The House of Beardsley

Chapter Seven

The third morning we woke up at Beardsley and heard the morning gongs, Rhiannon was already walking to Beth's bed, skirts swishing from how fast she walked, heels clicking against the hollow wooden floors. When she reached her, she grabbed the blanket that was over her, and tugged with such force that Beth flipped over with it and screeched like a banshee.

"Give me back my blanket!" she cried. If any of the servants were still asleep, they surely woke up now.

"Wake up!" Rhiannon shouted in equal fervor.

Me and Clo watched, intrigued, both huddled under our own covers and giggling. Rhiannon seemed more human nowadays, maybe because of her new morning chore. She was close to Beth, like rivaling siblings, of course with her as the older one and Beth the younger one, and me and Clo even felt comfortable enough to laugh whilst watching them.

"Today isn't that cold," I said after we all woke up and lined up to use the water in the basin. "I wonder when we can get a day off, I would like to walk around town sometime."

"Yes!" Beth turned to me abruptly, the cold water on her face splashing on me. She grinned. "Did you know Ravensborough is famous for their markets? Merchants from all over come because all the richest gather here!"

"You mean the House of Beardsley and House of Clarke?" Those were, as far as I was concerned, the only rich houses I knew of here.

I was interested in applying to the House of Clarke too, as it was much more beautiful, modern, and well, didn't have bad-rumors linked with it, but then again, they had dozens of applicants. They, surely, wouldn't choose an inexperienced orphan like me who was not even of English origin.

"I don't mind if you want to go, but are you really able to? You know you'll probably meet a lot of other Phillips, right?"

Clo stopped buttoning her blouse and turned to look at me, frowning. Her face was bare now, no trademark red lipstick nor rouge. She suddenly looked so much younger, and without her heeled boots, she was only slightly taller than me.

I played with my hands again, angsty at the thought.

I didn't like having abuse hurled at me either, but I also wanted to feel like an ordinary girl. To around the streets, buy scones and bon bons from food-stands, watch street-performers like clowns, and shop for German lace to sew on dresses.

"Why do you always treat her like a child?" Rhiannon asked. I never knew whether she spoke to make me more independent or just to vex Clo, because usually the end result was them fighting. "She's what, sixteen?"

"Eighteen," I interrupted. I left the orphanage at sixteen but worked for two years at the church and lived off their pity before applying to Beardsley.

"That's not the point—you won't know anyway, because you're fair and pretty." Clo rolled her eyes and set to brushing her hair. Rhiannon only raised an eyebrow.

"Don't assume I had an easy life just because I'm fair and pretty. I had to leave two houses before because the footmen and valets were bothering me."

"I've never seen someone brag about their beauty like that," Beth whispered in awe, but I could see it. Rhiannon probably adopted her prissy attitude to prevent anyone from getting too close to her, and it stuck with her, even now.

"Hmph," Clo said. "But if you're going, I'm going with you, Shuyan."

"That's not very helpful," Rhiannon said. "Both of you might be targeted. I'll come along."

"No one invited you—" Clo hissed, but then Beth cut in.

"Oh! Let's all go! I've always wanted to go and can get to know each other better, too!"