DISCLAIMER: I don't own Big O; Sunrise, Inc. does. I do, however, own this original story.
The Handmaiden
By The Lady Razorsharp
Part 4: Chatelaine
And so many things I'd forgotten
In a world that we shared
With so many things for the asking
Never asked for the madness there
Strange how I find myself
So often on a distant shore
There's only one thing that's confusing
Was it you? Was it me?
With so many questions unanswered
Or was that part of your mystery?
--Sarah Brightman
Katherine knew Gordon was an important figure in Paradigm, so she assumed that his home would be much like her parents': larger than most, furnished with the occasional antique, sculpture or work of art. She imagined, as they pulled away from the rose garden in Gordon's long black car, that his home would be well-kept, with a manicured lawn, hedges framing the drive, or maybe even a small fountain in a tidy garden.
What she saw put all of her girlish assumptions to shame. The house was immense, seated regally at the end of a long ribbon of emerald green grass. The white stone of the walls and the ornate trimmings on the eaves reminded Katherine of the wedding cake they had sliced that very afternoon. In the light of the evening sun, the house took on a delicate pink hue, and Katherine realized with a shock that they were outside the domes. Her parents' house was in West Dome 2, one of the older and more prestigious neighborhoods, yet not even the finest house was as grand as the one she would now call home.
"We're here," Gordon announced, giving Katherine's hand a squeeze. "I've arranged for the staff to greet us. They're very anxious to meet the new Mrs. Rosewater." He smiled at her as a gloved hand swung open her door.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Rosewater," said a cultured voice. Katherine stepped out of the car and came face to face with a thin man with brown hair beginning to gray at the temples. With a pang of pity, Katherine realized that the man wore a patch over his right eye, but the man saw her momentary frown and smiled beneath his long mustache.
"It's alright, ma'am. I know it's a bit of a shock." His left eye was a clear, bright blue, and it shone kindly at his young mistress. "Don't worry, I don't even remember how it happened."
"Ah, I see you've met Norman," Gordon called out, coming around the back of the car to join his wife. "Norman Burg, one of the first men I hired when I purchased Rose Terrace. Norman is my chauffeur, as well as head butler. The house wouldn't run nearly as smoothly if he wasn't here."
Norman smiled, his eye twinkling a bit. "I take great pleasure in my duties, sir. Maybe that's the reason you've kept me on so long."
Gordon laughed. "No doubt of that." He took Katherine's arm and began to lead her up the steps. "Come on; Norman will get your bags."
Katherine looked back at Norman, who shut the car door and bowed slightly. "I'll take care of everything, sir," he called back. "We'll have you settled in no time, ma'am."
"What a wonderful thing it must be to have someone who you can trust," Katherine commented as they approached the large double doors.
"I'm gone on business so much, it's a necessity to have someone like Norman around." Gordon opened the door for her. "Now that you're here, however, you're the lady of the house. You and Norman will no doubt be working very closely to keep everything ship-shape."
Smiling, Katherine glanced back to see Norman pulling suitcases from the trunk of the limousine. "I'm already looking forward to it."
The inside of the house was as impressive as the outside, or so it would seem by the decoration of the foyer. With a long, curving balustrade and diamond-patterned black and white parquet floor, the foyer was two stories tall. A large crystal chandelier, wired for electricity, hung from the ceiling on a stout gilded chain. Mirrors reflected the light at every angle, and Katherine's fingertips brushed the satiny finish of a gossip bench seated near the door. A heavy black telephone shone dully from its perch on the bench, and a coat rack and umbrella stand waited nearby to receive their outerwear.
While Katherine was taking all of this in, a man in servant's livery stepped up to the couple and gave a short, polite bow. The man, fully gray but with no mustache, was wearing gray trousers and a black swallow-tailed coat, with an ornate R embroidered in red on the left breast. His white shirt was crisply starched, and his red tie was fastened with a small cabochon garnet. "Welcome to Rose Terrace, ma'am."
His voice was not quite as warm as Norman's, Katherine thought, and the tone was rather clipped, but she reminded herself that servants were not required to be friendly, only useful and loyal. "Thank you."
"My name is Reynold, and I coordinate the grounds staff. I am also Mr. Rosewater's valet."
"A damn good one, too," Gordon chimed. "Reynold, what's the status in this place? Is everyone ready to greet their new mistress?"
"Ready and waiting, sir. They're all in the dining room, as you asked."
"Very good." Gordon turned to his wife and ushered her in the direction of an ornately carved set of doors. "After you, my dear."
The light from the foyer shone on at least twenty pairs of eyes ranged around the walls of the long, paneled dining room. Katherine gulped slightly to herself; she couldn't imagine being in charge of all these people! Then she remembered that Norman would be there to help her, and she relaxed slightly. "Good afternoon," she said, her voice sounding small in her ears.
"Everyone," Gordon began, "This is your new mistress. Her name is Katherine, but I don't have to tell you the consequences if I hear anything but 'ma'am' or 'Mrs. Rosewater' come out of your mouths." He glanced around the room at the silent audience, letting his words sink in for effect. "Now. She will be working with Norman in order to familiarize herself with how things are done around here, and I expect each and every one of you to do everything in your power to assist them. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," came the chorus of voices.
"Good. Alright, starting from the left--you, right there--please give your name, your position, and how long you have been in service at Rose Terrace."
A young man in spotlessly clean khaki overalls, white teeshirt and tough canvas gloves came forward, doffing his khaki cap as he did so. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. I'm Raoul. I've been on the lawn staff for three years."
"Nice to meet you, Raoul," Katherine nodded, as a young woman in a knee-length gray skirt, gray blouse, and crisp white apron came forward. The woman's little white cap, embroidered with the same red R, was pinned into her stiffly formed golden curls. She dropped a little curtsey in Katherine's direction.
"I'm Megan," she began, her voice high and soft. "I'm one of the upstairs maids--there's two of us, ma'am--and I also work laundry. I've been here five years."
An older woman in the same uniform came forward next, her steel-gray hair a foil to her dark green eyes. "I'm Giselle," she nodded to Katherine. "I'm Megan's mother. I've been Mr. Rosewater's head maid for the last fifteen years. As such, I am in charge of the maid staff."
And so it went, for a good fifteen minutes--or at least until Katherine felt a knot of concentration forming in the middle of her forehead. She couldn't recall a single name, but she managed a pleasant nod to the assembled company. "I'm very pleased to meet you all," she smiled. "I will most definitely need your help in the days to come."
"Yes, ma'am," they chorused. "Welcome to Rose Terrace, ma'am."
There was a single clap behind them, and the couple turned to see Norman standing in the doorway. "Alright, everyone, back to work. Let's let the master and the missus get settled." The crowd filed out past Norman, who turned to Katherine and smiled. "Your luggage is in your room, ma'am. I've taken the liberty to ask Lotte, your personal maid, to open your bags and air out your things. Mr. Rosewater thought you could get acquainted before she has to help with dinner preparations."
Katherine's head stopped pounding only to swim with Norman's words. "I have my own maid?" she asked her husband. At his nod, Katherine turned back to Norman. "Oh, well…all right. I suppose I should go talk to her, then."
"Take as long as you need, Katherine," Gordon assured her as she followed Norman up the grand balustrade. "I need to see to the office for a bit. I'll see you at dinner; six o'clock sharp."
"Okay," Katherine called back, fluttering a hand in his direction. "I've got a headache already, Norman," she groaned. "This can't be a good sign."
Norman turned and smiled at his young mistress. "I'll get you some aspirin, ma'am. It's a lot to be hit with on your first day; I do apologize. You'll learn everyone's name in no time, though." He stepped up to a set of white doors trimmed a recessed rectangle outlined in gold paint. "Here we are."
"Does every room in the house have double doors--Oh!" Katherine's eyes adjusted to the light pouring in from the window, and caught her breath at the sight of the loveliest room she had ever seen. The furnishings were pastel yellow and bright white, dominated by a huge bed made up with a white organdy coverlet. The four-poster bed was draped with a crocheted canopy, and the light was filtered by filmy white sheers that fluttered in the breeze. The wallpaper was an icy lemonade and white stripe, and the plush carpet underfoot was the color of lemon sherbet.
"It's--so beautiful," Katherine murmured, sinking down on a settee upholstered in pale yellow shantung. A young, dark-haired woman in a butter-colored suit glanced dazedly back at her from her left, and with a start, Katherine realized it was her own reflection in the oval-framed mirror on the marble top dresser. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Mr. Rosewater's instructions were very specific," Norman said, pleasure at Katherine's reaction evident in his voice. "This room was quite drab before, if I do say so myself."
"Still, to make him change his room like this," Katherine mused, rising to finger the rice carvings on the bedpost. "This is so feminine. I hope he doesn't feel threatened sleeping here," she joked.
"Begging your pardon, ma'am," said a strong feminine voice, "but this is your room. The master's room is two doors down." A slender woman in a maid's uniform, with copper hair cut just below her ears, stepped into the room from an open doorway. The piercing look in her jet-black eyes made Katherine distinctly uncomfortable--or maybe that was just her surprising announcement, Katherine wondered.
Frowning, Katherine rose to her feet. "You mean, Mr. Rosewater and I--well, that is--" She fiddled with her clutch nervously, feeling her cheeks grow warm.
"Mr. Rosewater often comes in very late from his work, ma'am," Norman explained gently. "I would venture to say that he wouldn't wish to disturb you, when that happens. Besides," he smiled. "This house could do with a feminine touch here and there. Don't you agree, Lotte?"
Lotte nodded, and Katherine realized that Lotte looked more like a girl of 18 than a woman. "Of course. Now, if you will excuse me, ma'am, I have duties in the kitchen before dinner. I will be back to help you dress at five-fifteen." She gave a short curtsey, and left the room through the double doors.
Norman inclined his head toward Katherine. "I must be off as well," he announced. "If there is anything you need, ma'am, just pick up the white phone on the table, and the staff on duty will answer." He turned at the door. "Please, feel free to tour the garden; you'll find a door to the left of the bedstead that leads directly to the Rose Walk."
"Thank you, Norman." Katherine smiled. "I just might do that."
"Very good, ma'am. See you downstairs, then." The door clicked shut behind him, and she was alone.
"My God," she breathed, sinking down on the settee again. After a moment, she giggled to herself; she had to tell Amelia about this place. She was sure Amelia would be emerald green with envy. Picking up the white phone on the occasional table next to the settee, Katherine waited for the answering voice on the other end.
"House line," said a female staffer. "Yes, ma'am, how may I assist you?"
"I'd like to make a phone call," Katherine began, but to her surprise, the staff member cut her off nearly midsentence.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but the only outside line is in Mr. Rosewater's private office, and it is currently in use."
"Oh." Katherine frowned. "All right then, never mind." She replaced the handset in its cradle. So much for that idea.
Since the phone call would have to wait, Katherine decided to explore the garden. Rising from her seat, Katherine walked to the door and pushed it open onto a flagstone path. A rose icon was set into the flagstones every few feet, and the path was flanked by tall rosebushes covered with sweet-smelling blooms. In the very center of the garden was a fountain of a young nude woman pouring water from a jar on her shoulder into the large pool at her feet.
A flash of movement caught Katherine's attention, and she stepped out onto the path. "Hello?" she called. "Is anyone there?" A young girl, about sixteen or seventeen, peeked out from behind a bush heavy with nodding pewter blooms. "Come here, don't be afraid," Katherine beckoned.
The girl stepped out into the wan sunlight, and Katherine gasped despite herself; the young woman was heavy with child, one that rode high under her full, swollen breasts. The girl's blue eyes were wide, as if she had been caught doing something forbidden.
"What's your name?" Katherine asked, but the girl turned tail and fled. When Katherine reached the spot that the girl had been standing, the girl was gone. Searching the path in either direction yielded no results, so Katherine gave up and decided to go back inside and familiarize herself with her room.
The room was one breathtaking surprise after another; the scented paper lining the drawers of the bureau, the sumptuously appointed dressing room, where her clothing already hung neatly on yellow satin hangers, and the incredibly luxurious bathroom off of the dressing area. The bathroom was the most breathtaking yet, a far cry from her small sink-and-shower operation at her parent's house.
Katherine ran one butter-gloved fingertip along the rim of the deep tub, which was lined with cream-colored marble. Two large windows of thick glass bricks amplified the wan light, yet distorted the view enough for sufficient privacy without drapes. Thick towels made of spotless white terry hung on a rack within easy reach of the tub, and a small gilt vanity nearby held an assortment of glass bottles, all filled with different shades of golden liquid.
Curious, Katherine picked up each of the bottles in turn, removing their faceted crystal stoppers. The first gave out a scent of newly cut roses; the second a scent like the sea. A third smelled of spice, and a fourth reminded her of cookies just out of the oven. The fifth one, however, was her favorite; it smelled of lavender and lemon. Slipping off her gloves, Katherine tipped the bottle to spill a little of the contents in her hand. The liquid was slippery and delightfully smooth, but it did not foam like soap. With sudden heat in her cheeks, Katherine quickly replaced the stopper and put the bottle back on the table. This was oil such as lovers used, to accentuate a sensual touch during their private times together. Her mother kept such a bottle on her dresser; Katherine had been punished as a child for spilling the expensive liquid, though she hadn't known what it was for.
Which scent will be his favorite? Katherine wondered, wiping her hands on a towel.
A knock at the bedroom door made her jump. Hastily gathering up her gloves and her purse, Katherine left the bathroom just as Lotte appeared in the doorway to the dressing room. "Hello," Katherine nodded.
"Good evening, ma'am. It's five-fifteen. I've been instructed to help you dress for dinner tonight." She approached Katherine, hands out. "May I take your things?"
"Oh, of course!" Katherine gave her purse and gloves into Lotte's hands. Lotte put the purse in a compartment just inside the dressing room door, then placed the gloves in a small mesh bag.
"For laundering," Lotte explained at Katherine's curious glance at the mesh bag. "May I have your shoes, ma'am?"
Katherine stepped out of her chocolate-brown pumps and began to unbutton her suit jacket. "Lotte, how long have you been working for Mr. Rosewater?"
"Not long," Lotte said, bending to put the shoes in a cubby. "My father is friends with Mr. Rosewater. That is how I came to be in service at Rose Terrace."
"Ah." Katherine lay her jacket over the back of the settee, and Lotte came around to help her unzip the skirt. "You know, when I went into the garden just now, I saw a young girl walking on the path."
"A girl, ma'am?"
Katherine nodded and stepped out of the skirt. "Yes, a girl not much older than you, really. Poor dear, she looked very uncomfortable; she must be almost due." The breeze reminded her that she was only clad in a form-fitting slip and thigh-high stockings, and Katherine moved back from the half-open doorway. "I tried to ask her name, but she just ran off. Do you know who it was?"
"I couldn't say, ma'am." Lotte approached with a large white box in her arms. "Mr. Rosewater asked that you wear this tonight," she said, placing the box on the floor at Katherine's feet.
"Oh, he's given me so much already," Katherine smiled, as Lotte undid the white ribbon and lifted the lid. Parting the tissue paper, Lotte drew out a full-skirted, strapless evening dress. The dress was made of taffeta, and was a stylish riot of tiny yellow and black check. The neckline was a glossy band of white satin that would fit snugly around Katherine's bust, turning her gentle curves into a daring décolleté.
"Does the dress please you?" Lotte deadpanned.
"It's gorgeous, but is dinner such a formal affair every evening?" Katherine asked wryly, shrugging out of her slip.
"This dinner is in honor of the master's new bride," Lotte returned. "Such an occasion warrants this manner of attire." She lay the dress gently on the settee and took the slip, only to come back with a floor-length half-slip and a strapless bustier, both made of white satin trimmed in lace.
Katherine blushed and stripped off her brassiere. These were the undergarments Gordon would have to undo this evening, if she didn't change from her dinner dress before bed. The sunlight was turning more ruddy as the moments ticked by, and suddenly her wedding night seemed much closer than it had been at noon in the rose garden.
Lotte's sharp eyes picked up on the high color in Katherine's cheeks. "Is there something wrong, ma'am?"
"No, not really." Katherine gave a small grunt as Lotte fastened the bustier with a strong tug. "It's just--well--" she turned to face Lotte, who regarded her solemnly from under her thin eyebrows. "I suppose if you're going to be my maid then there's not going to be any secrets between us."
"Of course, ma'am. Everything you say to me I will hold in strict confidence."
Katherine grinned. "I know. I'm just--well, nervous about tonight. I never have, you know."
Lotte didn't blink. "You mean, you have never been intimate with a man before," she said.
With an explosive sigh, Katherine smiled at her unflappable companion. "Well, I'm glad one of us said it. Yes, that's right. I'm a virgin."
"You lack knowledge in how to please a man in this manner," Lotte nodded. "Unfortunately, I can be of no help to you."
Katherine returned the nod. "So that makes two of us, then."
"No, you do not understand," Lotte said, her voice even. "I cannot help you because I am not a human. I cannot feel desire or love or any of the emotions you humans feel."
With a shock, Katherine stumbled back and sat down hard on the settee. "What do you mean, you're not a human?"
"I am an android," Lotte explained. "I was only created to resemble a human."
"But you said your father--"
"Dr. Wayneright is my father. I call him thus because he modeled me after his real daughter, Dorothy." She bent to pick up the gown. "Shall I help you dress now?"
The foyer was a buzz of activity when Katherine came downstairs, pulling on her long white satin gloves. Her heart thudded off-time for a just a moment when she saw the graying head and dark glasses of Timothy Wayneright, but she looked up and smiled as Gordon's voice called out above the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen, my lovely bride, Katherine." The assembled party broke into applause, and Katherine found herself blushing yet again as Gordon came to kiss her cheek.
"Good evening, everyone," she nodded. "Dr. Wayneright, it's good to see you again." She shook Wayneright's hand as the crowd moved into the drawing room just off the foyer.
"Katherine, you're a vision in that dress." He offered his arm as Gordon hung back to talk with a balding, heavy-set man with gold rings on every finger. "How are you faring your first day as chatelaine of this monstrosity?"
"Well, when I'm not receiving the shock of my life, I'm just fine. " At Wayneright's puzzled silence, Katherine leaned in close. "I met your daughter. She's my personal maid, you know."
Wayneright smiled. "So you've met the poor attempt of an old fool at bringing back his daughter," he murmured. "How did you find out?"
"Ah it…came up in conversation," Katherine ventured. "She's a marvel. I can't imagine the Memories you'd have to have to bring her to life."
Wayneright patted Katherine's hand. "Sometimes, my dear, memories are like nightmares. They appear when you least expect them." He turned as Gordon approached. "Here's the one you should be spending time with, not an old fool like me."
Gordon grinned, and Katherine mused that he did indeed cut a dashing figure in his pearl-gray dinner jacket. "You're not trying to steal her away from me, are you, Tim? I only just got her today."
"I wouldn't dream of it; you two belong together." Wayneright kissed Katherine's cheek. "I've got to go talk to Miguel. I'll see you both at dinner."
"So, how did you and Lotte get along?" Gordon asked as they walked among their guests.
The dinner bell chimed, and the group started to move en masse to the dining room. "I think she and I will get along splendidly," Katherine smiled.
After dinner, the dozen friends and associates of Gordon's enjoyed champagne in the rose garden. Amid colored lights that turned the landscaping into a fairyland, Gordon introduced Katherine to the guests. Included in the company was Miguel Soldano, the balding man she had seen earlier. He was an industrialist, she was told, who headed up a company that made electronic devices for use by the Military Police. When introductions, congratulations, and compliments were finished with Mr. Soldano, Katherine was introduced to a young man who shared a strong resemblance to Gordon.
"Katherine, I'd like you to meet my nephew, Alex. He couldn't make it to the wedding because he was holding down the fort for me at the corporate office."
"A pleasure to meet you," Alex smiled. "I'm glad that there'll be more to the family than just Gordon and myself." He winked at Gordon. "Maybe even some cousins soon, eh?"
Katherine willed herself not to blush; she was an adult now, and would soon be a woman in all the ways that mattered. "Maybe so," she volleyed back.
The evening wound to a close, and the guests were seen off in their elegant limousines, calling farewells and last congratulations. As Norman shut the door, Katherine wandered into the dim foyer, her footsteps echoing against the tile. "The party was a great success, ma'am," he said with a smile. "You charmed everyone in attendance, if I may be so bold to say."
Katherine smiled. "Thank you, Norman." She looked over her shoulder at the staircase. "Well, I suppose I should say goodnight. Would you please let Gordon know that I'll be expecting him shortly?"
Norman nodded, ever unshakable. "Of course, ma'am. Good night."
Picking up her skirts, Katherine rustled her way to the top of the stairs, then opened the door to her room. Lotte had laid out her pale yellow peignoir set on the settee, and candles shimmered from every surface.
Everything you say I will keep in strict confidence, Lotte's voice echoed in her mind.
A knock on the door brought her out of her reverie, and she turned to see Gordon enter the room, a stark pillar of masculinity in this den of womanhood. His eyes glimmered with the reflections of the candles, and a smile slowly crept across his handsome face.
"You are so very beautiful, Katherine."
She couldn't speak; instead, she removed her gloves, pulling them one finger at a time until their satiny length laid bare the creamy skin of her slender arms and hands. She removed her shoes, and the hem of her dress puddled slightly on the floor. She held out her hands to him, beckoning him closer.
His hands were on her bare shoulders, smoothing the skin with his callused hands. She reached up and loosened his tie, and he shrugged off his elegant jacket. His lips were in her hair, on her cheek, on her lips, and she felt her blood begin to race. His fingers found the zipper on her dress and took it down, so slowly that it was almost agony to Katherine. Gordon pressed himself into her; she could feel he was ready, and the thought nearly set her aflame. When did I become so wanton? She wondered blissfully.
"Katherine," he whispered against her neck. "My beautiful Katherine."