Waste the Day Away
Characters: Beth Chavez, Quentin Collins, Jenny Collins
Timelines: 1890s
Summary: Given the size and scope of the family home, Beth knew she should have been allowed to go about her affairs in peace. That was not to be.
It should have been easy to go about her business at Collinwood. This wasn't the first large home in which Beth had worked: combine a large house, a sizable but busy family, and multiple servants and you have a situation where even the attendants should be able to avoid anyone so long as their jobs were done.
But her lady, after a spell of wanting to be mostly alone, decided to rejoin the family during their daily activities. And Jenny had decided to promote Beth to be her constant companion, to sit beside her during certain family gatherings and provide a calming demeanor when needed.
Beth did what she was asked; she didn't have a choice. She sat through sewing circles, afternoon teas, and other minor events in the Collins women's afternoons. She intended to keep quiet but Jenny had the habit of pulling her into whatever discussion she was engaged in. Beth would stumble her way through the conversation, almost always keeping her eyes to the ground. It was the only way she could avoid Judith's exasperation or Laura's mirth with her answers.
She was grateful to be excused from family dinner, even if Edward's rejoinder to Jenny's request would have lodged bitterly in her mind under any other situation: "A servant hasn't sat at the family table in over a hundred and I will not be the first to allow it." It was an excuse to get away from them all and rush through the tasks left dangling by her days as a lading in waiting.
She only had around an hour to work through these things. As soon as the clock reached the hour mark, Quentin appeared at the door. "My dear wife requests your presence in the drawing room," he always said, voice almost cheerful.
Beth cringed at the thought. She ended up sitting between the two of them. Jenny would turn to her, friendly, and attempt to include her in whatever the conversation entailed. Quentin would use any excuse to lean close to her, accidentally touch her, and watch the crimson rise in her cheeks as she tried to maintain her composure.
"Mrs. Collins will be furious if I don't finish this," she always said. It was true: something inevitably fell through the cracks and needed to be finished before the day ended.
Quentin smiled and walked closer. He reached out and placed both hands on her shoulders. "Jenny will miss you. And so will I."
Beth did not look up. Snippets of his body moving closer, his mouth upon hers, and then moaning out into the night would flash into her mind whenever they were alone. She needed them to stop. She would tear away from him and head toward the door. "I don't know why I'm the only one to suffer this," she said through gritted teeth.
His footsteps resonated behind her and soon he was at her ear. "My dear, it is because you are so serious."
"If you cared about your wife, you would take it seriously too."
Beth walked away, always careful to keep a quick, even pace. If she heard his footsteps, she was going too slow.
