Pricing The Heart

Chapter 41

Eloise maneuvered through Bellerose House with ease, familiar with the halls of the mansion that had provided her shelter for several months. She loved this house, she thought, leaning over the balustrade as she scanned the foyer. She loved it, not merely for its grandeur, but for its occupants; for the family whose kindness saved her life.

She shook her head as she considered what cruel fate might have befallen her but for the Deckers. Surely she'd be destitute, or worse, dead, her body left to rot on the streets of New York. She'd arrived in the city twelve months ago penniless. Unskilled without prior experience or recommendation, she was denied employment. She was neither a competent cook, nor did she have the expertise to oversee a household as a housekeeper. Twice, she applied for the position of a maid but was turned down.

For many nights, while she cried herself to sleep in the flophouse, she cursed herself for coming to America. After three weeks of penury, she decided to swallow her pride and write a letter to David, informing him of her plight and begging for his aid in returning to England. She was on her way to the post office to deliver the letter when she bumped into a newspaper boy in her haste. Mumbling a hurried apology, she bent to help gather the bundles of newspapers that littered the curb, and caught sight of the words;

WANTED; Governess to oversee two young children, ages ten and seven. She must be educated, having completed a formal education in a Finishing School. Preferably a fine, polished English woman between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five.

For the first time since she left London, hope filled her heart as she emptied her purse and paid the disgruntled boy for the newspaper. She never sent the letter. She instead showed up in Bellerose House. It didn't matter that she'd been three hours late for the interview, dressed in rags, and lacking the required letter of reference, Mrs Decker had shown great charity in hiring her.

She smiled at the memory. Releasing her grip on the balustrade, she turned to the stairs. The cold marbles tickled her bare feet as she made her way down. She reached the foyer and turned toward the narrow hallway, nearly bumping into Mr. Thinner. The butler gave her a once over and frowned when he spotted her bare feet. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but she held a finger to her lips, silencing him.

"Hide and seek," she mouthed, to which the older gentleman rolled his eyes and shook his head, before continuing on his way.

Eloise stifled a laugh. She was certain the servants were yet to acquaint themselves with her ways of governing the children, but at least they didn't appear annoyed by it. Once, a maid had expressed gratitude to Eloise for keeping the children occupied and distracting them from carrying out mischievous tricks on the servants.

She entered the living room, her gaze sweeping the lavish furniture for signs of the children. Her smile broadened when she spotted a small bulge behind the white curtain. Rosaline! With only one hiding spot, the seven-year-old was terrible at this game. Penelope, the oldest of the two, was tucked securely under the couch, and but for her elbow that stuck out the edge, Eloise wouldn't have found her.

Once Eloise had uncovered both girls' hiding place, she began by exposing Penelope, before dragging a giggling Rosaline out from behind the curtains.

"Time for bed," Eloise announced.

"Oh please, Miss Lydia, one more game before bed!" Penelope said, addressing Eloise by the new name she'd chosen for herself; Lydia. The name had been her mother's. Upon her departure from England, she'd changed her name and prefix, leaving not only her identity behind, but her marital status as well. Here, she was an unmarried young lady, having buried the memories of her traumatic marriage to James in the Atlantic.

"Yes! I suggest we play blind man's buff," Rosaline piped, clasping both hands before her. Wisps of blonde hair framed her face, and with lovely blue eyes, she sought to manipulate Eloise. She shared the same features with her sister. But for the height difference, the two would have passed for twins.

Eloise shook her head. "It is quite late."

"But we're not sleepy." Rosaline folded her arms.

"I'm certain I have a tale to tell that shall have you snoring in mere seconds." Eloise grinned. "Come now." She held out her hands to both girls, who took them while murmuring their displeasures.

The party made their way to an extravagant bedchamber on the second floor of the building, fit for two princesses. The purple carpet swallowed her feet as they entered the room, and once Eloise had helped the girls into their matching nightgowns, she tamed their curly blonde locks with a brush and pulled them into single braids behind their heads, before tucking them into the massive canopy bed in the center of the room.

She began telling them a story to quiet them down, an old folktale her mother had often told. It was nearly an hour before they fell asleep. She tiptoed out of the room, careful not to disturb them as she quietly closed the door behind her and entered her room next door. Once inside, she settled on the chair by the dresser, her shoulders sinking. She was exhausted, she thought, staring at her image in the mirror. The sacks underneath her eyes bore witness to the sleeplessness she endured the evening before. Last night, like every other night, she'd fallen asleep thinking about David—longing for him, yet knowing she would never have him. Somehow, her thoughts morphed into a nightmare, one where David married another woman. She'd woken up crying and hadn't slept since then.

Even now, the thought of David with another woman caused tears to spring to her eyes. But she didn't give into them, for she feared she might suffer another migraine as a result. She instead focused her attention on combing and braiding her hair. She slipped out of her yellow day dress, a slight shiver running down her spine as a chilly breeze from the open window washed over her bare skin. Hurriedly, she slipped into a blue nightgown, then made her way to the window to close it. It was then she saw an approaching carriage.

A visitor, perhaps. How uncouth of them to call at such an ungodly hour. Eloise didn't think there was a house in England who would open their gates to such a late caller, but she also knew the Americans were quite... odd. Perhaps carefree was the word. Her employers, Mr. and Mrs Decker, were nothing like the British ton. Not only did they openly show their affection for each other, they often played with their children and conversed with their servants.

Drawing the window panes close as the carriage halted by the front door, she covered the gray curtains and settled in bed. She closed her eyes, the darkness immediately giving way to the image of David. He sat beside her in the darkness, his arms holding her firmly to himself, the soft scent of his cologne teasing her senses as she listened to the soothing sound of his voice. She lay losing herself to the memories of David for what felt like an eternity, before a soft knock dragged her back to the present.

"Who is it?" she called, her annoyance clear in her voice.

"Stella, Miss Lydia."

She climbed out of bed and opened the door. "Hello, Stella."

"Good evening, Miss Lydia. Mr. Decker wishes to have a word with you right away."

Mr. Decker? She wondered about the urgency of the matter at hand, knowing Mr. Decker wouldn't think to disturb her rest if the matter could be delayed until morning.

"Very well. I shall require a few minutes to change back into my day dress. Please let him know I shall be joining him shortly."

Stella nodded. "He awaits you in the rose garden."

Eloise frowned. She opened her mouth to question why Mr. Decker would request to speak to her in the garden and not his study, but Stella had already begun making her way down the long hallway.

Was she in trouble? She knew Mr. Decker was a quiet man. Although he'd found great wealth in the banking industry, he was fascinated with rare artifacts and often spent his free time tucked away in his study, with his nose buried in several books. Perhaps today, while she ran around the house playing with the children, she distracted Mr. Decker from his important musings. Perhaps he was displeased by her behavior and determined to fire her. He probably arranged for the meeting to take place outside because he thought he might resort to yelling in his displeasure and didn't wish to awaken the sleeping house in the process. Her heart sank with the thought. She made her way to the rose garden on shaky feet, determined to apologize for her behavior, unwilling to lose her job.

Pausing by the entrance of the garden, she let out a shaky breath and clasped her hands before her. She mustered what was left of her courage before continuing on the cobbled path into the garden.

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