A Servant's Security

Chapter 8

Isabel opened her bag and pulled out her nightdress. She changed her clothes quickly, not even looking to see if anyone was watching. She crawled onto the bed and pulled the sheets around her. There was no pillow, so she rested her head on her arm. 

"You there. New girl. It's Isabel, isn't it?"

Isabel turned her head towards the voice that was coming from the bed to her right.

Anastasia leaned towards her.  "Me and most of everybody here came here with Lord Goodwin. My mother is a milk maid and my father is dead. What about you? I heard you tell Lord Goodwin that you didn't want to marry that ugly bailiff."

Isabel sat up, trying to sound friendly instead of exhausted. "My father's dead too. As for the bailiff, that was simply a misunderstanding." She hoped that Anastasia wouldn't press any further.

Anastasia eyed her. "You have a very pretty face, why haven't you married yet?"

Isabel swallowed. She probably shouldn't say she was waiting to meet someone she would want to marry, so she shrugged. 

Someone called out from across the room from Isabel. "She thinks she's too good for village men, that's why!"

Isabel's face burned as laughter erupted all around the room.

Olive came through the door and walked over to the bed on the other side of Anastasia.

"Hey Olive, have you met the new girl Isabel?" asked Anastasia.

"Of course I know her." Olive's voice sounded harsh. "She's from my village isn't she? Are you dumb or something?" 

A bunch of ooh's  came from around the room.

Anastasia stared back at Olive. "So you're the smart one? I suppose you know her life's story, then."

"Of course. Her father died three years ago. He was once a rich merchant, but he lost all of his money and ships at sea. She and her two precious brothers were never made to do their share of work, so when Lord Goodwin came, the jury told her mother she had to send one of her children to work for him. Since Isabel's brothers are too lazy to get their hands dirty, Isabel had to do it." Olive finished by laying down on her bed dramatically.

"Well, if I ever need information, I certainly know who's full of it." Anastasia walked towards the nearest candle and blew it out. 

Isabel squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the other girls were ready to go to sleep. Someone blew out the rest of the candles and plunged the room into darkness. Praying for sleep, she closed her eyes and blocked out the shadowy figures of all the other girls.

A maid near her whispered loudly, "So what happened to the lord that caused him to be so scarred?"

Another voice answered, "I know the story well. When he was eighteen, he came to the aid of a servant girl who was being attacked by a wolf. He fought off the animal. Miss Elizabeth's husband shot the wolf through the neck,  but not before it had clawed the lord's face and hand."

Isabel's chest aches when she hears what happened to the lord.

"Some say he's part wolf now, that he prowls the woods at night."

Several gasps went around the room.

Isabel pressed her hands over her ears as the girls talked about the lord. How could they speak about the lord when he was just one floor above them.

She couldn't take any more of their talk. And besides, she didn't think she could fall asleep until she used the outhouse. Isabel slipped from her bed and hurried out across the room and out the door.

She rushed through the trees, down the newly worn path to the woman's privy. She made it to the small wooded building and shut herself inside.

When she came out, she looked around. Nothing moved and there wasn't any weird sound, only a frog croaking in the distance. She began walking back along the path, wrapping her arms around herself.

Isabel dreaded going back into the room with all the other girls. But not wanting to be caught outside alone by anyone, especially the bailiff, she walked towards the house.

She then noticed someone coming through the trees, not along the path towards her, but far to her left. She froze. The form was too tall to be any woman. Had he seen her? Isabel ducked behind a large oak and watched.

The figure wandered into the trees, veering away from her into the forest. She was fairly certain now that the figure was Lord Goodwin, based on his height and build. She started to walk away quietly, hoping he wouldn't hear or see her. Then he fell to his knees on the ground.

Is he hurt? Does he need help? Maybe she should go and get Miss Elizabeth.

Somehow she sensed his pain was not physical. She watched and listened, but he didn't move.

The silence seemed to weigh on her shoulders. She wanted to get away before he saw her, as he clearly wanted to be alone, but she was afraid of making a noise and drawing his attention.

She started to take a step towards the house. Her foot landed on a twig and it snapped with a large crack.

She stopped and held her breath, watching Lord Goodwin's bent body. After several minutes, she tried again. As she stepped back onto the path, her feet made no sound. She walked carefully until she reached the house. Darting inside, she hurried to her bed. 

The room was quiet except for the heavy breathing of sleep. Isabel crawled under her sheets, but when she closed her eyes, Lord Goodwin's  anguished body posture haunted her. What caused him such pain? 

As she pondered over what happened, a loneliness settled over her. Even though she was in a room full of people, she had never felt so alone. She tried not to think about how hurt she felt by her mother's and brother's treatment towards her. She pushed the thoughts away, but they stubbornly returned, until the tears streamed from her eyes until she fell asleep.