The Gentleman of Greenstoke

VII.

It was a wonderful morning as Elizabeta decided to venture through the gardens. For days, heavy rain had poured down in the most brutal manner Britain could offer. The blooming flowers had caught her attention for days and now the female had time to observe them closely in the dry environment. She had left some minutes for herself before Miss Marguerite would plan the supper with her.

She quickly returned when she heard noises in the kitchen. It was strange; the other servants had long left the kitchen after they had finished their meals. Elizabeta had eaten before the other maids had. The female did not consider herself above others – unlike a certain Prussian – but preferred to eat her food alone. Surprisingly, no one was present, as she entered the room.

"Where is that noise coming from?" She muttered to herself before hearing another sound. It came from the hall and the brunette was unsure to walk towards the small ruckus. Maybe it was one of the servants; although they knew better than to created noises. Since the incident with Gilbert Beilschmidt, the woman had been hesitant to leave the servants' quarters. Not that she was intimidated by the odd Prussian man – she thought him extremely annoying and for some days he had been very present in the Kirkland mansion; He was practically following her but Elizabeta decided that her imagination was exaggerating. A respectable General could not be obsessed with a mere servant, could he? 'He wants to irritate me,' she concluded. She ascended the servant's stairs to the hall, watching if one member of the family was present. None was, and the woman felt more at ease. After the Prussian General had apologised days ago, Elizabeta avoided him and the main rooms in the mansion – she did not want to take any risks and she was not allowed to enter them without reason. The moment from three days ago, when he was awkwardly asking her to dance with him while she was tainted with flour, was strange. She was certain that the man was mocking her, especially when the younger Mr Beilschmidt approached them and apologised on his older brother's account. In her eyes, the blonde German was agreeable and had exquisite manners. The complete opposite of the white-haired arrogant General.

"Good morning, Miss Elizabeta Héderváry."

She did not need to turn around; the voice was too familiar; it had haunted her since he had entered the house one week ago. ,Oh no,' she thought, spinning around; her non-verbal communication signalling her defensive frame after she quickly bowed – she did not forget the rules of the etiquette. "Mr Beilschmidt," she acknowledged sternly. The man stood in front of her, one hand supporting his body on the wall while his other held a bouquet of flowers. 'Why in God's name is he always in the possession of bouquets?' the female asked herself. To say she was happy about this occurrence was an understatement, to be faced with a man who positioned himself in the room as if he was ruling the world while his smirk suggested his increasing arrogance, was too much to bear for the Hungarian. The day was far too early for such sights. "If you would please excuse me, I must tend to my duties."

Gilbert had waited days to see her – both he and Ludwig had decided to stay some days as visitors in the Kirkland mansion after the weather had prevented them to return to their summerhouse. Since the occurrence, where his brother had interrupted them, the man had been nervous and worried. He did not show it openly, of course, the General had to uphold a reputation after all – not to mention that he despised to express his true feelings and women in his circle of acquaintances liked strong and confidant men. Nonetheless he was content to have seen her this morning. The Prussian had to admit that he was smitten by her and tried his utmost to win her. But seeing her turning around to avoid him was unnerving him. The flowers in his hand were for her after all. "W-Wait, Miss, these are for you."

Elizabeta stopped dead in her tracks when he was offering her the bouquet. Again. "Thank you, but I must decline."

The general stared at her, his hand outstretched. It started to shake and Gilbert grew a little annoying by her rejections. "Excuse me. You can't deny them. I have bought them for you." Her brows shot up and he rethought his words. Before he could say anything else, Elizabeta spoke harshly. "Why are you mocking me? It's highly improper to offer flowers to a woman who is supposed to cook your food. I know to prefer to irritate me. Please stop with your offending actions."