Forget the Past

Forget the Past Part 9

The Past is Put to Rest

The man sat back in his seat. Some of the tension in his body had subsided. The ride home had proven profitable on several fronts. He could persuade her to his way of thinking having more time now to do so. Erich was certain of the fact.

He watched her without seeming to do so. She sat by the window, in a chair she seemed favor, book in hand. The drapes, of course, were drawn open as any and all in the entire house, he had noted of late.

The thought made him smile.

"What are you about, man?"

The stern admonishment took him somewhat by surprise.

"Say you what?" he inquired, his tone suggesting, perhaps she should be minding her business and not his. "The last time I checked, I was in charge of this manor, not you."

Those blue eyes rolled. "You were smiling. Reason in itself to be alarmed, for you never do but that smile, Sir...was suspect indeed. So, what has that diabolical mind conjured now, one might wonder for you to be in such an agreeable state?"

"None of your business." he returned to his ledgers.

It was her habit of late to come to his study, book in hand, cup of tea balanced precariously until she could sit her trappings upon the small table by the chair.

He had never inquired as to the why of it all. That she seemed seek out his company was reason enough for the man.

The small house maid, who now took to speaking to him on a daily basis, confided she thought the 'Mistress' considered herself in the way, which certainly was not true...and sought a place of concealment until the morning chores had been attended to.

It was true, after a couple of hours, the woman left his study, with no word, explanation or fare-thee-well and he did not see her again until late brunch which she took with the family in the smaller dining area, as was custom.

Erich checked on the woman now. "...We have a problem."

"Yet another?" she did not look up from her reading.

"What to call you." He had thought it through for some time now. "Do you have a preference?"

"It is simplest to refer to me as 'Tessa'. They all seem to accept and know this name."

"I hate that name." he reminded. "It will not do.'

"It will only cause confusion and speculation to change it. Do not be obstinate." she lifted a cool stare. "Was you who began the lie, if you will recall."

"Do not constantly bring that little mishap up." he suggested. "I will refer to you as..." he sought the most obnoxiously objectionable name he could think. "Helga."

The woman lifted her head. "I am not...a Helga, man." She wrinkled her nose.

"It is a fine German name."

"I am not German...you are." she was becoming a trifle upset with the direction the conversation had taken.

"...Greta?"

She pulled an endearing face. "No."

"I like Greta." he insisted, knowing it would cause trouble.

"I am sure you do. One of your many former lovers, no doubt. Or present, knowing you." the book was summarily closed.

"It was my grandmother's name." he lied gleefully.

"Oh." She was decidedly ill at ease for such a faux pas. "Well, then it is a very nice name, but...not me."