The House Guest (Unedited)

Chapter 1: Part Two

I find myself between Lady Dorothea and a petite, raven haired girl with piercing blue eyes, whom I presume to be my cousin Susanna. She has bones as thin as those of a bird. Despite my discomfort, my heart begins to hammer against my chest -- and I am excited about making a new friend. Perhaps she enjoys the same books I do, or likes to play make believe in the garden. Excitement wells up within me, and I shyly peer at her beneath lowered lashes. She doesn't seem to have noticed me, and her gaze remains sternly fixed ahead.

"Are you learned?" Lady Dorothea demands suddenly, her spoon hovering idly above her bowl of New England clam chowder.

"Yes, Aunt - I mean - Ma'am. My Father taught me to read and write. And I very much enjoy studying history and music, though I'm not very good at it. But, I've been practicing piano and I can play the flute, and I think I've developed an ear for music. At least, that's what Papa told me." I heave a sigh, my heart panging with longing for my parents and our humble cottage near the edge of the woods.

"Helene, you mustn't drone on and on about things that we don't care for. I simply asked, are you learned, and all you would have to say is yes, or no. You will be joining Susanna for her lessons once a fortnight, and I expect you will gain sufficient knowledge there, at least enough to marry you off to a vicar, or a tutor. After all, you are homely, and you aren't bright." Lady Dorothea shifts her attention to Susanna, and her features visibly soften, "I'm going to have tea with Lady Ophelia tomorrow at half past three, and she's bringing dearest Maria. Sleep well, my pet!"

Susanna plants a kiss upon her mother's weathered grey cheek as she prances away.

"Mother is buying me a new dress," Susanna brags, plopping a strawberry into her mouth, "It has lace-covered sleeves, and it is light blue. Mother says it's just like the one the princess wears. Mother says I will have a string of diamonds to wear with it. She says I will be the prettiest girl in England when I grow up."

I attempt to follow the conversation, though I have never known the luxury of having the instantaneous disposal of gifts and beautiful gowns. Susanna crinkles her nose suddenly, arresting her chewing and throwing her spoon onto her china plate causing a delicate cacophony of noise.

"Why do you have to come live with us, anyway?" She asks, folding her arms across her chest, her beady eyes burning into mine with unnerving intensity, "I know you're poor. We all know it. The only reason your father left you to us in his will is because he gambled all his money away, and he wants you to leech off of ours for the rest of your life. If you weren't here, you'd be washed up on the streets of London, begging for food like a street urchin."

My pulse spikes, and I stumble out of my seat, a strange, awful feeling devouring the insides of my chest, my neck, my stomach.

I walk, finally finding a private place and leaning against the door, my entire frame trembling beneath the weight of the world crashing down around me.

My shoulders are bent around my body as it heaves between muffled sobs. I can still see his face, hear his voice, moaning in pain. I stood at his bedside, his delirious eyes staring into emptiness, his mind locked in his body -- tortured by the illness that consumed him. My entire being was shaken when he fell ill, and so suddenly.

I miss him.

"Are you alright?"

I hesitantly lift my head to observe a boy, perhaps a few years older than I, perched against the wall on the opposite side of the room. His blue eyes are full of questioning, but I notice a mischievous glint in them. His brown hair is windswept, as if he's just come in from playing a game outside with his friends.