07

She dropped her head, her hands entwining nervously against the skirt of Ingrid’s dress. What had she done to displease Ingrid so ? She pondered this as they made their way into the frigid air where they were greeted by an elderly coachman. He assisted them into the waiting carriage where Ginelle quickly settled into the leather seat and Eloise followed.

It wasn’t until she realized their journey was leading them straight back into town that she felt that impending fear of Pierino rise. She suddenly had a shortness of breath and quickly turned her face to the window at her side. She closed her eyes against the sudden numbness seeping into her bones as her fingers curled painfully in her lap ; her knuckles turning white from gripping them so tightly. What if he spotted her ? Would he steal her from Eloise in broad daylight ? The thought nearly made her choke on a sob at the dreaded fate that surely waited if she fell into Pierino’s clutches.

A gentle hand fell on her shoulder, jarring her to awareness. « There is nothing to fear. » Eloise said softly, her eyes large and blue, revealing the deep sincerity there.

Ginelle smiled in hopes of convincing Eloise that she believed her, but as she turned to peer out the window and the familiar perimeter of town came into view, she felt her heart thrust inside her chest along with a deep sense of foreboding dread.

Eloise spent the next several hours skimming through yards of fabric. She selected various materials that included muslin and silk and beautiful ribbons to adorn her hair. Before she knew it, she had everything she would have never dreamed of possessing. After getting her measurements, the seamstress started on a gown that fastened in the back and was made to fall around her ankles. Eloise explained that the cotton garment was a bed gown and Ginelle was relieved to know that she would not have to borrow Ingrid’s any longer.

The seamstress described several printed and colored gowns with vertical bodices as Eloise listened intently while Ginelle remained cautious, careful to watch the passing bystanders outside the large window, fearful that she would see a frightening, familiar silhouette.

She was amazed that Eloise would go to such lengths to provide her with such a wardrobe. This list consisted of shifts and stays, gowns and petticoats including hats, shoes and all sorts of accessories, things she never imagined wearing.

When they left the seamstress with her extremely long list of needlework, Eloise took Ginelle’s hand and they proceeded down the street. Somehow holding that larger hand in her own, she had a sense of belonging, self-worth. Eloise would never replace the mother she never knew, but Eloise had stepped in to care for an impoverished child, taking her under her care as if they were the dearest of kin. Just as quickly as that warmth spread through her chest, it rapidly diminished as a quick and rational thought came to mind. She would never rightfully belong with Eloise. She didn’t belong in her world. She had been fearful of trusting a complete stranger yet somehow Eloise had quickly earned her trust and devotion, she had welcomed her into her aristocratic life without as much as a second thought.

Just as the merchant had called the previous day, she was naught but a street rat. A blacksmith’s daughter abandoned to the streets. Her veins were not of an aristocratic blood and she was naught but an imposture at the Ashford manor. She now fully understood Ingrid’s distaste and hatred. She was naught but a fraud to the maid and could she blame her ? Why should Ingrid a maid, serve a lowly street rat ?

Sensing something amiss, Eloise tugged lightly on Ginelle’s hand, « What troubles you, sweeting ? »

Ginelle paused, chewing on her lower lip before finally spilling her thoughts. « Ye have given me so much. I am not of privileged blood. I am not worthy of yer kindness. »

« Is that what troubles you ? » Eloise asked, perplexed. « Haven’t you noticed that social rank is not of any importance to me ? You tell me that it isn’t right to dote on a child deprived of clothing and food, of shelter ? » Eloise face altered with that all too familiar pain dwelling beneath the surface and she quickly concealed it from Ginelle’s observant stare.

Ginelle remained silent as Eloise took her hand once more and they continued down the boisterous street teeming with life. She slipped closer to Eloise’s side, seeking her protection as Eloise walked proud and unfettered by the utter chaos of the townsfolk.

The sun was beginning to descend, casting subtle hues of dusk across the sky as they made their way back to the plantation. Ginelle’s body felt heavy with exhaustion from the earlier happenings of the day and eagerly sought sleep. She peered over at Eloise who sat straight in the leather seat, staring out the window, her eyes staring past the line of trees as if deep in thought.

As they pulled to a halt in front of the house and the coachman assisted them from the carriage, Ginelle tensed as Lucile came bounding from the house towards her mistress, her face pinched with anxiety.

« Milady. » She called, casting a fearful glance in Ginelle’s direction. « I must speak with you. »

Eloise rushed forward to intercept the older woman and they exchanged a few words. « What is wrong, Lucile ? »

« Tis Master Dorian, he’s here. » Ginelle’s heart dropped at the older woman’s apparent distress in her somber tone.

« Already ? » Ginelle turned to look at Eloise who appeared far more excited than her worried maid. « Lucile, help Ginelle to her room and assist her to bed. We have had a trying day. »

Lucile stood concerned as she stared at her mistress retreating back, than slowly turned to look at Ginelle, « Come child. » She said and as Ginelle moved forward she caught the glint of alarm in the woman’s dark eyes.

Ginelle settled onto the large bed and stared at the door where moments ago, the elderly maid, Lucile had departed. A heaviness settled in her chest and her heart beat to the rhythm of fear. Master Dorian had returned home. Though Lucile had tried to conceal her obvious distress, it was quite clear that the older woman was frantic on the inside. She peered down at her hand that had been cleaned of all blood and bandaged. She flexed her fingers across the cotton of her nightshirt and sighed, struggling against tears. Eloise had been so kind but she didn’t belong here. She had willingly agreed to consider Eloise’s proposition, but the reality of it was simple. Now that the Laird had returned, she had to leave.

She got to her feet and turned to admire the lovely canopied-bed. For a moment, she fancied it her own. She moved to the window and leaned against the frame, staring out into the vast approaching darkness. She gripped her mother’s necklace and shuddered at the thought of returning to those dark, desolate streets where the threat of Pierino was consistent. For a short time, she had thought herself safe from him for he would have never thought to look for her here.

A single tear slipped from beneath her lashes. Eloise had done so much for her ; had catered to her as though they were kindred. She couldn’t continue this farce pretense. Eloise had given her silks and ribbons and filled her stomach and warmed her blood but most importantly, she had given her a moment of true happiness, even if it were for a short period of time. But what could she give Eloise in return ? A street rat such as herself had naught to offer. Eloise’s generosity knew no bounds and she couldn’t allow herself to willingly accept her charity any longer.