"Pardon me, ma'am, but there's something I should like to discuss with you, if you have a moment." Miss Shingle had come to retrieve the tea tray from the drawing room, and she now addressed the blonde woman who sat comfortably in the armchair.
"Certainly, what is it?" replied Sibella.
"Forgive me for being so forward, but I have known for some time that you are in love with Lord Navarro. And unless I am sorely mistaken, you are also in love with the Countess. As, I believe, she is with you."
Sibella felt her stomach drop seemingly to the floor as she desperately tried to conceal her panic. "I'm afraid I don't understand…" she responded, as though she were somehow confused by Miss Shingle's frank declaration.
"All due respect, Mrs. Holland, but I think you do understand," said Miss Shingle with a warm smile. "No need to fear, I won't be running off to tell anyone."
"Are you insinuating that I am not only having an affair with Lord Navarro, but that I am also in love with his wife?"
"Beggin' your pardon ma'am, but I believe it is the truth."
Sibella laughed then, but her smile did not quite reach her eyes. "My dear Miss Shingle, I'm afraid that's preposterous for several reasons, but the leading one being that it is quite impossible for a woman to fall in love with another woman."
"I'm afraid I must disgree with you there, Mrs. Holland. You see, I can personally attest to the fact that it is entirely possible, and happens more often than one would be led to believe."
Sibella was truly unnerved now. Fearing what Shingle might say next, she tried a different tactic. "Miss Shingle, this is entirely too forward of you. First you accuse me of having an affair with Lord Navarro, and then you speculate that I have a similarly questionable relationship with the Countess? What kind of woman do you think I am? This simply will not be tolerated." Sibella stood up from her chair and drew herself up to her full height, placing her several inches above the older woman.
"I meant no offense, madame, I brought it up only to assure you that while you are under this roof you are safe and that you are not alone."
"Whatever do you mean by not alone?" Sibella could not believe the gall of this woman, to walk into the room like she owned the place and strike up a conversation of this nature.
"Not alone in loving another woman, that is," spoke Miss Shingle as if that clarified things.
"If you are about to imply that the Countess-"
"No, madame, I was referring to myself."
Sibella paused in her prepared defense of Phoebe, taken aback by Miss Shingle's statement. "Yourself?"
"Yes, ma'am. I know that it is indeed possible for a woman to fall in love with another woman because I myself have loved another woman. And I love her still, in a way."
Sibella was nearly speechless. "W-who…"
"Oh, don't you worry about that. My point is that I am of the opinion that a woman should be allowed to love whomever she pleases, no matter what their sex. Or their marital status, for that matter. Rest assured, Mrs. Holland, this information does not leave this room. The next anniversary of my employment at Highhurst castle will be forty-one years. I've seen many people do many things under this roof, and I have served them faithfully regardless. If I may say so," said the older woman, leaning in slightly. "It's good to see some true love here." With a smile, Miss Shingle bobbed a tiny curtsey and turned to leave.
"Oh, and Mrs. Holland," Shingle added, near the door. "The next time you spend the night in the master bedroom with the Earl and Countess, you needn't worry about returning to your own bedroom. I shall bring the breakfast tray up myself so that no one else need know."
"Thank you, Miss Shingle," replied Sibella breathlessly, finding that the older woman had torn down all of her defenses, leaving her virtually powerless. "That's… that's very kind of you, and will save me a great deal of trouble. And please, call me anything but 'Mrs. Holland'. As long as we're being truthful, I despise that name."
"Very well then," Miss Shingle nodded. "Good afternoon, Miss Sibella."
"Good afternoon, Miss Shingle."
The older woman gave another small curtsey and left the room carrying the tea tray, making sure the door shut behind her. Sibella sat down hard in her chair, absolutely shocked. She remained there for some time, attempting to process the conversation.
Later that night, Marietta Shingle sat on the edge of her bed upstairs in the servants' quarters. In her lap sat a book of poetry, the pages yellowing and the dark green of the cover fading with time, and in her hand was a photograph. A young woman sat posed in a chair, smiling at the camera.
Miss Shingle brushed a tear from her cheek as she smiled back at the woman in the photograph. Opening the book to return the snapshot to its place between the first page and the front cover, she paused momentarily to run her finger gently over the name inscribed on the paper of the first page.
"Isobel D'Ysquith" was still clearly legible, the handwriting clear and elegant. She closed the book softly, the photograph tucked inside, and placed it back in the drawer of her nightstand. Blowing out the candle, the room was plunged into darkness as she settled in her bed and closed her eyes.