2.

~ The mornings work was easy enough. Sorting through Mrs. Willows' old clothing was even a little fun. The woman had a groaning collection of elegant evening wear, classic dresses and an entire room devoted to her hat collection.

"My William and I used to love to travel." She mused as Ariadne made little signs for each hat box indicting if it would be suitable for summer or winter events. "Took me on a trip to India after we were married. Almost stayed there. Such a beautiful country and the people were so kind. But, I fell ill with some kind of fever and had to come back home."

Ariadne said nothing to all this, but listened. She couldn't imagine what it was like to travel the world like that. To honeymoon in a strange and beautiful country. She knew she never would either.

"Back then, traveling was a time consuming activity." Mrs. Willows went on. "There were no modern ships like there are now. It took weeks and even months to get to a place. You had to be ready. When William and I went to Egypt, we were stuck a smelly river boat for three weeks. It took us almost a year to finish our european tour. In fact, I had already had my first child by the time we came home."

"That must have been scary, having a baby in a strange country." Ariadne said. Memories of the half drunk midwife helping her birth Wesley, and the baby not wanting to come out right haunted her.
"Oh it was dreadful." Mrs. Willows told her. "The nurses spoke no english at all, but there was a real lady doctor in Italy that delivered my little Cassandra."
"Cassandra?" Ariadne asked. She hadn't heard that name before. Wasn't even aware that there was a daughter in the family.

Mrs. Willows looked sad a moment.
"Yes, she was my first. She was always a little sickly. She passed away when she was two of the same fever I had. Very difficult." Mrs. Willows told her. She looked up at Ariadne and seemed to compose herself. "Traveling that is. Traveling is difficult."

Ariadne nodded and knew it wasn't her place to ask about dead babies.

"Shall we take in the spring dresses? You've lost some weight, but I think they're still fashionable." Ariadne told her.
"No, I'm far too old now for yellows and violets." Mrs. Willows laughed. "But they might work for you. Take the yellow one home and work on it. Your frame is so tiny, dear, You might drown in it, but you would look charming if you can get it fitted right."

"Thank you." Ariadne said shyly. She had never owned an expensive dress like this before. Even as a handle down.
"Originally, I wore it with a modest amount of petticoats, but no one dresses like that now. You can cut down the fabric, make it more modern." Mrs. Willows mused and ran a hand over the fabric.

"I will certainly try." Ariadne told her.
Mrs. Willows stood, her height regal and handsome.

"I must check on William. He isn't well you know."

"Yes, Madam." Ariadne told her. "I'll finish cleaning up in here.

"If it doesn't rain, we can walk to the library. It's quite close. Do you read much?" she asked.
"I wish I read more, but there is always so much to do." Ariadne said truthfully.
"Well, we must get ourselves in the habit. I enjoy talking about literature." Mrs. Willows said before leaving the room.

Ariadne had to smile at herself. The Dawson family never treated her like this in all her days. It was almost like Mrs. Willows thought of her as a guest and not an employee. At the Dawson's Ariadne had to be up by six every morning to attend to Ester and Gemma. Two wicked girls who were always starved for attention and complained when their hair wasn't just right. Who fought over who got to wear what. Ariadne had to wear her crisp uniform, washed every night and hung to dry and always had to curtsey the girls out of the room.

Still she knew no other way. Once she cleaned up after the girls, set the room in order, she started on mending their dresses and working or hair pieces. A challenge to any good ladies maid. It was easier when Annabelle worked in the house with her. She had someone to help her. But, Annabelle was too plain faced for a ladies maid and was regulated to house work. Still, every meal time, the staff were together downstairs in their very own sitting room, at their very own table. All of them reading letters from home, interesting stories from the paper and the boys playing the piano until it was dinner time.

Ariadne missed that the most of the big house. She sensed no such fellowship with Jenny and Sophie. The cook was a large woman who wanted to be left alone at all times. The house maid was loud and her voice carried all through the house. Neither women seemed to like Ariadne.

She had seen Mr. Willows only once. He and his wife were sitting in the parlor and playing cards. He didn't look very sick, in fact he walked very well and seemed happy. But, the look on his face, the confusion at everything around him, made her realize something was very wrong.

~ It was raining when Arthur's cab stopped in front of his childhood home. It was a large, imposing brick building. His father had it built long before the youngest son was even thought of. Nothing about it had changed over the years, not the furniture or style. His mother installed a bathroom for the domestics a few years ago, along with a bathroom for the family upstairs, that was a modern as the woman wanted to get.

He was about to shut the cab door when he remembered the little inconvenience holding out her hand to him.

He leaned down to help her out of the cab, his umbrella shielding the both of them from the wet.

"It's cold!" Everleigh whined.

"I know, we'll be inside in a minute." Arthur told her.

He nodded to the cab driver.
"The trunks, sir." He barked. His patience was already wearing thin. He didn't know what to do with this little girl anymore.

~ Ariadne was having such a good time unpacking the clothes, she hadn't noticed the rain.

'Something I'll have to walk home in.' she thought bitterly.

She hated the rain more than anything in the world. Rain meant cold, rain meant being indoors. Rain meant people growing bored indoors and that always meant trouble.

She heard the front door bell ring and waited for Jenny to answer it.

In the Dawson house, the butler or one of the footmen answered the door and never one of the maids. But here, she wasn't sure what the rules were. They had no butler or even a valet for Mr. Willows.

Ariadne left her collection of clothing and looked down the hallway.

The front door buzzed angrily again and she knew the visitor would be out in the cold rain.

'I suppose if Jenny answers the door, I may as well to.' Ariadne decided.

The town home was blessed with it's own small foyer that allowed a waiting area for guests without coming into the home entirely.

She could barely make out the figure behind the decorative glass.

No sooner has she turned the knob than the front door was rudely pushed open and a man shoved his way in.

"Jenny, go get mother and tell her I've arrived back home. I know it's unexpected. Have cook prepare this child something to eat and I think she might need to go to bed soon. It's been a long trip." The man barked angrily as droplets of water flew everywhere in the foyer. Ariadne barely had time to register the young man and small child by his side, before she was pushed aside by a hulking cab driver.

"That will be five dollars." The cabbie said throwing down two massive trunks, water soaked from the rain and covered with traveling stickers.

The young man, his face sour looking, reached into his breast pocket and pulled free a wallet. He fished out the cash, a tip and waved the driver off.
"Jenny, have Jeffery take my trunks up to my old room." The sour looking man ordered.

Ariadne opened her mouth to explain, but stopped herself when he turned and saw she wasn't the large Irish girl he was expecting.
"Who are you?" he barked.

Ariadne saw the little girl, her face looking pale and thin under dark hair.

"I'm Ariadne." She explained. "I'm Mrs. Willows' ladies maid.

"Mother would never hire a ladies maid." The man barked. "Where's Jenny? Where's the house maid?"

"I'm so sorry, are you Jacob or Eugene?" Ariadne asked.
"Arthur!" came a shout from the top of the stairs.

All three of them looked up to see Mrs. Willows rushing downstairs to greet him.
"Arthur, darling! I thought I heard your voice!" she cried and hugged what Ariadne now knew was the youngest son, come home at last.

"Mother-" Arthur said uncomfortably.

"Arthur, why didn't you write and say you were coming home? I would have sent Jeffery to collect you. In this rain and the bad weather." She went on.
"You've hired a ladies maid?" he questioned and Ariadne felt her skin prickle hot.

"I'll tell Jeffery about he trunks, madam." Ariadne said with a curtsy.

"Oh tell Jenny to ready Arthur's old room!" Mrs. Willows sang out happily.
"Yes ma'am. Shall I take the girl to cook for something to eat?" Ariadne asked and nodded to the pale, thin child by Arthur's side.

The little girl looked positively mutinous under the dark, unruly hair.

Mrs. Willows stopped and stared at the girl as though she were the strangest creature she had ever seen.

The older woman gave a laugh.

"Arthur, what are you doing with this… with this child?" she asked. Surely there was some joke being played on her just now.

Ariadne knew she shouldn't be here, but mother, son and child were blocking her only escape.

"Mother, this is Everleigh." Arthur told the older woman. "My daughter."