A Mouse & The Fallen Star

Chapter 9. The Effect

A group of elder men, who all dressed impeccably, paced back and forth in the parlor. It was typical of Luc to make them wait this long. That man could be extremely intolerable sometimes, but they needed him, so they had to swallow their pride and endure his rude behavior.

"My Lords, Master Luc apologies for keeping ye. He would be here shortly. In the meantime, please enjoy some more refreshments."

The fragrance of exotic tea immediately calmed the nerves of the upset politicians. They had been here since seven o'clock sharp this morning. Almost two hours had passed and they still couldn't see a corner of the man they had come here for. The only person they had seen was this butler, who had just given them the old news that his master would be here shortly, then filled them with more tea.

One man with an admirable beard ripped the monocle off his nose bridge and got up. "If Master Luc didn't want to see us today, let's be on our way!"

The men tried their best to calm him down, but Mr. Big Beard, who was obviously the gang leader had none of it.

"No, it's enough! I am leaving! Gentlemen, Master Luc's time is precious, and so is ours. Some of us actually have works to do!"

With that, he stomped out of the room. The men had no choice but to follow Mr. Big Beard like a flock of birds. It created a huge commotion, but within minutes, the room returned to its original silence.

"Finally, some peace."

Albert flopped down on a velvet armchair that barely contained his body and wiped his forehead. His long legs sprawled out on the floor. He hated dealing with these nobles and politicians just as much as Master Luc but he was always the one who had to come out and entertain them. What could he do? It was the life of a servant.

He shouldn't complain though. Master Luc had treated him well and given him opportunities that someone with his background should never dream of. No one had done that for Albert. Without Master Luc, he would have no life, no future at all. Albert owed the man everything.

Some clatter upstairs got Albert's attention. He knew what his master was doing at this moment: Camping outside the lass' room in the same manner that Miss Lucy's pomeranian always did. It had become the routine every morning.

His master, just as Miss Lucy's wee beast, was obsessed with the lady behind the door, no matter how much he'd like to pretend otherwise. The only problem was this lass they had brought back was no lady at all. She was a skinny-malinky, clarty slave who looked like a weasel at death's door.

Albert wondered what Master Luc's plan with her was and how long his fascination would last. The whole thing had taken Albert by surprise, to say the least.

His master loved new toys, but above all else, he valued privacy. Despite the wild bachelor lifestyle he promoted, Master Luc actually hated parties. He hated mingling, rubbing elbows, socializing. He hated the elites who constantly tried to be his friends. He didn't hire any servants, which was extremely unusual for a man of his status. The house had fallen into absolute shambles because of that, and he couldn't care less. Albert had begged Master Luc to get someone to clean the house once a month, to which the man had reluctantly agreed. However, Master Luc had specified that the maid could only come whenever he was out.

Pretty much everything people knew about Master Luc was what the man chose to portray. Who was he? No one knew. He was different from everyone Albert had come across, rich or poor, but how so? Albert couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Bringing someone home was out of character for Master Luc, and this was stated mildly.

Shaking his head, Albert stood up and gathered all the half-empty teacups into a tray. The near future started to look quite interesting.

Bessie looked at the beautiful face next to hers in the mirror while combing through the girl's silky black hair.

Amelia was at the peak of her natural beauty. Such a sight with her melancholy, dreamy emerald eyes, rosy cheeks, and plump, sensual lips. An excellent companion to any man who was lucky, or wealthy, enough.

Sadly, nothing lasted forever. Not in their business, especially. A few years down the road, if the girl couldn't secure a permanent arrangement with some man, preferably wealthy, things would get difficult for her.

It was certainly not Bessie's problem, however, she couldn't help but feel concerned. Bessie was never the sentimental type, but Amelia had been with her for such a long time that it was hard not to get attached.

"Instead of sulking, you know you could pay him a visit, right?"

Bessie twirled Amelia's long strands of hair ever so gently, but it still caused a frown on the girl's face. Her hair was extremely fine and easy to get tangled, but the dull pain on her scalp was not the only thing that bothered Amelia.

Luc's attitude last time had broken her heart. It was not the first time he had acted that way, but this time, he couldn't be more clear. He had also not been back in weeks and she knew the reason why.

"How could I?" Amelia lifted her eyes to Bessie. "Showing my face there...People would talk. He would hate me even more."

"Oh, he doesn't hate you. How could any man hate you, Birdie? Besides, you can be a little discreet," Bessie winked.

Amelia frowned again at the suggestion, but what really irked her was the nickname.

It was Bessie's great joy to assign every girl with a different one. Some were sweet while others were playful. It depended.

Somehow, out of all the nicknames available, she had to be 'Birdie'. Somehow, coincidentally, she had to always be reminded of what she used to be, what she had done, what had been taken away from her, but Amelia didn't have the heart to tell Bessie to stop.

Maybe she enjoyed it, the torture. After all, it was the punishment she deserved.

The past was a dull knife that dug, saw, and twisted in her heart day and night. It never slept. The person who used to make her heart sing every time he called her 'Birdie' was not here anymore. He was somewhere, six feet under, in an unmarked grave, but that was only Amelia's imagination. The truth was she didn't know.

One thing she knew for certain. Even in death, she could never join him.

Amelia shook the memories off her head and put the powder box down. She stood up abruptly. Her hair was yanked, much harder this time, but she paid it no mind. She'd had enough.

No one kept her waiting, even Master Luc. She missed him, but what more important was she needed to reheat things with him fast. He was still her number one candidate.

Amelia didn't want to end up with the old Baron, or just anyone. She had standards and Luc had set the bar even higher. She couldn't sit here and watch her years of effort with him waste away.

Amelia looked down at the small empty courtyard and after a while, she turned back.

"Bessie, could you help me pick an outfit?"