03

Ginelle dropped her head knowing that her answer would surely send her on her way. What gentle bred woman would trouble herself with a street rat? "Aye, milady." She said softly, her eyes transfixed on the floor.

Eloise reached out and lifted Ginelle's head so that their eyes interlocked. "I am sorry that this has happened to you. No child should have to endure such cruelty." Her hand fell away from Ginelle's face and Eloise turned her head away as if struggling internally with conflicting emotions and troubling thoughts.

She stood and Ginelle watched her pace curiously back and forth, the deep blue of her sapphire skirts in such bold contrast to the lush white carpet beneath her feet. Her abrupt pacing came to a quick halt as she turned and stared down at Ginelle; her gentle eyes wide with an assertive notion. "I want you to live here." She said, "With me."

Struck silent, Ginelle peered up at her as if she didn't quite fathom what she had just said. She couldn't possibly be suggesting that she, an impoverished child live among the prosperous? It wasn't proper. Was Eloise being cruel? Was she jesting or simply mocking her pain? Had she made another mistake in confiding in Eloise?

"I d-don't understand."

Eloise returned to her seat and reached out to grasp Ginelle's hands in her own. "Please hear me out, sweeting." She said firmly, "I was once irrevocably happy. I was married to the most charming, handsome man and he and I were deeply in love." She paused and when she spoke next, her voice cracked with a sudden dispiritedness, "I was to have his child." She became quiet before adding, "I am widowed." A heavy silence descended and than she said with a heart-wrenching declaration, "And I am childless."

Ginelle paled as the deep sadness she had sensed earlier that day was fully displayed on Eloise's beautiful face. She had lost both her husband and child. Though they both had known complete and utter different worlds, they shared alike in their anguish.

Eloise fingers tightened around Ginelle's hand as she said, "You were robbed of a childhood by a cruel man. You deserve an education and a chance at life."

"And ye the chance to be a mother?" Ginelle asked softly.

Eloise straightened a corner of her mouth lifting as she attempted a smile that didn't reach her blue eyes. "You and I are alike in our sorrows and I believe together we can mend our sufferings. I know that I can never be your mother but I would like very much for you to stay."

"I am-" Ginelle started and than paused as a sturdy knock sounded at the door.

Eloise bid them entry and remained silent as a young girl entered carrying a tray laden with food. Instantly, Ginelle's stomach rumbled noisily and she eyed the food with a ravenous stare.

After the maid had left, Eloise said, "Stay for some time, Ginelle. At least until the wintry season has passed. Please, consider it?"

Ginelle bit down on her lower lip, suddenly aware of the bad habit. She dreaded the thought of returning to the dreaded cold and darkened streets of London and most importantly, Pierino. What would it hurt to stay for awhile? To warm herself and eat aplenty and allow herself just a smidge of companionship that she so desperately yearned for? She studied the woman sitting across from her. How could she deny Eloise this request when she had done so much for her in just a mere day? Eloise had truly suffered a terrible loss yet she still had compassion to show upon a mere peasant such as herself?

Hesitantly, she nodded. She would consider it for a time because for now, she was safe from the frigid weather and the threat of Pierino. He would not think to look for her here.

Eloise smiled with a look of certainty and motioned to the food displayed before them. Within the next hour, Ginelle listened intently as Eloise talked endlessly. She hadn't quite realized how famished she truly was until she peered down to find the tray completely depleted. She realized than that Eloise had not touched a single thing and she resisted tears for the tray had been sent up specifically for her.

Lucile paced nervously in the corridor as her mistress appeared, closing the chamber door quietly behind her. Immediately, the elderly woman turned to Eloise, her withered face pinched with distress. "Milady, I do not think it wise to bring the child here. Master Dorian will not be pleased."

"Lucile." That stern voice halted any further disapproval from the older woman as Eloise said, "I am the Lady of the manor. The child stays. It is not up for discussion." She gathered her flowing skirts of her sapphire gown and descended down the hall with Lucile at her hem.

"I know it is not my place, mon cher but you and I both know that his tolerance has its limits. He will not permit that child-"

Eloise whirled, causing Lucile to stiffen with bewilderment at Eloise's apparent dismay. "That child will die if she spends another night on the street." Eloise quickly gathered her composure, straightening her spine as her eyes softened, "Forgive me, Lucile but you cannot expect me to sit by and allow an innocent child to die at the hands of winter."

Lucile reached out and grasped Eloise's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Your grief is understandable, but you cannot continue to burden yourself with their loss, twas out of your hands."

Eloise lifted her chin, quickly concealing the distress in her eyes as an exact resolve settled across her graceful features. "The child stays."

Ginelle stared at the empty silver tray sitting before her and pressed a small hand to her full stomach. She felt herself on the verge of tears but knew it was ridiculous to cry over a meal. Eloise Ashford was a beautiful, gracious woman. Should she really consider her proposition? As she thought this, she stared around at the lovely, white room and wondered what it would be like to wake every morning with a heated hearth at your feet and feathers beneath your head and servants assisting your every need without having to endure the bitterness of winter and the impending dangers that the eerie streets of London presented. Could she possibly be free of Pierino Basilotta, at least for the time being?

The door suddenly opened, jarring Ginelle to awareness and she immediately tensed as she met those deep, azure eyes but they were always soft and full of warmth. Eloise smiled as she approached; her posture impeccable as she carried a bundle in her arms.

"This shall be sufficient enough until we can get you attire that is more fitting." Ginelle hesitated before gingerly accepting the nightshirt from Eloise's extended hand. She held the garment to her chest and gently traced the delicate ruffles.

"I shall send Ingrid up shortly to assist you." She turned to leave.

"I cannot repay ye-"

Eloise turned and held up her hand and shook her head, relinquishing any more words from Ginelle as she said, "You need not repay me." She smiled. A light touched her blue eyes as she continued, "On the morrow we will visit a seamstress in town and select from many beautiful collections of color and fabric for your gowns to be made. You would like that wouldn't you?" she reached out and touched the rim of Ginelle's nose.

Despite her objections, Ginelle's mouth curved into a smile at Eloise's tender display of motherly affection.

Her happiness was short as Eloise departed and left Ginelle standing in the center of the room, clutching the delicate piece of cotton to her chest. She suddenly felt that pressing loneliness and ached for Eloise's presence. She struggled to breathe; finding it difficult to bring air into her lungs. Her eyes moved warily around the room, studying the dark corners as the sun slowly began to slide from the sky, pulling the blue canopy in its fall and slowly creeping up behind was an ominous black shroud.

She felt as if the walls were enclosing her in and the spacious room began to grow smaller and smaller.

She turned to study the window, wondering how difficult it would be to climb from it when an abrupt knock sounded at the door.

Ginelle pivoted, uncertain as of what to do as she stared helplessly at the door. The latch lifted and the door parted as a young girl stuck her head inside and sneered sharply at her.

"Milady claimed you were a bit bashful." The girl chimed as she pushed open the door and stepped in, crossing the room to close the thick drapes covering the window she had been pondering only a moment ago.

The slender girl turned to study her more intensely with curious, green eyes and a pale face full of freckles. Thick, red curls framed her oval face and she reached up to tuck a lone strand behind her ear. "I am Ingrid." She said pointedly, her eyes suddenly accusing as they settled on the garment in her hands. "Do you need my assistance?"

Ginelle sensed that the red-haired maid was not pleased that she was here, assisting her. Those green eyes lingered on the nightshirt, indicating the garment belonged to her and she was not exceptionally thrilled about it. Ginelle shook her head, quite wary of the maid and her cold demeanor.

Ingrid snorted, "Vera' well." The maid took a few moments to check the fire before leaving, subjugating her once again to the dreaded enclosure of the room. Darkness overpowered her, trapping her in a terrifying cloud of paranoia. Her body began to tremble as her fingers tightened around the cotton in her hands. She looked helplessly towards the fire, instantly seeking its warmth in hopes that it would chase away the cold that had seeped into her bones along with a sense of foreboding.

She sank to the floor before the hearth and began to rock back and forth, clutching the silver locket dangling from around her neck as she whispered a melody her father use to sing to her whenever she was scared.

Why father? Why did you abandon me? She thought to herself. Tears glided from beneath her lashes and she quickly brushed them away for Pierino had always said tears were a form of weakness. She should be happy shouldn't she? She was warm and her stomach was full, so why this sudden deep sorrow?

With that last thought in mind, she settled onto the carpet below the mantel and curled into a ball as the heat from the fire caressed her face with warmth, coaxing the remedy of sleep to come.

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