The House of Beardsley

Chapter Five

There was someone in the bed.

Oh Lord, I had forgotten to knock on the door.

The boy that sat in the bed turned around once he heard my gasp.

Master Eugene.

The boy in the bed was still in his night-clothes, a white night-shirt. He looked just as surprised as I was, but thankfully he didn't make a sound like I did.

He didn't look like any of the other masters. His hair was a light shade of brown, like autumn leaves, and it was a bit on the long side. His bangs partially covered his left eye and the other side was tucked behind his ears. It looked soft. His expression was gentle, and he looked younger than what be probably was.

Then he spoke.

"Are you—you're the new maid, right?"

His voice was different the the others too, neither haughty nor nonchalant, as we were simply workers—but polite, like greeting a guest. He even added a small smile.

I didn't know how to reply. He suddenly laughed, but not impolitely.

"Sorry, that was foolish of me, you are the new maid. Otherwise you wouldn't be here with the sheets and all." He spoke to himself, and then suddenly struggled to straighten himself. There was something funny about his movement.

"I apologize for coming into your room without permission," I said, trembling, as he continued to move, "I'll leave right away, Master Eugene."

"Wait!"

Before I knew it, I heard a clang, and saw Master Eugene with a pained expression.

"I'm sorry, I knocked over my cane in my haste and can't reach it, can you do me a favor and get it for me?"

"Huh?"

He gestured to the area next to his nightstand.

"Oh—yes, Master Eugene."

I scurried to his side and then picked up the cane that laid sideways on the floor. It was a extraordinary cane, its shaft made of dark brown wood with a silver hilt engraved with vines and leaves. I picked it up and realized it was much heavier than it looked, and handed it to him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm very sorry for bothering you, I'll be taking my leave."

"No, no," he stood up suddenly, leaning on his cane, the covers strewn back. "I feel awful too, for not greeting the new maids properly last night. I am Eugene Beardsley, as you probably know, third son of Lord Adam Beardsley."

I nodded and then looked at the front of my chaffed boots and whispered, "I'm Sue—Shuyan."

"Shuyan." He practiced saying my name. Then he smiled. "It's a pleasure having you. Would you mind changing my sheets?"

"Huh?" I cursed myself for saying it so many times. "I mean, yes, Master Eugene, but are you sure?"

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I can use a cane just fine." He pushed himself up on a cane, and surprisingly, took a few steady steps to a chair where he sat down.

Feeling my face flush, I nodded. Everything felt like a daze as I pulled off the sheets, replaced them, and fluffed the pillows.

"And would you mind also dusting my room?" He asked as he climbed back into bed, smiling faintly, his bangs falling in front of his green eyes.

"Yes, of course." I turned and began to dust the nightstand, aware of his eyes on me the entire time.

"Matthew, my valet, isn't exactly the best at cleaning," he continued speaking, as though we were friends. I wished he could stop, and yet I was scared that not replying would offend him, so I gave a small laugh to show I was listening. He continued, nonetheless. "I'm glad they hired housekeepers. We've always tried having the valets and footmen do it, but cleaning simply isn't their forte."