When Arthur Sharpe returned to the bedroom he found his wife asleep. Now in the calm after the storm he regretted everything. He has lost his temper and it was his son who had paid the consequences. His son, after all, after ten years. Ten years he had waited, tried, prayed, held hope, failed again and again. The guilt rested heavy on him, compressing his chest, making it difficult to breath. It was not fair, life was not fair, never had been for the Sharpes. He walked to the bed, leaving a tender kiss in his wife's forehead. When she was exhausted like that, one could said she looked helpless, but he knew her character as he knew there was something wicked in the woman disposition. He dropped himself on the antechamber couch after grabbing some stationary, ink and pen to write the letters Abbott will deliver in the morning to the Referral Office for hiring the new maids.
"Please do take care of the children, I'll attend Agnes myself", The Master had said to Nana and Adelaide, while standing on the kitchen. The lot looked tired, including Lucille who also displayed a sleepy face. It had been a long day, and it had not ended yet. The older women were grateful to be released of one of the charges, so they settled in the nursery taking turns to rest and carrying the child, dipping his lips with the milk to bribe him to nourish.
Little Lucille almost fell asleep nestled beside Adelaide, her hand caressing the baby trough the blanket, rubbing his back gently. When the sisters switched positions once more, Lucille stirred.
"Can I hold him?" She asked to Nana who was receiving the child in her arms.
"Well I think...' A thought had been taking root in her mind for the last twenty minutes. "I think we can try something different, to maintain this little one alive"
Adelaide straighten herself up, her back stiffed for the lack of proper rest. Proper rest at short term was out of the table. As things were developing, she was not sure if the mother was ready in strength or mind to take care for her newborn.
"Adelaide, remember little Travis?"
"The boy of Will Barron's first wife?"
"That one, the mother died in childbirth leaving the man alone with the boy in that harsh winter. Will himself carried the child under his shirt, he kept on walking the sheep everyday, with the child warm under his clothes. Abbott saw him more than once then. He said the boy was warm as a beating heart. The very same same doctor agreed it was the reason the boy had made it".
"Yes, but I don't think the Mistress-"
"No, not the Mistress, this one" She said pointing to Lucille.
"But she is just a child"
"Exactly, and she already loves him so much"
"Maybe she can give strength to her brother, maybe that's what he needs"
Adelaide was incredulous, "I.."
"Stop, don't say anything, let's give it a try" Nana will not take an opinion against in the matter, so far the boy was only getting weak, his body as cold as a snowflake. "Lucille dear, Can you stay very quite while holding him? He is too frail yet"
"Yes, Nana I won't move" She girl said, her senses awakening.
"I see, come here" Nana undressed the girl leaving her in underclothes.
The girl watched with curiosity while Nana set a pile with the pillows, accommodating it under her back. She was almost in sitting position, but it was comfy. Nana throw a blanket over her, followed by the bedspread. The baby was carefully slipped in under the covers and over Lucille's chest. The blanket that wrapped up the tiny body was removed just enough to allow his skin to may contact with his sister's bare chest. She could feel the warm of his body, the almost imperceptible rise and low of his breathing, and his heartbeat, a fainted pulsation but still a little faster than her own heartbeat. She hugged him carefully, and resumed the massaging of the baby's back.
The older housekeeper wrapped her up so no warm escaped from the bundle. Lucille's chin rested over the baby's head. In that moment, she felt blessed and doubted anyone else in the world could feel more alive, especially not any adult. She had asked for another child to made her company, to play with and be her friend, someone to be with her, just for her, as the woman on the story had wished for a son. She had spoken up aloud, kneeled next to her bed, both hands together as Miss Paige had showed her. While holding her little Thomas for real, she knew she has been listened.
When Nana had told that her mother was expecting a child she could not contain her emotion. Without thinking she had run when she heard the nursery's door opening. She had clung to her mother's dress in an attempt to hug her legs, and she hugged so hard. At first the mother was startled, about to demand explanations to her 3 years and a half old daughter. For once, her mother crusted demeanor softened after listening to the governess explanation, and then she tenderly hugged the girl. At last the child was there, with her, and he was perfect in her eyes. Two months ago she had wanted it to be a sister, but a boy as perfect as this will do more than fine. A knight, a prince, a noble gentleman, she had thought. She dreamed with swords brandished against dragons, and lovely dances until shoes wasted up, and dress up plays, and cookies broken by the half to share. He was born on her birthday, it was the best birthday present she could imagine. But the best was, that he was her little brother, hers literally. Father had given him to her, instead to allow the doctor to take him away. She had been bestowed to take care of him, not Nana, not Adelaide, not mother, her. And she will be there for him always, to love and to protect, and he will always love her. The pair had fell asleep, and after a while, when Nana tried again to feed the child she couldn't believe the outcome. She used a dropper, and the child lips moved to suck the milk, if faintly. He drank the whole content, the equivalent of a teaspoon, but still a huge advance. She tried again, the child accepting the milk.
"Adelaide, look" Nana told. Her sister awaken to see the boy.
"It's a miracle", Adelaida told in surprise.
"Indeed. I had hope and faith for this to work"
"The lord acts in mysterious and unexpected ways" Adelaide added.
"Dear child, dear child", Nana repeated, "this is a miracle of faith and love". She kissed Lucille's forehead. The girl opening her eyes in drowsiness followed by wonder when realized the motive of the celebration.
In the morning, Nana had made breakfast, but the Master, true to his word, had served and carried the tray himself, taking the task to see that his wife take the meal.
After the good doctor had checked on the boy and expressed satisfaction with his progress, Nana went to speak with the Master. Trying to spread her faith without success.
"Don't get so high expectations Nana. He is been alive for night, it doesn't mean the risk had passed." He was irritated, he had already dealt with his wife's morning indifference.
"But there is hope Master, you'll see"
"I'll see him later" He wanted to said 'There is always hope' as his mother used to say. But hope was something that wasn't always with him. He had lost it so many times, as so many times he had strayed his path and made mistakes.
Nana went to the room to pick up the tray, stopping in the antechamber in her way back. She stopped there, getting closer to the man standing like an insecure child.
"What?" He asked.
"The Mistress..?"
"What about her?"
"She wants to see the child"
He stood up, looking at her with hesitation. "Well then... tell Adelaide to bring the boy"
When he went back into the room, he was pleased that Agnes looked better despite of her attitude. Still, her inscrutable countenance gave little away.
"How do you feel?" He asked, just to test the grounds.
"Better", she said. Her expression void of any emotion.
"I sent request already for three new maids, to help Nana and Adelaide with the house and the children. They will be under your supervision. Please be kind to not dismiss them in a whim, because as much as Nana and her sister will die serving us without complaining, they are not physically as strong as they used to be. They cannot take care of everything".
She looked at him inspecting his body language, trying to decipher what he was not saying. A knock on the door. I was not closed, but Adelaide just wanted to announce herself. She advanced carrying the baby in her arms, and an extra pair of hands holding onto her skirt, moving with her like a shadow. She got closer, allowing the Mistress to see the child.
Agnes felt perturbed, she couldn't believed, she had seen the children she had birth dead, those where lifeless but fully formed. This one on the contrary... looked awkward, the head too big for the body, the body too meager, a rag doll of a child. His eyes where closed and swollen, and he did make a sound like a whimpering kitten, not a cry but definitely and expression of discomfort.
"Would you like to hold him Mistress?"
She would not dare, it looked awkward. She moved her head in rejection.
"Take it away, I don't want to-", 'look at him' she thought, but she didn't speak up that part.
Adelaide had took her leave, but Lucille remained in indignation.
"Thomas! His name is Thomas" She said aloud, and then ran away off the room to catch Adelaide.
Back in the nursery she cried and calmed herself, mopping her tears in her apron, asking Adelaide be allowed to hold his baby brother.
"Why she doesn't like him?, neither father"
"Don't say that child. The Masters are going trough difficult times and they are afraid the baby doesn't have the strength to keep on"
"But he does have it, I'm taking care of him", the girl insisted.
"Oh, that you do child, and you are an angel for that. You'll see, let him grow just a little and your mother and father will only have eyes for him"
"No, he is only mine, I love him from the beginning"
Again, they were both wrapped up, comfortably placed in the middle of the bed and surrounded by pillows.
"Will you two be fine if I'm going to get some more milk for Master Thomas?"
"We will, I won't move a single bit" She smiled, forgetting the coldness of her mother toward the baby.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Is that what you look for in other women's flesh, the proper son I can not provide you?"
"Don't be stupid woman" He tried to spoke calmly but there was already bad temper in his tone.
"I see now, why this one is not suitable to carry your name, a freak"
"He is not a freak, is just premature"
"It will not live much, will he?"
"He may as well. He could use HIS MOTHER care and concern, to help it"
"Will he be feeble of the mind?"
"If you have a point with this questioning, then I beg you to speak it plainly"
"Why did you spare him if is not good enough for you?"
"I didn't say-! I cannot take his live away, he was born alive!", 'unlike the others' he thought. He paced in circles around the room, 'Calm down, calm down' he repeated to himself without voicing the words.
"It is god's choice, not mine" He finally spoke in a more quiet tone.
"And it was... 'god's choice'... that you fucked the governess under my nose. NO, that was your choice. Then tell me whose choice it was that you beat me, causing the labor to end out of time. You are a beast! You are the sinner and you went against me for telling the truth on your bared face. I'm not the one in fault here, I did nothing, and you pretend I... What? Ignored your infidelity? Allowed her to stay? For how long Arthur, how many times? That boy as it is, dead or alive, stupid or sick, he is the punishment for your sins and I don't care, it is your fault. YOUR FAULT! Let him be a reminder of your shame."
"Stop it!"
"Or what? What else can you do to break me, that you haven't already!"
"You tempt me to act as I do with your every word! WHY?"
"Because I thought you could somehow get to love me as I loved you, but you never tried, never even tried, all this years. And god pray punish me if I ever let your filthy hands over my body again. You may lay with all the whores you want, but not under this roof, not as long as I live here. And don't you dare to breed any bastard child, for I will never allow any of them to set a foot in this house nor carry your name. If is for the boy to die, so it will be end of the Sharpe family name".
"Enough, Enough I said! You are poison, how can you expect any one to love you, you are but a selfish cruel woman".
"Then I'm glad to disappoint you again, for the only thing you have always wanted has been denied to you. Five dead sons and one like that, that's exactly what you deserve".
Before she ended her tirade he already had closed the space between them. The backhand was blown with enough force to imprint his weeding ring on her face, the Sharpe's family emblem was stamped on her right cheek.
"I'll made arrangements for you and the children, Irving will keep on checking the boy's health... and yours. The money won't be a worry, all the accounts are already covered. I'll leave the contacts in case-".
"So you are leaving" It was not a question.
"I'll leave in a few days, after check that everything is settled. I have to, or else I won't restrain for what I may do to you if you keep tantalizing me this way".
"Go, run away you coward!" She yelled between tears that had started to fall already.
He wanted to raise his closed fist against her, but he did not allow his rage to take control this time. He just wanted to put distance between himself and the venomous woman he had married.
It had been an arranged marriage, his father was then alive and had settled up with the father's bride. They where old acquaintances, not friends though. The Sharpes will mitigate their business losses, that hadn't been able to make it for the uprising costs of the house repairs. He had spoken to the old man, to sell the state and moved into the city, he can work as accountant there. He was not build for the mining hardships, and there where only the two of them after his mother had passed away. But the man will hear none about that, Allerdale was to be tended by the Sharpes. He won't sell it, nor leaving under the care of a third. Arthur didn't want to trouble his father, as the man was already sick. The only son of Jacob and Louise Sharpe had born when her parents where in advanced age, and so he knew he will lose them early. Still he was not prepared for it. He loved them both, the old man deeply. He had agreed to his father proposal, he will made the man proud and take his place as Master of the state. After all, maybe things could change for better with a family of his own by his side.
Mr. William Graeme was pleased to give his oldest daughter into other man's charge, as he was himself ill in a terminal state. She had tended him, giving away her dreams, and it was time for him to ensure she will be cared after he died. Seven daughters, six them had married in the bloom of womanhood, but the first one remained untouched. The years had not been gentle on her, she conducted herself with a sharp demeanor, and old virgin like a wasted soil.
Arthur had been 25, a young stallion in the paramount of life, she had been almost ten years older, the difference was notable in energy and experience. Unusual indeed. He married a woman, but still she blushed like a teenager loosing her virginity in her wedding night. He accepted the proof, but despite of it, a brisk of uncertainty had always remained in his very deep thoughts. she was not angelical beauty, but she was not ugly either, just a little plain and vapid he would said.
When she flourished from child to youth, she had been laid with a heavy burden. She had practically raised her three younger sisters, the last born when she was 15 causing the mother death. Her family was not over wealthy, but they were wealthy enough. Without will nor official statement, the teen inherited the responsibility of the house, the maids, a baby, two toddlers and three girls mourning their mother on their own way, while his father was on the family parcel tending the business.
The Graeme parcel was laborious, located far at the west of the Lakes while the family lived on Carlisle. Agnes father had spend more time on the country after his wife's death. He said he could see her wife's ghost in the dark corners of the house. They had move from the city three years later, and then the man got obsessed in presenting his daughters on society, so they young ladies could caught the interest of good prospectors. Finally, when the age, the tobacco and the chemicals used in the mining process took his lungs, he feared for the future of his first daughter. He had sold the land, using no small part of the money to invest on fulfill his last wish. To ensure none of his daughters be left unattended after he passed away. He granted a not modest dowry for Agnes, to make the bride more desirable. He was glad a good arrangement had been settled, the fiance Arthur E. Sharpe, was heir of Allerdale state, educated and able enough to provide for his future wife. His father, Jacob Sharpe, has been known an honest man, true to his word, not always luck for the businesses, but always in dearest love for his family.
Arthur married following his father advice. Even knowing the comments that circulated about 'the old virgin' as she was so-called in the more private social gatherings, the kind that involved respectable gentlemen being delighted by paid female entertainment. Arthur and Irving had ended up entangled in such environments in a few occasions. Then they had listen the story in which the father was the one that had turned down the girl suitors, because of all his daughters the first one was the lively image of her mother. The father treasured her dearly and looked at her with more that fatherly eyes. When liquor consumption affected young men's minds, it was also said that the father's sin had taken root in the girl at early age, but the proof had been removed leaving her infertile, and so the old degenerate has been able to proceed his ways. What of that had been truth or made up it didn't matter to Arthur. He had not married in love, but he had been pure lust nonetheless. He enjoyed to have a woman to appease his needs, as frequent as they arisen. He filled her incessantly, and when she got pregnant on the first year of marriage he was elated, procuring all the attentions to his wife. The drunken men talk had been more than forgotten, and Arthur had turn fists up against anyone who dared to spoke ill of his wife. Even Irving had got a broken nose once. At least on that, he had never retreated.
But sex was not all in a marriage, and time and dead filled both souls with pain an resentment. He had got drunk and sometimes he had beaten her. If not so frequent, it was usually hard enough to leave her indisposed for a few days, wailing in pain and shame. At the beginning, she lowered her head. And no matter what, she always allowed him in her body, as it was her duty, sometimes, needy, others painful, some pure lust. She accepted to be isolated in that horrid manor, a prisoner without bars and manacles. She grew tired of the failure and disappointment, he was stubborn and immature, and she failed in trying to conceive a child. Five times she new the pain of loss. Her heart grew cold, her body stiff, her mood sour, and her tongue surly. Her patient extinguished as puddles dried by the sun. Not even a drop was left for her daughter.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Lucille watched the carriage move away with her father on it. In the past it had caused her anguish, but not anymore. Now she had Thomas, and she cannot be childish because it was her responsibility, she told herself so. She was a child, but she was far from childish. Mister Sharpe had noticed so, maybe because she was mostly by herself, no other children to play, surrounded by adults. He had been only child too, but there were different times then. He had noticed also that Agnes was not overly affectionate with the child, as if she deeply regretted it was a girl. Lucille was nonetheless his firstborn child, and so she will become a properly educated lady. He had set his mind into send her to a boarding school when she reached the age of eight. There she will be teach manners, religion, language, reading, writing, knitting and painting. Meanwhile, he will allocate a new governess or a tutor, an older woman or a man, to avoid his wife insecurities to manifest shamefully. But now, those things will have to wait, as only time could help them all. For him, to be in peace with his mind, for Agnes to regain her mental sanity and appease her nerves, for the girl to grow more, and for the boy to be. Just to be alive and healthy, Was it much to ask for? Whatever destiny had in plan for the Sharpes, only time would tell. He was not escaping, he would be of no help if staying, on the contrary. Until his return he would be restless everyday, afraid to find a letter informing his the worst. The Lord knew he had no the strength to bury another son. Lucille climbed off from the window, settling herself next to the baby. Her eyes brighten when she looked at him. She new it won't be easy to care for the baby, but she was determined.
The winter was soon to come and the weather can be harsh. Sometimes the roads became impassable, leaving the state in isolation. Agnes knew December will come an gone, no parties nor celebrations in Allerdale Hall. Nana will hang some decorations to cheer up the mood, specially in the nursery. She had told so while tending to the Mistress, "We should lift up our spirits Mistress, after all this is going to be the baby's first Christmas". But her Mistress was not in favor, she had say that it may also be the last baby's Christmas, and it didn't made sense to lift up the girls hopes just to break her heart when fate decided so. And it will, she was sure of that, after all hadn't she been thrilled when she had stepped in Allerdale Hall as Mister Arthur Sharpe's wife? But that rotten place, it digested its inhabitants like a giant fly, trapping its prays in his innards, sucking the life of them slowly and unnoticed. That's was how she felt. While Arthur traveled getting free of the house yoke, she was condemned to remain there, alone, and when he at last returned it was not better.
She remembered how she used to wait expectantly for the letter informing the that her husband will return to the state. She had hurried the maids to prepare everything that will ensure him a pleasurable reception. The main hall was cleaned up, and all the dirt was shaken from the stairs frames, a fine meal with all the courses prepared to be served in the dining hall. She bathed in scented oils of lavender or sandalwood, the ones that had been given to her as one of her wedding presents. She remembered how, her carefully planned romantic night had been reduced to a rough intercourse, no foreplay, no intimacy, no cuddling. She had cried herself to sleep alone in the huge bed, after her husband had walked out to the study to prepare documents regarding the management of the state or the mining labors. In her mind, childish illusions had no place. Yes, she and Arthur had have their good times, in which they had let loose their desires and needs, he had ravaged all the senses of her body and she had shuddered on the verge of a paroxysm. Those moment she still treasured, but they were a pure expression of the animal human nature, all physical, not built up from their emotions, or in many cases impulsed only by rage. Fairy tales, romance, love, were not but utopias and lies, and so she was determined to not encourage that nonsense in her daughters' mind.
She had noticed the advocacy the little girl demonstrated toward the baby. Poor Lucille will learn about broken dreams on the hardest way, when the infant died. Life was not fair, was it? It would be better to learn that at an early age. Especially because it was even harder when one have been born a female. She was not senseless, but she had prayed for the lord to take the child if he was destined to be no more that a burden. Of that she had already enough, almost all her life. But then she though, if the boy improves it will be a good omen, and he may be able to grow in good health. Maybe her heart was not completely locked and it may allow some joy from her children, for her children.
For the little Sharpe Masters, it was good that their mother wasn't interested in frequenting the nursery. Agnes had stopped to do so after her fifth loss. She had invested so much time and effort in preparing that place for her first baby. The labor started with normalcy, but extended too much. When the baby finally arrived it was already dead. A second one was conceived in short notice, increasing the risk of a premature delivery. On the seventh month, the labor had started one morning, and by night she was crying another dead boy. Nine years of marriage and five stillborn, each one took his toll in Agnes health and sanity. Nine years in that old house, her husband distancing more and more. There was also the blame, they both put the blame in each other shoulders, a barren woman, and uncaring husband, and of course it was also the house. The house borne her secrets, her pains, her moments of joy nobody else had witnessed. It nurtured itself from all that happened to them, stealing their happiness and rejoicing on tragedy. Still, it was in was in Allerdale Hall where she had fell in love for Arthur.
Arthur and Agnes had meet each other as young in more than one occasion, when their parents had attended to society parties. The first time she had seen him, he was but an eight years old child, sneaking under the table to steal the wine in a Christmas reception a Bolton & Barnes Investments. She had noticed the child with curiosity and he had dared to ask her to dance, as if she will dance with a child, less one that obviously had taken alcohol for the first time in his live and was clumsy and grinning. She sure had laughed, when his father pull him by the ear out of the hall. The second time, he was fifteen and he sure had put his eyes on Agnes younger sisters, who contrary to Agnes had demonstrated interest in mingling with the marriageable young gentlemen. The third time she remembered it in great detail, it has been in Allerdale Hall.
At twenty, Arthur was far grown from a foolish child, and he looked much older and mature, even if he truly wasn't. His voice was deep, his body fit and tall, strong built, deep dark hair and gray eyes than watched the young women with lascivious interest. He had danced with her. He had bet to dance with every woman in the party, and he had done so. At first, Agnes had not paid attention to him i particular, but sure she had notice that the young man got a lot of attention from some of the ladies. She was startled when he offered his hand, asking her to dance. He had nodded, not sure she can articulate a response. He had hold her in strong arms and guided her with security on the dance floor. His twirls making her feel as she was floating over the clouds. His eyes brighten and he looked only at her while they danced. He thanked her bowing his head with a tricky smile, but he changed his mind when he saw two young girls approaching to him with giggles. To avoid the pair he extended Agnes an invitation to see the night sky in the terrace. It was a night without moon, specially suitable for star-gazing. He had been a gentleman, speaking kindly and pointing at the constellations for her. They talked for a while feeling comfortable with each other. When they returned to the hall, he thanked for her company and kissed the back of her hand. She never had received that kind of attention before. The rest of the night he spent it chatting with his friends and other acquaintances, and she spent it listening to void women's conversations while trying to pass unnoticed in her furtive glances toward Arthur Edward Sharpe.
She will never have guessed that she will married him one day. Neither that she will stand on the same hall where they had danced, and he will offered his hand to her in a very different way. She barely remember the discussion that preceded, except that she had been insistent in traveling with him. He had denied for a thousand time. They had been married for almost a year, and it didn't make sense for her that he will travel to France alone, spending the next two months by himself. They could travel together, after all, they had not taken a proper honeymoon, and wouldn't be lovely to spend a couple of days together in the city of Paris. It was a business trip, he had said. Unfortunately, Agnes' mood had been swinging between extremes on that week, finally exposing her fears and doubts in an accusatory way. In a blind moment of rage, he had raised his hand against her for the first time.
It had been the house the silent witness, of her first split lip and the many that follow, of her tears spilling out while the taste of blood lingered on her mouth, of how Arthur had took here by force right after beating her. A few days later she had felt indisposed and the doctor had been called, an old friend of Arthur. He congratulated her husband, for she was at least three months advanced in her pregnancy. The travel had been postponed, and her husband had been again the man she had fell in love.
While things changed for good or bad, the manor had been the only constant in Agnes new life as Mrs. Sharpe. Always remaining, ready for witness another generation of Sharpes to suffer under its rotten walls. She believed the house was alive, it breathed and sensed all that happened in his grounds, and she felt terrified, living in the monster's belly. Sometimes, she wished it to sink deep into the grounds, burying all the memories with it.
She avoided the third floor because it make her soul gloomy. The place where she had spent so much devotion, only to remain empty and empty again. Then the girl had born and took possession of the place. It didn't feel right for Agnes, it was no place for her. There, were she had make up so many scenarios, memories that will never came to be. She had cried there, a lot, it had been her safe place. Five times Arthur had left her to grieve alone, and five times she had secluded herself there. The maids tried to convince her out, but they had given up and delivered her meals there. The nursery was a stolen sanctuary, and her heart couldn't find joy in the girl she was allowed to birth alive. She was an intruder in her life, staining the lovely furniture and cushions with her little dirty hands, taking was it must had been for her baby boys. While Lucille repeated the same pray for fourth time she had peaked on the cradle to see a little bald head with closed eyes. The boy had gained some weight, still his body was lean and meager, the clothes fitted too big. She tried to have some hope for the child wellness, maybe he still will be able to bring her some redemption in her husband eyes. Even though, it had not arisen in her the desire to interact with the boy, she didn't want to hold it, so she left the room after briefly addressing her daughter.
The doctor had told Nana it was normal, most woman can be depressive after childbirth, rejecting the child for a while. The old maid had thought that was one of those luxuries that only wealthy people could afford. Her mother, for example, had birth eight children, and when you have a bunch if kids to tend, with a full pregnant belly, a pile of clothes to wash to help an extra penny for your family, and a husband that work from dusk to dawn and came back home with a sore back, cracked lips, and splinters on his feet, well it is difficult to find time to seat and rest, even less to get depressive for anything. But then again, it was not her place to voice her opinion, and that was the reason she had been able to made a long live under the roof of Allerdale Hall.
Mister Sharpe didn't came home for Christmas, and that unsettled the Mistress as well. No matter how long her husband was apart or how decadent their relation had turned, he never had been absent during Christmas. He always had returned with presents for her and even for the oldest housekeepers. Since Lucille was born, he always had bring presents and sweets to spoil the child. It was had been a cold winter, and the kids remained in the nursery to keep them as warm as possible. She had seen them once a week. She has been there briefly. Checking on the girl mostly. She has been teaching her prayers and make the child repeat to memorize them. For Lucille it was more like a penance. Her mother went mad and make her repeat all again from the beginning if she made any mistake.
"Enough of this Lucille, it is clear you are not putting enough effort to learn"
"I cannot remember all the words, mother" The girl pleaded.
"Come with me, now" She ordered.
But the girl resisted, unwilling to leave her brother behind. Her mother pulled her up by the shoulder.
"No. Thomas!" Again Lucille objected, trying to make physical resistance.
"Oh, no, you will not make tantrum, and I'm not your father to tolerate it"
The quarrel ended will Lucille sobbing in a corner of the second floor bathroom, stood up against the wall, facing to the tiles, repeating the sentences her mother spoke aloud, again and again, while mother took a bath.
For two hours after her mother had finished, she didn't dared to move. The child had been forgotten. Two hours later, Nana finally came to take her to the nursery. It was cold and Nana placed her in front of the heating. She had ate the bowl of hot soup voraciously. After that, she had asked her to wrap Thomas with her.
"He must be cold too, all noon alone".
"Not alone child, I myself tended him. He had ate twice and even made a little flurry"
"Did he?" She asked, excitement blinking trough big open eyes.
"Oh, yes he did. Didn't you Master Thomas? He will have everyone in this house chasing after him in no time"
"Not mother"
"Dear child, I won't bet money on that, she used to be more lively and happier before"
"Before what?"
"Oh, nothing. Old woman nonsense. Won't you like your mother to be running all over the house behind a smelly boy who throw his toys all around Allerdale Hall? Wouldn't that be funny?
"She will get mad and punish Thomas, I won't allow it"
"Little one, so young and your head so troubled already. That is not right. I tell you what, she is teaching you the prayers, right?"
"Uhumm" She exhaled hopeless, it wasn't the prayer she hated, it was the teaching methods. Miss Paige instead had been patient and made rhymes for her to remember.
"Well you may try to pray for her then, the lord always listen the children's prayers"
Lucille could agree with that last part, but she was getting drowsy and responded only with an involuntary yawn.
"I see is time for you to sleep" Nana stated.
"Leave Thomas please"
"Oh well, but you don't-"
"I won't roll over Nana"
"And I believe you child. I 'll be back in two hours with the Master's milk"
"Humm.." She was asleep in no time.