Incognito

4

The past: Angelica Roslin

"Come on," Angelica drags her whining younger sister down the hall. Their dresses teetered as the sisters ran down the carpeted hall. A passing servant bowed to them. They were going to to be later for dinner and yet Angelica paused before hastening in, not quite as eager as earlier. Most of the time the servants slack and in a few instances did they bow to their young mistresses. A shout resounds; Elizabeth shivers when Angelica's hand slips in hers.

"He's here," Elizabeth moans, a question on the tinge of her statement.

Fear marks the borders of seven year old Angelica's eyes yet she bravely travels. Forward, they must go forward. Father hates tardiness.

"Angelica, we can't." Elizabeth tugs her sister and whines.

The girl shakes her head. "No, we must-"

A crash of glass and the boom of doors makes Angelica curtail. Stamps of feet make her shudder. Father was back from a long trade excursion and was in a foul mood. Angelica could glimpse only his shadow and gather enough to know she wished to hide-anything to avoid his wrath.

Bottle swinging to his lips every other step, he made his way swiftly toward his daughters. No hesitation before he roared, "Go to your rooms! There will be no supper tonight!"

Frightened, the two nod and scurry away.

Hours passed as the girls cowered in their room. Shouts and the breaking of glass frighten them enough that they beg their nursemaid to tuck them in early. The screams of their father plague her ears, awakening Angelica deep in the night. Too timid for slumber she huddled in her bed, listening too hard to the night. When dawn broke her door creaked open and her older brother crept in. The shadow cast was taller than the eleven year old and suddenly Angelica feared she may have been mistaken. Flipping the duvet over her head, she lay as still as a log with one eye propped open. Darcy crept over to Elizabeth's bed before sneaking himself into Angelica's bed.

"Gelica!" he forcefully shook her shoulder. 

Angelica ignored him. 

Grumpily Darcy flopped on his back. Carefully pulling another eye open, Angelica rolled over.

"Cook caught the illness. Father heard a wisp of gossip from his chamberlain. Marched right down there and fired her. Said anyone sick ain't never gonna touch his food. Mama cried when he shouted. It was awful, Gelica. Plain awful."

"What about breakfast?" Angelica whispered. The night was getting cold and Cook had trained their stomachs to expect a hot meal upon waking.  

"Father won't hire anyone. 'Suppose they might have that plague."

"No food." A tear slipped down her cheek and Darcy quickly wiped it away.

"He locked the pantry and the cellar. He says if Mama lays a hand to work it will ruin us."

"So..." Angelica sniffled. Her stomach grumbled. There was no denying it; she was already hungry. "We...starve."

Destitute, Darcy slipped out of her bed. She could only see his face in the sliver of morning light trickling through the curtain. He didn't know. Her older brother was supposed to know everything and yet...he didn't know.

Angelica had to do something. As the sun rose higher she watched her little sister. She had to feed Eliza. Angelica had never known hunger in her young life and she could not let Eliza ever be hungry.