”
“But..”
“No buts. Just tell me.” Maggie’s voice was heavy whispers. “Have you ever been kissed? By a man?”
Twice.
Eden had been kissed twice. Both times, by man.
Once by Lord Stephen Adelwood on her wedding day_ like a wedding vow, that was fated to be destroyed.
And her other kiss which, as a rule, was her first kiss was a much ancient one, given to her by the man she had loved. Given to her by him. Him.
She would not say his name. Not even in her thoughts.
You do not say the name of the dead ones.
Not even in your thoughts.
“No.” Eden announced it into the dark darkness of her room. “No, I have never been kissed.”
“Oh.” Maggie sighed. “That’s unfortunate.”
And again Maggie fell quiet. Eden too didn’t had any aspiration to proceed on this talk so she closed her eyes and pulled her quilt up to her nose.
“Eden.” Maggie called again. “Can I share your bed tonight?”
The question overwhelmed Eden enough to part her eyes open and make her smile, “Sure, you can. Come over.”
She saw a quick shadow of Maggie scrambling off her bed and felt her own bed get heavier as the girl got into the covers.
“So?” Eden said. “What is it that robs your sleep tonight?”
“Oh Eden….” Maggie whispered long after she had settled into a stillness. “He kissedme. Here…here, on my lips.”
“Who?” Eden asked, shocked.
“Mr. Penfield.”
“Who is he? I haven’t heard of him?”
“You have met him Eden.” Maggie provided. “The man on whom I spilled the jam today, remember? Mr. Robert Penfield.”
“But he is a guest. And you have just met him.” Eden couldn’t believe it. “Why did he kiss you?”
“When I took him to help him wash, he asked me to come into his room with him, for help. I had no idea, Eden, I succumbed.” Maggie paused and sighed deeply. “When he had pulled off his shirt, and for I couldn’t just look at him because he was so….so exposed, he stepped near to me and said...he said it was very becoming of a young lady like me to blush. I…I looked up at him surprised and he…Oh…he was so near Eden. I didn’t realize it until I was breathless but he was kissing me already. Passionately. He was holding me all over and was kissing me like…like…I don’t know.”
Eden swallowed as dread took her over.
“You didn’t protest?” she asked in a guarded voice.
“I couldn’t even keep my eyes open.” Maggie groaned. “ When I asked him ‘why?’, he said he liked me and that I was the most beautiful girl he had ever met.”
“And that was reasonable enough for him to kiss you like that?” Eden deadpanned while she could practically see Maggie’s blush even in this dark room.
“I don’t know but..but it felt so right, Eden. It felt so very acceptable though I know it wasn’t. He even asked me to meet him again. Do you think I should?”
“Would you listen to me?” Eden wasted no time in asking that.
“Of course I will.” Maggie promised. “You are my best friend.”
“Then, no.” Eden mumbled. “Don’t go.”
She felt Maggie stiffen near her but then the girl relaxed and spoke, “I won’t go.”
“And Maggie?”
“Yes?”
“Be careful.” Eden murmured as Maggie snuggled into her. “Be very careful.”
Suffice to say, that throughout that night, Eden couldn’t bargain a wink of sleep in her eyes for Maggie’s questions had left her wandering on the far past grounds.
It was never going to change, she realized. Men and their needs. Their excesses. Their eccentricities. Their monopoly over everything that pleased them.
It was never going to change, not till the world came down dead.
***
From the very next day, the degree of works to be done at Ashleyton simply heightened to an over-amplified degree as the pressure to achieve it also intensified.
There, afterall, were guests to entertain.
The breakfast had a menu. The lunch had another. And there was an entirely differing menu lessoned for dinner.
Everything had to shine. Everything must shine.
Lord Adelwood wanted his house clean. He wanted his floors shiny. He wanted the portraits of his ancestors dust free. And straight. Tea had to be on time.
Lord Adelwood and his guests were mostly outdoor all day long_ for hill trips and hunts_ and that, of course, was a plus point for Eden for that was the only time she could walk freely in the corridors and not along the shadows of the wall.
It was a week later, just another morning of bone breaking beginning and Eden had stepped out from the laundry room, with a heap of washed and dried out lace linen and curtains that had to be ironed now.
She was in the eastern wing of the manor and had to move to the western one which required a long way to be followed from the service door through the backyard. But then, the heap of clothes that she carried was too heavy and since they were all so clean and white, she could not bear the idea of what may happen if she accidently spilled them in the back alley.
She chose to go through the manor corridors. Besides, it was just eight in the morning and she doubted anyone from the guests to be up so soon.
It was a blunder.
Of late, as soon as she stepped into the polished passageway where the floors were wiped five times a day, she regretted coming here. A fear filled her.
She might stumble upon any superior.
She might run into a guest.
She might run into him. Lord Adelwood.
Her steps hastened but not much for the load she carried was too heavy and because she could not afford being noisy in the hallway full of all the guests rooms.
Thankfully, she transversed the region real quick and now was in the gallery of wing. She slowed down her pace and walked softly across the hall, glancing now and then at those wonderful art pieces the embellished the walls of it.
And then suddenly, at the end where the hall rounded into a circular studio, her eyes landed on something that checked her pace to a stoppage. A complete halt.
It was a painting.
A portrait.
Of Lord Stephen Richard Adelwood.
Without knowing it, she glided softly across the circular floor at the end of which, this huge masterpiece was situated.
It was wondrous, how the artist had so well captured in a frame a beautiful man with every aspect of his charm. The splendid green eyes with light locked in it, the boon of his lean tall figure, the way he held his head_ not too high to appear proud but not too low either, in grey tan trouser sand grey tailcoat. Even the dimple of his deep smile that made him look more man than anyone.
And that smile.
That smile which could make the world do anything over it’s magnificence.
So soft. So beautiful.
So not in her share.
She was mesmerized by his allure and that was what pained her the most. It was what made her weak. That she still admired him after all he had inflicted on her_ this was what made her a true inferior.
A substandard woman.
Her fingers tightened their hold on the metallic rim of the tub that she held. She hated herself for ever dreaming a life with this man.
“A tempting man, isn’t he?” The voice, sly and robust at the same time, and masculine, gave Eden a start and she spun on her heal to face a man, rich in cologne aroma and fashion, probably a guest staring at her with his hand folded at his back.
She lowered her eye as instantly as they met his and a hot blush rose upon her pale skin.
“I am sorry Sir. I didn’t mean….I was only…I_” Her voice died down in her throat for she herself didn’t had any idea what she was doing infront of Lord Adelwood’s portrait.
“Especially to young girls like you, he happens to be the protagonist of your midnight dreams.” The man continued, disregarding her embarrassment outright. “Tell me if I am wrong.”
She dared to look up at him from behind her thick lashes to find that he was already studying her.
“I was merely passing by, Sir.” She excused.
“But you decided to stop by this frame, anyway.” He countered in an authorative voice. “So, do tell me. What’s your view about Lord Adelwood? His good look.”
“Forgive me, but Why do you ask sir?”
“Merely to know your outlook.” He said, placing his hand slightly at her small back, signaling her to look at the painting.
Eden had not expected such forwardness. She jumped away from him making him grin as a few linen fell off from her tub.
Instantly, she sat down placing the tub by and started picking the drapes up. Not had she procured the first clench fabric that the man infront positioned his boot over at the clean white hard work of her, the very one she was holding, making her stare up at him in disbelief and desperation.
“Why, I asked you a question miss.” He stated. “It’s very disheartening to find a servant showing such impertinence toward her master.”
She swallowed. The insult. The fury. The pain. And then, she looked up at the portrait without standing up.
“We must not brand a man on the basis of his physical benefits.” She mumbled. “Charm is deceitful, beauty is vain- as says the bible.”
“Oh dear God!” The man laughed a hearty laugh. “That was most amusing. You know you are remarking that upon your master?”
His condescending voice made her look down again, at the soiled white curtain that his boot had destroyed. She picked the other ones up and placed them back into the tub while the one that had endured the boot, she kept in her hand.
“I meant no offence, my lord.” She fumbled.
“But really woman,” he continued, still shaking his head. “I can’t believe you annihilated the whole perception of beauty by quoting a silly notion from an obnoxious book that everyone adores but no one endures.”
“You asked me my opinion, Sir.” She replied, in a suppressed angry voice. “And Bible is not obnoxious!”
“I wonder what makes you so consecrated, woman.” He said, bowing down and capturing her chin by his strong fingers, making her look up. “You are far too self-righteous for a chaste maid.”
His fingers let go of her chin but that was only to let the broad expanse of his hand take hold of delicate jaw in a crushing grip making her stand up with it’s force.
She whimpered when he doubled the force of his hold on her face, as he leaned more into her. “Perhaps you are just too unsightly yourself to understand what vanity is.”
That insult had been directed so straight upon her that she stilled. Her heart turned cold and a shiver ran down her body.
He said it as if loving an unattractive person was simply out of question.
And in a way......it was.
“Clarke?” a voice suddenly called out from behind Eden and the grip of the man infront loosened.
“Andreas!” he smiled.
Eden’s eyes widened as recognized the name and the voice. It was the kind gentle man from the week ago. Mr. Andreas Edwin.
“What are you doing?” she heard Mr. Edwin ask.
“Nothing, really.” The man in front had by now left her chin to herself. “Atleast nothing important enough to tell.” And he looked down at Eden. “You may leave.”
Nodding, Eden picked up her tub of drapes and bowed a curtsey to the man infront.
She turned then, facing Mr. Edwin whose eyes turned wide and high as he acknowledged her.
“Eden..?”
She saw his mouth forming the word. But she didn’t let him voice it. Bowing a curtsey, se spun around and walked away. Ran away.
Why?
Simply, because she didn’t want him to see the dazzle that had filled up her orbs.
She hated being this weak.
She hated being mishandled by every next man she came across.
_________
I am sorry....I made it here so late.
I thought I would complete my whole Anatomy syllabus and it kept me engaged.... (I didn't however complete it anyway.)
And.....I was also editing THE STRANGER. It had countless typos but I realised that it was a story well written. No no.....I am not being high handed...but it is good to appreciate yourself once a while, isn't it?
Also......Stay safe, will you? I know you will.