The House of Beardsley

Chapter Forty-one

The mornings after the tea party Eugene ate breakfast with his brothers every morning. I would open the door to an empty room save for a piece of paper.

His sketches got better and more detailed. He still drew flowers—lily of the valleys, mostly—rabbits, koi fishes, sometimes a still-life of a fruit, other times the unused piano in the parlor room or the familiar divan in his pet room. They were all things filled with memories of us talking about it, looking at it, or even sitting there together.

Despite seeing each other sometimes, we rarely managed to talk. Usually he'd ask me about my day and I'd tell him, and in response he'd tell me about his, but I couldn't focus. Not when the looming presence of the the promise that I would soon betray him loomed.

I still remembered the first time we met each other. The first time I opened the door and and found him laying there, on his bed, leaning against the propped up pillow and hands folded on his lap.

His warm eyes, messy hair, the light shining on his and his boyish smile—maybe I knew, from that first meeting, that one day I'd fall for him. Why else would the image be engraved upon my image like this?

Nine months had passed since last September, the start of my employment in the House of Beardsley. I had spent late summer and fall here, met the girls, the valets and staff, and the strange masters. Taken cold baths alone and traversed the big hallways jumping at every creak.

But I also played cards on Beth's bed dressed in my nightwear, bathed with Clo, chatted, shared secrets, and got advice from each other. I even went to my first Ravensborough's Monthly Market, and even went shopping like I always wanted despite how scary it was with the help of Rhiannon.

I'd also spent winter here. Went to a department store with the girls, the twins, and Tobias. Tobias had looked for gifts with me, and me and the girls brought gifts for each other. We ordered gowns from a catalogue, and they were all beautiful. We dressed up on the Christmas Ball and even danced with the men of the house. Then on Christmas we all celebrated together and grew closer.

Then spring came. Snow faded and it began to rain more. Beth told us who she really was. We had a rough time, but in the end we all went back to each other.

After all, we were the closest friends we ever had—we suffered together, cried together, and laughed together. We were the sisters we never had.

When May twentieth came I stood outside the door to Eugene's room and prayed he would be inside in bedroom. I slid my hand over the brass doorknob and inhaled deeply before I opened the door.

The bright sunlight stung my eyes, and I had to turn my head away before my eyes adjusted to the light and I turned to face the window—and him.

There he stood at the window, curtains parted, window opened, chilly air filling the room. He turned, and looked at me.

His hair was combed down, but his eyes were familiar and that smile still charming.

"Shuyan."

And his voice. I'd recognize it anywhere.

"Master Eugene." I smiled. We probably seen each other yesterday, but it felt like ages since I've seen him. Maybe I only ever really feel like I see him when he is in this room with me, not in the halls were we are master and maid, but here, were we share secrets and talk like friends.

He was dressed up already, in a crisp white shirt and formal green and golden embroidered vest, making him look regal, like a prince.

Yes, today might be the last day he'll be Master Eugene. Starting tomorrow he could be Lord Beardsley, and I'll never have the chance to call his name again.