Maureen, Madam Scheffield's other daughter, sat on her bed carelessly tossing books into a bulky black trunk that stood at the foot of her bed.
"Careful, Miss Scheffield," I warned as I walked into the room with her breakfast tray, "books can be damaged easily."
"What does it matter?" she asked bitterly, continuing to toss her texts in, the unorganized pile growing taller then the trunk itself, and starting to spill onto the floor. With nothing else to throw in the general direction of her packing, Maureen looked up at me when I did not answer her question. "You know as well as I that the reason I am sent to the university every fall is so I will be out of the way. I am no fool." Angrily, she continued, "I am not the favorite, I know, but I hate going to study far away from here every fall."
I was about to comment that she said that every year when she left, but she cut me off. "I know I can come back every holiday, but that is not the same. Its been years since I was able to be here for the Spring Festival or the Celebration of the Leaves in fall. And I hate being in such a big city. I want to be here! Its not fair!"
"I am sorry miss," I mumbled. What else is there to say?
Maureen bitterly laughed. "Its because I am not like her, isn't it?"
Again, I couldn't respond. Maureen has always been my favorite of the family for the very reason she was so unlike the others. While she enjoyed the high life of being of nobility and the leisure and relaxation that came with it, she never was pompous or conceited about her station like her mother and sister. I stood there holding her breakfast plate, as Maureen rose from her bed and paced across the floor, unable to leave until I was dismissed. I however, was glad to be around to give whatever support I could.
She ran her hand through her light brown hair, deep in thought. After a prolonged silence, the only sound being the rustle of her skirts as she walked over and over across the floor of her room, she muttered, "I don't know why I am getting so upset. I go through this every year I am about to set off for school." Smiling sadly, she looked around after finally stopping in the middle of her room, then added, "I just wish I didn't have to leave. Why can't she see that I love it here? The quaint village, the parks, the mountains in the landscape, everything. The city is so different. Its always busy and there is never a moment of peace. I am at peace here."
"I am sorry," I repeated, feeling dumb not being able to add more.
Maureen shook her head, "Its not something you would understand, is it?"
"What do you mean?" I inquired suddenly puzzled, still standing with her breakfast plate in her room's entry way.
"Nevermind," she quickly said, then added "I don't feel like eating. You can return that to the kitchen now." Then she kneeled beside her trunk, and attempted to organize the towering contents so they'd all fit.
I remained in the door. "Miss Scheffield," I said hesitantly, knowing full well I was out of my station, "I would really like to know what you meant when you said I wouldn't understand."
Book in hand, Maureen paused, and then let out a breath. Looking up at me, she just stated, "You don't seem like the type to want to study." With that, she went back to packing. "Please return that to the kitchen and tell my mother I'll meet her for lunch." I knew a hint when I heard it, and gave a slight curtsey as I carried out the tray. I couldn't help wondering why she'd think I wasn't the type to go to a university and study. I would love to go to school and learn! But circumstance did not give me much of a chance to study. My mother taught me to read and and enough math to get by in the village market, and even that was without the knowledge of the mistress of the house. I knew I would never see the inside of a school and was suddenly envious. Especially so, since Maureen didn't even want to go!
Cook saw me walk in with Maureen's plate. "Poor dear," she clucked, "She does this every year."
"I don't see what her problem is," I commented testily, " I would give anything to get away from here and go to school. She doesn't know what she has and the opportunities given to her on a plate! I would give anything to be in her place! Its not fair!" That phrase again. How many times do say it a day? Cook shook her head and echoed the words my mother said day after day in my youth, "Life isn't fair, child. You have to just live with what you have and move on."
"I know that," I said suddenly angered, "Everyday I know that! That doesn't mean I can't be resentful. I didn't ask for this!!"
"Calm, dearie," she hushed me, "you don't want the mistress hearing you, do you?" I shook my head and she patted my hand, "Good girl. Now take a deep breathe, smile, then deliver these to Madam Scheffield and Miss Camille. They should be awake by now." She then handed me 2 trays with toast and strawberry jam on it.
-----
Later that day, I was sent back to Maureen's room on Madam Scheffield's orders, to encourage Maureen to come down for dinner, since she had already missed lunch. "She can be such a pain," I heard Camille complain over her dinner plate as I walked out, "I don't see what her..." Her voice ceasing as the dinning room door shut behind me.
"Tell her I will not be making an appearance tonight." Maureen was sitting in her high backed chair, staring out her bedroom window, not even looking at me. There was a book opened on her lap.
"She only cares for your health," I urged, "its not good to miss every meal in a day."
She didn't move, or give any response to hearing what I said. "She is you mother! And its your last day here."
"Isn't that her fault?" She didn't move from her spot. Then her voice grew more authoritative, "Now just tell her I will not grace them with my appearance tonight!"
I continued to stand in her entry way. I could tell she sensed my presence because she no longer sat straight and rigid like in a trance. Like I thought, she commented, "I would think you'd know what an order was when it was given to you."
"If you won't do it for your mother, do it for me? I worry about your welfare." My voice wavered, afraid that I went too far out of my station.
She laughed at me from her chair, and she rose from her seat, now holding her book. "And why would a servant care for my health? I would think you'd hate me and revel in my misery."
"There is already too much hate in the world, don't you think miss."
She was silent for a minute and then gave a heavy, frustrated sigh. "If I go to dinner, will you leave me alone?"
I curtseyed, "Yes miss."
She laughed bitterly again, and went down the stairs. I was about to turn and leave too, but then paused and looked at the book Maureen had held and now lay on her bed. The cover was a red dyed leather and the pages worn and yellowed. The title suggested that is was on the monarchs of the kingdom. Now fascinated, I sat on her bed and began reading. I didn't understand a lot of the words, my vocabulary not being as refined as Maureen's, but I managed to stumbled through page after page of the book with adequate understanding. It had been many years, maybe even before my mother died, that I read a book. It seemed so right in my hands.
I didn't mean to spend all dinner time in her room reading, but I couldn't put the book down, like it was adhered to my palms. I wasn't missed by the mistress, though the dinner plates had to be cleaned off by Cook because I was absent from the kitchen when the other's left the dinner table to talk in the parlor. It wasn't until I heard footsteps up the stairs that I remembered where I was. Quickly dropping the book back on Maureen's bed, I rose from her bed and about to dash out when I ran face to face with the older Scheffield daughter.
"What are you doing in my room?" Maureen spat at me.
I mumbled an incoherent response, so afraid she would tell her mother or sister. My hands started to shake whe I pointed to her bed as I tried to explain I was reading her book.
"Stop your babbling and tell me what you are doing in here!"
"I...." pointing to her bed again, "I... was just reading.... your book." Her angered expression didn't change and I grew more frightened, now wondering what would happen to me when Madam Scheffield found out that not only did I miss duties, I was reading a book of her daughter's without any permission? "I am sorry!" I stammered desperately, "please don't tell your mother. I didn't mean it! I wanted to read a book, Just once."
Her cold blue eyes softened a little. "Why would I tell my mother? Like I care how delinquent a servant of hers is. Just get out of my room!" She pointed to the door way.
I managed a much thankful squeak, and walked passed Maureen as she entered and the door slammed behind me. At least Madam Scheffield wouldn't know. As long as Cook didn't tell her. Hurrying into the kitchen, worried that she might have turned me in, I found Cook scrubbing the dishes I should be cleaning. "Cook, I am sorry," I managed to gasp, then grabbed the scrubbing brush, "I just lost tract of time."
Cooked smiled grandmotherly at me, "I understand child. Just don't let it happen okay, now. You hear?"
Nodding, with a sigh of relief, I resumed my daily chores of the night.
-----
Maureen left for the university the next morning at dawn. As I and the other servants waved from the lawn, Madam Scheffield and Camille dined inside for an early breakfast. I couldn't help thinking how heartless that was of them. Their own daughter and sister, and she would be gone for months until the first break from classes. Maybe I'll never understand these nobles. Maybe my mother was right in leaving them all... no, that is not true. Nobility is far better then the state I am in.
Before returning to the house to clean up after the Scheffield's breakfast, I went into my little room to pick up my work apron. There on my bed I found Maureen's book, where I left off in it marked with a piece of pink ribbon.