Ch. 30
Samuel knew that he did not have much time if he was to search for Estella, and so he allowed his instinct to lead him in the direction in which he thought she might be. He ascended a large staircase as quickly as he could and stopped to hide if he heard any type of movement or sound, and waited for it to pass.
It allowed him a brief moment to remember his reason for being there; the image of her wearing the satin red gown and the black lace mask on the night of the masquerade filled his mind. In all of his wildest dreams, he had not expected to see her there, but he found that she had grown even more beautiful over the years and was reminded of the time when they had first met. He needed to see her again.
As silently as he could, he walked among the shadows down the long hallway at the top, examining each door that he saw in an attempt to determine if she would be in that room. He would pause to listen carefully, and when he heard no sound, he would resume his wandering further away from where he had first entered the estate.
In one room, he heard the crackling of a fireplace, but he could hear nothing else. Perhaps she was sleeping? He could not imagine that any servant's quarters would be above ground, but he could not help but to fear it, anyway, as he slowly grasped the cold knob of the door. He turned it gently and could feel his heart racing as he began to open it. If he should be mistaken, then he would be incapable of explaining himself.
A bedroom was revealed to him, one with blue walls and gold decor, but it was empty. His eyes scanned the furniture and decorations quickly, though he knew that he should move onto the next room. His intentions to leave were stopped by the sight of a lilac-colored dress that had been placed on the back of a chair. Who else could it have been for, but her?
With a wicked grin he closed the door behind himself very slowly until he was satisfied that he had not made a sound. Then, he stepped further into the center of the room and observed his surroundings carefully. His smile widened at the sight of another closed door across the room.
He felt the adrenaline flood his veins as he maneuvered his way closer until his ear was pressed against its cold wood. He could hear the sound of water echoing throughout the room behind the door, and he knew that he had discovered her location.
Estella tilted her head back and breathed a deep sigh as she allowed the hot water to soak her skin and seemingly wash away her worries. How relaxing it was to have a hot bath and to forget about everything for just a bit! She allowed the waterline to tickle her ears and the sides of her face as she daydreamed about Erik's return. How she longed to see him again!
Suddenly, she heard the door being opened, and though she could not see past the decorative divider that gave her a bit of privacy, she became somewhat irritated.
"Marguerite, I am not yet finished," she called out.
She had dismissed her Lady's Maid for some time, feeling it unnecessary to require assistance in bathing herself. She was more than capable of washing and dressing herself, as she had done so for most of her life, and she longed to have privacy.
She heard no response, and the room fell silent again. She assumed that Marguerite had obeyed and left the room.
Samuel was taking his time in closing and locking the door so that she would not hear him. He even remained motionless for a few seconds, wondering if she would get up from behind the crimson-colored screen to see who it was, though he surmised that he had been mistaken for a servant.
Estella could not ignore the feeling that she was not alone, and goose-flesh rose to her arms and neck. She knew that something was wrong.
"Marguerite?"
She heard the footsteps on the marble floor, but they sounded different than the light feet of her short servant. It wasn't until she had seen his face when the panic began to set in, but his hand flew to her mouth before she could let out her scream.
Nearly two hours had passed since Marguerite had drawn the bath for Estella, and she had not heard a word from her Mistress. She assumed that Estella was already dried and dressed, perhaps reading in her room beside the fireplace, but she decided to check on her, anyway.
As she made her way toward the staircase, she was caught off-guard by a well-dressed man descending those very stairs. He was adjusting the cream-colored cravat around his neck as the two of them drew closer to passing one another, and she could not determine his identity, for she had never seen him before.
"Excuse me," she said to him. "What were you doing up there and who are you?"
Normally she knew that it was not in her place as a servant to ask such questions, but she had not been aware of any visitors and had certainly not heard of anyone being recently employed while the Master was away. And as such, why was he near Estella's room?
Samuel glanced up at her with a friendly smile and only slowed his pace to talk to her.
"I was looking for the Butler," he replied warmly. "I have applied for employment and am here to speak with him."
Marguerite slowly took another step, though he was now at the base of the stairs and she was looking down at him. There was something about him that made her uneasy and she wished to create a distance between the two of them.
"Mr. Matthews would not be found upstairs. How did you get inside?" she asked suspiciously.
If Mr. Matthews or another sevant had received him, then certainly he would not have been anywhere outside of the servants' rooms, or even lost, at that.
"You are correct," he chuckled. "I am lost. I have asked another servant where he is, and I will be on my way."
He turned to leave before she could say another word, and she was far more worried about Estella than to chase after him for further questioning, and so she resumed her motives of inquiring after her. She could only hope that nothing had been stolen, and that she had not just allowed the thief to escape.
Marguerite knocked on Estella's door but heard nothing. She called out a few times, but still there was only silence. Upon trying the door, she found that it was locked, and so she decided it best not to disturb her for a while longer.
Later that night, Marguerite was prepared to assist Estella into her night attire, as was the tradition, but again the door was locked and she could hear nothing inside of the room. She hoped that Estella had already gone to sleep, but she feared something else in the back of her mind, though she was not certain exactly what it was.
"Tony," she beckoned one of the footmen in the narrow hallway downstairs after they had finished their meal. "Who was that man here earlier today? He had curly brown hair and blue eyes."
She knew that Tony had been one of the few to have been about more than usual with the delivery of Mr. Destler's gift, and she wondered if he knew anything about this man. A few of the other servants said that he had been the last to leave the room.
"He was assisting the delivery of the pianoforte," the blonde responded with a yawn, as he was eager to retire for the night. "Why do you ask?"
"I saw him upstairs, and I found it rather odd. Why did he not leave right away, and why was he there?" she thought aloud to herself.
Tony quickly glanced around the two of them to see that most of the servants had already begun their trek back to their private quarters, and he whispered, "Do not tell anyone, but he was inquiring about Mrs. Destler. He said that he was an old friend and wished to surprise her, before he left for the military."
The dread that had formed a knot in Marguerite's stomach for the afternoon seemed to rise to her throat, and she now feared the worst.
She was not inclined to believe that Estella would be unfaithful, but she found herself thoroughly confused, and then utterly perturbed at her fellow servant for engaging himself in conversation with the man.
"Why did you not show him to the door?"
"I told him to return when the Master was back, and he said he would!" Tony defended himself.
"And you did not watch him leave?"
"You cannot blame me for the overwhelming amount of work that I was troubled with. I did not have time to waste on reuniting childhood friends!"
"You imbecile!" she shrieked, throwing her hands up in frustration.
Marguerite stormed off to her room and paced back and forth as she thought of what to do. Though she could not be certain what had happened, the idea of another man wishing to see Estella did not settle well in her mind. Perhaps he was an old friend, after all, but why would he disregard the fact that the Master was away? And she found it very unlikely, as Estella had never mentioned him before, and she knew the trouble that her Mistress had had with making acquaintances, due to the color of her skin.
And if Estella had been unfaithful to Mr. Destler, and Marguerite now had even an inkling of that knowledge, then she knew that it would only be a matter of time before her Master found out, and she did not wish to be a part of it. How would she be able to keep it from him in order not to upset Estella, and without being dismissed from employment? She did not wish to take sides, and she rubbed her temples in frustration.
Still, she could not bring herself to believe that Estella was that sort of person, and the fear that something was wrong had returned. She knew that she would hardly sleep that night, but she decided it the best course of action at the moment.
When morning would arrive, she would find her Mistress and discover the truth.