Sweet Swindle

Chapter III: Saved by the bell

I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.

Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

It was well past noon before Angelique had finished transcribing all of the manuscripts, or parts of them. She had produced five neatly written copies. She took his request as a kind of challenge—not to demonstrate her excellence in the written art, but more as a personal test to provide hard evidence of her profitable employment. She would seize any means to keep the position.

There was still the matter of the wages and how much to expect. Though it wasn't the sole question that busied her mind, she wasn't too eager to invite the scrutiny that would surely come after the amount. Still, the matter of her income was particularly pressing. Most in-service were paid per month, but she needed the money now. A fortnight was too long for their reserves to last. Even for a week, she would have to stretch the expenses to a shred per few days, making do with watered-down stew, plain potatoes, and occasionally omitting breakfast.

Their stomachs would undoubtedly still need more substantial sustenance—especially considering that a significant amount of it would go to her brother, who had a large build and a great appetite. However, they would survive.

The words constantly lay on her lips, like an anxious quiver, wanting to ask if she was granted the position officially and when her first payment would be.

Her fingers were stiff, forced into the same position for hours. The strain started from her hand and extended to the base of her underarm as a cord of nagging pain. She flexed her elbows a few times, wearing out the stiffness, and gradually stretched her hands on the desk until her fingers attained a natural angle again. There was also a painful crook in her neck that spread to her shoulders. She briefly kneaded the muscles there, but the knots were too deep to allow for any relief.

Gideon had disappeared as suddenly as he had arrived when she dared to explore the office. Now, she found herself wondering where he had gone and how she might find herself in his company once more. A bell near the door caught her eye. Perhaps if she rang it, a servant might appear, and she could inquire about his presence? She only hoped the Duke and the servants wouldn't take offense to her doing so.

Angelique pulled the chain shortly and waited for someone to emerge. Perhaps it had been too short, for a handful of minutes had passed, and the doorway still stood empty. She decided to stand, not wishing to present herself as a habitant of the estate. She rang it a second time, now longer.

To her surprise, the Duke appeared shortly after, his expression vaguely inquiring.

"Ah, milord, I did not expect you to appear. I merely wished to inform you that I have fulfilled your request and finished transcribing the documents—five in total, to be exact." She relayed only what was essential, though inwardly she longed to add, "Would you be so kind as to review them so that we may conclude our affairs and make arrangements?" A sense of pride stirred within her as she reflected on her achievement. How could he possibly deny such a win to his cause?

It suddenly dawned on her, the potential impertinence of her decision. No words had yet come from the Duke himself. "Did I misstep in utilizing the servant bell?" she started.

The Duke finally strode into the room, abandoning his lingering stance by the doorway, still glowering at her, as if there was a bird's nest perched upon her head. Angelique smoothed out the stray hairs instinctively.

"It just occurred to me I had no way of acquiring your presence," she added, growing more nervous by the second. She felt certain she had truly done wrong. "Instead of wandering the estate in search of you, I resorted to summoning a servant."