Snippet #1404073

“Celeste? Celeste! Where, pray-tell, have you been, you useless child?” Mrs. Ploom, the housekeeper of the McFarth household scowled fiercely, bringing a plump, manicured hand onto a wide hip.

“I was only—”

“Don’t start with me. I well as damn have eyes. And I know what it is you’re hiding in that laundry basket of yours!”

Audible giggles were heard a few meters away from the nearby maidservants. Celeste felt her face flare slightly as she slowly realized she had been snitched on. She muttered a curse under her breath. So they had seen her in the library.

“I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. Ploom.” Celeste replied as innocently as possible, forcing a shy smile past her lips. She set the white basket down slowly and dared a glance at the rest of the girls who immediately turned their heads, stalking off with superiority.

“Don’t play dull. You’ve been sneaking off to the library, haven’t you? Don’t lie to me, girl. It’d be wise not to.”

Celeste widened her eyes, “I would never do such a thing, Mrs. Ploom. You have been mistaken. I’ve merely been carrying out your orders and my daily chores.”

At this, the old housekeeper screwed her eyes while she searched the face of her newest maidservant.

Maybe, she thought, it was foolish to believe the other maidens, for she knew the moment this child was introduced there had been a spark of jealousy of the tender relationship that had been instantaneous between Lord Nathaniel and the child. You had to be a fool to not notice that the dynamic of the household had changed.

Mrs. Ploom pursed her lips; she was torn. On one hand, she understood the bitter feelings towards Celeste. A child without a family or a home; it seemed she had come from nowhere. Yet here she was, penniless, literate, maid in the household of the esteemed McFarth family, and the sole driving purpose the Lord cared to return from his daily excursions. It was a concept Mrs. Ploom had not been able to grasp first hand. Had the Lord not a mother? Not a father? A housekeeper who had not loved him like a son?

Thus far, it had been none of these people who kept him grounded. But for a maidservant to…it was simply unheard of. On the other hand, however, Mrs. Ploom reluctantly admitted her elation at the Lord’s more frequent visits. The Lord’s presence had certainly made a difference in the dull but wealthy McFarth household. Lady McFarth had indeed seemed more vivacious lately—the sparkle in her eyes had not gone unnoticed. As for His Lordship, James McFarth, one could only say that a happy Lady of the house equaled a content husband.

Hesitant about this realization, Mrs. Ploom licked her lips, patting down her floral dress in a nervous manner, wavering between her feelings of resentment and gratitude for the girl. She studied the young girl with all the scrutiny of a suspicious mother.

“Are you angry with me, Madame? Will you dismiss me?” Celeste inquired self-consciouly, bringing a hand across her pale forehead.

“Well what are you doing just standing there? Show me the basket.” Mrs. Ploom clipped dryly, her previous anger dissipated.

At once, the auburn-haired girl bent down to rummage carefully and thoroughly through the basket full of clothes. There were no books to be seen.

“Fools.” Mrs. Ploom grumbled, feeling slightly shameful.

“Please don’t blame the others.” Celeste pleaded, a strange brightness to her eyes.

The housekeeper frowned, “You are the only one to be blamed! If you hadn’t been sneaking around in the library in the first place…Oh for heaven’s sake, very well! Carry on with your chores.”

“Yes, Madame. Thank you.” Celeste replied solemnly, and for a quick moment Mrs. Ploom wished she hadn’t been so harsh.

She was unable to draw forth an apology as she watched the maidservant saunter away, a light bounce in her steps.

A small smile crept along her chapped mouth.

At once the realization finally struck her: even if the girl had lied, she wouldn’t have dismissed her. Somehow in her mind, she knew she would have complied an excuse for the child. And maybe, just maybe the girl had somehow been able to occupy a small place in her rugged, old heart.

***

As soon as she had been able to escape to the servant’s sleeping quarters, Celeste hoisted up her skirt shamelessly, excitement dulling the nimbleness of her digits as she struggled with the knot of rope discretely tied around her slim waist. Quickly, with the slight fear of being caught, she untangled the rope that held two books attached to her waist. She then slid them underneath her mattress firmly, but not before grabbing two different novels, the ones she had taken a few nights ago. She propped them against her waist, tying them securely with a vicious pull on the cord. She draped her skirt out, making sure no bumps appeared. Feeling a little warm with exhilaration, a devious, yet playful smirk danced across her face as she took a few deep breaths, right before leaving the chambers to return the items she had borrowed.

She breathed a single word, however, there was no hatred or anger in her voice, “Fools."