Lydia

Unexpected Visitor

    I'd been in my room for the next three hours pacing about in a vain attempt to wrap my mind around the mystery that is Mr. Wyatt. My sisters and Mama came to my chambers after my outburst in the drive. I wouldn't dare open the door. Mama must have gone straight away to fetch Papa. His heavy footfalls echoed about the hall getting louder as they neared me. Mama was in a fit when he simply tried my door handle, and, discovering it locked, turned to her and said that they would obey my wishes for privacy. She huffed to herself and retreated down the hall.

     As one set of footfalls faded Papa called out to me. "My dear Lydia, I do wonder what has put you in such a state, but I can see you are not ready to divulge your reasons as of yet. I will wait for you, help you in any way my child. However, I do respectfully request you tell me if you are quite all right. Knock once for yes, twice for no."

     I came to the door in a hurry. Papa had always been a patient, understanding man. My hand rose to the door and softly I rapped once.

     "I see. I shall retire to my study, Bean. If you wish to talk, come find me." With that I heard him also retreat down the hallway.

     Knowing not where to start my inquiries, I sat at my vanity staring at my reflection. The earlier excitement finally taking its toll as my eyelids threatened to close. My body finally won out as my blue eyes did just that.

     Darkness greeted me when I finally awoke. I made to stretch and knocked down a broom, the bristles scratched my feet in its descent. I let out a shriek and quickly covered my mouth. Where am I? Hesitantly, I put my hands out in front of me. Feeling uneasy, I moved about the tiny room. My foot found a small pail. It must have been for cleaning soot from a fireplace, the heady smell of ashes meeting my nose. Turning to my left I immediately bumped into a series of shelves. Another pail fell from the shelf I ran my forehead into and crashed. First into my shoulder, then continued to clatter about as I tried to capture the blasted item.

     I dared not breath for a moment as I listened. How strange that there is absolutely no one about to witness the horrendous noises I've just made. Stranger still to think of how I came to be in this servant's closet.

     I turned myself around once more and dusted off my sleeping dress. Pondering for a moment I found myself at a loss. This is definitely not my house! More determined to get out of this confounded room I marched forward. My foot caught the handle of the broom and I tripped. As I fell my hand found the handle of the door. I gripped the handle swinging my body in a downward arch as it opened.

     Righting my feet I pulled myself to standing. I was in great need of a bath as I, again, attempted to dust off the soot. When it became apparent that my cleanliness was not to come, I glanced around the long hallway. Beautiful sconces adorned the walls between breathtaking landscapes. Following the hall to my right I took in every masterful scene.

     I was admiring a pond scene with floating lilies when I heard a clock striking the hour.  How could it be four in the morning?   Walking further I came to another hallway, my choices being left or right. Sighing to myself I turned right.  This hall had many windows, and portraits of those I assumed to be family. "Lord James Finewell," was the first painting. A robust man with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and thin lips. He wore the fashions of a fourteenth century nobleman.

     Wandering further down, taking in more names and appearances, I was startled to come across one "Lord Michael Wyatt." Not only did the name alert me to whose home I had mysteriously entered, but he bore a striking resemblance to the current Mr. Wyatt.  He could have passed for a twin if not for the fact that Lord Wyatt had dark brown locks, and a long scar running from just above his left eye and down his cheek. Surprisingly, the blemish didn't detract from his looks. It gave him an air of masculinity, as if it enhanced his handsome features. His Elizabethan attire complimenting him as well.