Memoir of a Trapped Housewife

Chapter Six {Warnings}

           

Chapter Six

Warnings

When I was finally released from the sitting room the sun was sneaking onto the horizon. I yawned, utterly drained. As I approached the servant's staircase I felt a hand wrap securely around my arm. I shrieked and turned. Behind me, looking severely harried, was Mrs. Cecilia.

"The man in black wore a wolf's mask you say?" she hissed, looking around.

I nodded, exhausted of talking.

"Goodness! The situation is more dire than I imagined!"

"May I ask how?"

"Don't you remember?" She shook me. "In sheep's clothing they infiltrate, call you mate, lie in wait; these sly wolves who seek to harm and disarm with charm." My blood ran cold.

"I'm sure it was purely coincidental," I said, while freeing myself from her desperate grasp. "The poem says 'seek to harm and disarm with charm'. How is chasing me like a madman along the terrace charming?"

"You're right Berna, you're right. And I suppose sheep's clothing doesn't imply that the wolf is among us, because he could be. You don't know what he looks like, for all we know he could've slipped right back into the house!"

"Why are you so afraid Mrs. Cecilia?" I asked, regretting the question as soon as it left my lips. She turned the color of snow.

"I think it best if you go prepare the nursery for the children," she answered, resuming her authoritarian role. "And as Cyrus returns today from London, you will meet with him in his office around two." She marched away, still maintaining her aura of elegance, composure, and irrefutable beauty. Nonetheless, I saw her lips tremble. Twice.

Though the day may have begun incredibly sour, as it wore on the sun shone brightly and revealed the gloriousness of the outdoors. In the nursery Clyde and Christie gazed longingly out of the windows. I suggested we go outside, but Grace disagreed heartily.

"Bernadette, I do not think that is a good idea," she interjected, her distinctive Russian accent making her words sound harsher. "Last time we did it- it um- the outcome was not very good. Mr. Cyrus prefers that the children challenge their brains inside with books and scholarly things."

"How awful," I ruminated. Poor children, locked up inside all day with no way to release their pent up energy. My brothers would have been driven mad.

"That is what Mr. Blackstone wants."

I chewed my lower lip in thought. "Here's an idea, why don't we go outside and if anything reproach is cast our way, I'll take the blame."

"I don't think-."

"Come Clyde and Christie, put on your shoes," I grinned, and the children rushed forward eagerly. Today I was a flower--I needed sunshine to live. After the awfulness of last night, I needed its rays to bring me from the terrible depths. I desperately needed to forget the crimson water, Mrs. Lance's weak hand grasping mine desperately, and the horrifying rabid wolf mask.

Outdoors the children ran freely, excited to explore the world they'd been denied. Clyde, who I learned was normally acrid, managed to summon a form of pleasantry. Grace admitted being outside was nice, and leant her head into the fresh gusts of wind. Giggling gleefully, Christie gathered flowers. I taught her to make flower crowns.

She planted a dandelion one on my head and dubbed me 'the queen of chocolate'. Clyde snickered.

I struggled not to laugh, but at the seriousness spread on Christie's four-year-old face and her determination to believe I was chocolate, it was hard to hold back.