His Eliza (Available in paperback & eBook-SAMPLE)

Chapter 2

I hope you all enjoy the new chapter. Thank you for your support. It means a lot to me. Have another chapter up early next week. :)

(Eliza)

I swallowed hard, eyeing the cup of coffee with dread. I had two choices before me. I could take that cup to Mr. Prescott, or I could disobey his order and as punishment spend time in the dark room. Both choices held no appeal for me. I swallowed again.

"What's wrong?" Abigail asked, bumping into me from behind. "Are you too good to take the master a cup of coffee?"

"Abigail, you will leave her be," Martha said sharply. "Make yourself useful and polish the staircase."

"Yes, ma'am," she murmured.

Martha turned to me with a sympathetic smile. "It's just a cup, Eliza. If you drop it, you clean up the mess and prepare another cup. Mr. Prescott won't punish you for it." She picked up the cup and saucer and held them out to me. "You can do this. One step at a time."

My hands trembling, I took the cup and saucer from her. Porcelain rattled against porcelain as I slowly moved toward the doorway. Coffee sloshed over the rim and I wondered if I would make it to his office with enough coffee left in the cup for him to drink.

"Martha, I need you to gather the staff," Mr. Prescott said, marching into the kitchen.

Startled by his presence, I dropped the cup and watched with horror as it hit the floor and shattered, coffee and shards of porcelain going everywhere. I raised a trembling hand to my mouth and looked at Mr. Prescott with wide eyes.

His expression calm, Mr. Prescott said, "Clean it up, Eliza, and no coffee for me this morning. I don't have time."

Relieved that I didn't have to try and carry another cup of coffee and shocked that he had taken what happened so calmly, I hurried to fetch what I needed to sweep up the shards and wipe up the spilled coffee.

"You said you need me to gather the staff, sir," Martha said.

"I have an announcement to make," he told her. "Have everyone in the entrance hall in ten minutes."

"Yes, Mr. Prescott."

He left the kitchen. Breathing a sigh of relief, I swept up the shards and threw them away in the trash. I then went to work cleaning up the coffee with a rag.

"You see," Martha said. "He wasn't angry with you for breaking the cup."

"Wait until I've broken three or four," I muttered. "May I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Has Mr. Prescott ever been violent?" I inquired, taking the rag to the sink to run it under the water.

"He has violent outbursts from time to time," Martha replied. "He'll throw things and make a ruckus, but he's never harmed another human being. When he gets in one of his moods it's best to steer clear of him until he calms down. Now I need to go and inform everyone of the meeting."

She walked out of the kitchen, leaving me to think about what she said.

I stood next to Martha, my hands tucked in the pockets of my apron. Everyone was standing in the entrance hall waiting for Mr. Prescott. Whispered conversation was going on around me. I ignored it and kept my gaze on the corridor that led to Mr. Prescott's office.