Chapter 2
Sybil stayed snuggled into the Housekeeper's chest for several minutes till her sobs eased and the tears in her eyes had begun to dry. She began to love the warmth and affection given to her by the kind Housekeeper whom she often thought to be a Highland Witch. She loved how Mrs Hughes gently stroked her back and whispered soothing words into her ears, when all of her nannies would almost bend down on their knees in front of her. She gently inhaled the smell of fresh linen and the faint smell of wood smoke that tainted the cheap lavender fragrance from a simple perfume. Finally after what seemed like an eternity to the seven year old, she pulled away from the Housekeeper's embrace.
"There you are wee lassie," Mrs Hughes said in her melodic Scottish lilt that made the young girl laugh gently. Sybil decided to experiment speaking like Mrs Hughes when she was alone. There was something so sweet and musical about it that Sybil thought was truly amazing.
"A bit alright now?" Mrs Hughes asked softly to which Sybil nodded.
"Shall we get off the floor now milady? I'm not sure whether my knees like staying down here," the housekeeper joked as she tried to raise herself from the cold ground only to realise that it would not be as easy as she had expected. The young girl quickly rose to her feet and helped the older woman by extending her hand. Mrs Hughes took the young girl's hand but took no strength from it, knowing that it was more out of kindness than ability that it was extended to her.
"I'm sorry Mrs Hughes if I bothered you," Sybil smiled from behind her tear stained cheeks.
"Oh never mind my dear. What about we have a nice chocolate cookie that I have hidden somewhere here and you tell me all about what's bothering you?" Mrs Hughes asked in a gentle voice and watched in amusement as the little girl's eyes lit up at the mention of chocolate cookies.
"Children will be children, never mind if they are wee lassies or little ladies," Elsie thought and a smile crossed her face.
Sybil sat herself down at the sofa in the sitting room as Mrs Hughes walked to her cupboard to fetch her jar of chocolate cookies. Sybil's curious eyes travelled from one corner to the other of the sitting room eyeing the little intricacies that decorated the Housekeeper's homely sitting room. Mrs Hughes sat herself down on the settee and offered Sybil the open jar from which she graciously took one out.
Sybil took a small bite off her considerably large cookie and when she was almost finished with that bite Mrs Hughes asked, "Why were you hiding in here milady?"
"Edith and Mary told me that I'm not their sister," the loud voice that began the sentence trailed off into a whisper.
"Of course you are their sister, milady," Mrs Hughes replied with a chuckle.
"But they said I was not. They said that I was brought over from the village and that I am not a lady," Sybil replied in a pained voice.
"You were born in this very house milady. I saw you the day you were born. Such a pretty wee bairn," Mrs Hughes said as she gently squeezed Sybil's cheek.
"What is a bairn Mrs Hughes?" Sybil asked with a new found curiosity about the queer word.
"Oh it's what we Scots call babies," Mrs Hughes answered, rather amused by how the sad face of the young girl faded and one of curiosity took its place.
"But what if I am not a lady?" her little eyes tainted with fear and sorrow again.
"You are a little Lady, milady. Every bit, as much as them," Mrs Hughes consoled the little girl.
"So you are sure I was not brought over from the village?"
"Of course milady! Trust me," she replied as she contemplated on how delicate little minds were and how a few simple words were able to make a lasting impression in them, for good or for bad.
"Mary and Edith told that I should not be in the nursery with them. Would sisters be so mean? If they were my sisters would they be so mean?" Sybil's worried voice returned.
"Siblings can be mean to each other milady but that doesn't mean that they don't love you. It's what sisters are like," Mrs Hughes consoled the little lady as she remembered what she got up to with her own lovely sister. Becky was a kind and gentle soul but Elsie was mean to her at times, but still loved her all the same from the bottom of her heart.
A slight smile formed on the little girl's face as she finished the cookie. Mrs Hughes held the jar to her again and Sybil gave a sweet smile reluctantly looking away. She would like another cookie but wondered if it was polite to do so.
"Go on. I know you would like another. I know that look in little girls!" Mrs Hughes teased and Sybil took another cookie with a mischievous smile.
"Thank you Mrs Hughes!" she whispered excitedly. After a couple of bites Sybil decided to resume her story.
"So I ran away from them and came here. Because I knew they can't find me down here. I didn't know where to hide but I chose here. I wouldn't go to Carson's pantry. He frightens me and of course he only likes Mary," Sybil finished with an angry face.
"I don't frighten you?" Mrs Hughes asked with a wink.
"Mary told me that you were a Highland witch who stole children and turned them into cupboards, beds, vases and all sorts of things. She told me that every night after everyone's gone to bed you sneak children into the Abbey and turn them into things and one day you'll do that to us too if we go out of the nursery late at night. I was frightened but I had to take a risk you know," Sybil replied strongly in an adorable matter-of-fact voice.
"Lady Mary told you so? May be I should consider turning her into a little clock. Or… better still, a teacup," Mrs Hughes replied acting as if she was contemplating on the choice and raised a finger to chin as if she was thinking, making Sybil's eyes go wide as saucers.
"Mary told Carson would protect her though," Sybil said, finally excited about the prospect of Mary turning into a tea cup.
"Then I'll just have to turn him into a hat stand," Mrs Hughes replied as if the task of turning people into things were her speciality.
"Oh…" was all Sybil could manage and Mrs Hughes burst out laughing.
"You won't do anything to me, would you?" Sybil asked, slightly frightened.
"If Nanny says you were naughty I might have to think about it," Mrs Hughes replied still laughing and Sybil gulped.
"I won't be Mrs Hughes," Sybil replied as she got down from the settee and prepared to leave. She was smiling now too, having been infected with Mrs Hughes' melodic laugh.
"There's a good little Lady," Mrs Hughes patted Sybil's cheek and smiled gently. For a moment Sybil thought how kind Mrs Hughes was despite the possible fact that she was a witch, and then hurried to the door.
She turned the door handle and then looked back at the black clad figure of Mrs Hughes still seated on the settee and asked with some doubt and worry lacing her voice, "you aren't really a witch, are you?" at which Mrs Hughes chuckled.
TO BE CONTINUED