Teasing Your Wicked Heart

PROLOGUE

"Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday," a tight high-pitched voice had said with a quick indrawn breath, and continued, "Friday and Saturday."

She brought her stout little fingers to her face and started counting, repeating the days and found it lacking one.

With an exasperated sigh, she repeated the process, the last word catching the tip of her tongue, but refusing to give her the relief of having found the forgotten answer.

The governess smiled. "Look up," she said as she directed the little girl towards a yellow-painted ceiling with a white intricate woodcarving of what appears to be a sun. Its rays extended towards the frames of massively lined squares that covered the wooden panel.

Her eyes widening, lips breathing out a whisper, "Sunday," she concluded, finally reveling on the feeling of accomplishment.

How could she forget Sunday? Sunday came before Monday, and Monday was the best day of the week.

"Good. What is today," the governess inquired. The girl squirmed in her seat while her nurse pinned her hair securely atop of her head.

"Declaration of the day, Missy," the governess reminded her with a slight raise of her brow when the little girl didn't answer right away.

With a petulant sigh, she began reciting, her pitchy voice echoing the empty vast halls of the nursery. "There are 7 days in a week. Today is Monday, and today I am happy," she paused, humming the syllables from her last sentence.

Her tongue rolled out the next words with ease, "Yesterday was Sunday and it was great, Tomorrow is Tuesday and it will be better for God is good, God is great, and I love Him." She smiled obviously proud of accomplishing the declaration as taught by the governess.

Her governess was a mild-mannered mature woman who never so much raised her voice during the her lessons with the little girl. The girl, Lady Sarah Jane, the only daughter of the Earl, was exuberant in every way, from the way she ran towards the empty halls, to the way she ate her meals, always in a haste for the next activity that beguiled her curious mind. But even as the exasperated house help cleaned after the little girl's commotions, every single one was wrapped in her endless charms.

She sang, words mixed with hums and soft hitches that warmed their hearts in the drafty mansion. She danced, following an imaginary thread of music that only she seemed to hear. And no matter how the house seemed to threaten to bring the people's spirits down, it only took one sound of her small thumping feet echoing the rooms, to make every last bit, even mild-mannered mature governess to erupt in a goofy smile.

It had been a dark week; everyone in the house had said as much.

Lord Rosenberg had taken to bed for more than a few days and it was not like him to be indisposed for so long—even if he did land squarely on the ground after his wild Arabian horse proved to be untamable.

It happened all the time.

The Earl had a fondness for all things wild, and he fought with his hands and feet to tame beasts, gaining satisfaction from having the ability to contain them and make them bend at his will. He spent more time outdoors than indoors for the drafty house reminded him of the missing spirit of his dead wife, the mother of the little girl, who in the very short year of his marriage had managed to bring him to his knees. She had difficulty in childbirth, ultimately resulting in her untimely demise, and the widower had taken his sorrows out of doors to shield his lovely daughter of any cruelty that the world offered.

It was Monday, and every Monday the Earl promised a few hours to spend with his only daughter to tour around the house and invent grand stories. But the Earl hadn't been down for breakfast and Miss Elizabeth, her mild-mannered mature governess, took many pains to distract the six-year-old child from her father's bedchamber. The doctor was not sure if the earl was ill with something else which might be catching, and it would be safer to keep people away from him as long as he had not felt better.

"Would you like us to continue our tour," the governess quietly inquired after she had informed Lady Sarah Jane that rain was to be expected that afternoon, which would make their outing to tour the gardens impossible.

"But it is Monday," she replied.

She spoke in very short sentences, and even while she was all smiles, the drafty and almost-empty estate had left the child quite lacking in cheer.

The governess nodded. She knew what the child meant.

Miss Elizabeth never forced Lady Sarah Jane to do anything that she hadn't wanted to do, but it seemed important to continue her routine as if there hadn't been anything amiss.

They continued through the hallway and saw the girl's head bobbing curiously towards the Painting room. It was where the Earl and his daughter spent most of their afternoons together, and after having missed last Monday's lesson, the little lady was surely missing her father.

The next morning had clearer skies and fluffy clouds. Lady Sarah Jane rose from her bed and looked for her governess to proclaim the declaration of the day, as she did every morning.

Today, she was exceptionally cheerful because of the weather. She did not know what had caused her father to be ill, but she had predicted that when the sun decides to stop hiding, her father would arise from the bed and greet her at breakfast.

And today, the sun was bright and shining like a promise.

It would be a wonderful Tuesday, and she didn't care that it was not Monday; they would be having their lesson. They would have that long exaggerated walk in the Painting room naming all the 7 Earls Rosenberg up to her father. They would visit the large painting of her mother, a size that could fit ten children she was sure, and she would tell her mother everything the governess had taught her. She would be adding sums, singing songs, and they would be happy.

But when Sarah Jane reached Miss Elizabeth's bedchamber, the door had already been open and no one was in sight.

"Hello?" She scampered along the hallway.

"Miss Elizabeth! It's Tuesday," she called, pausing before taking the first few steps on the staircase.

"Miss Elizabeth?"

Just before reaching the platform in the middle of the staircase, her Nurse Harpers ran up to her, snatched her in her arms and ran back down to the entrance hall.

It was a Tuesday, a day after a Monday, and it was sunny and bright.

But on that day the Earl was gone, leaving Sarah Jane to hate Tuesdays more than rainy days, hating it more than aught.

——————————
A/N: Hi everyone! When I first published this novel on Wattpad, I didn't think that I could put notes for the fear of ruining your reading experience! But after reading so many novels here that have little bits of commentary from the author, I've decided that maybe it is best that I communicate with my readers (or potential readers haha)

I am hoping that you are enjoying what you have read thus far! Although this work is completed, I appreciate feedback and will edit accordingly :) THANK YOU so much for taking the time to read, and for being curious enough to get to this part. More than anything, I just want my work to be read.

If you liked it, please consider giving it a vote. I've heard from the community forums that this is how Wattpad calculates the algorithm so that it gets recommended to other readers. So hope you can help me in this regard. Again, thank you so much for being here!