A Love Worthy

Chapter Four

The household had fallen into a state of robotic depression. The servants carried on with their daily tasks seemingly aware of the desolated cloud that had fallen on the plantation. Several dispirited days had passed since their mistress was claimed from illness and a heaviness settled.

The servants grew fearful of their dark laird who barricaded himself behind closed doors and took to the bottle. He rarely ventured from the study, not even to the fields that he neglected so carelessly. Many knew to stay clear for his demeanor had blackened dangerously and they feared he would succumb to the dreaded fate that which his father before him suffered. The servants whispered that the bottle would be his undoing, if not the brandy than surely the frightening darkness that slowly encased his soul. They feared all was lost for their lord.

Sleep was peaceful. Sleep eluded the feelings that all but threatened to drain her of life. Her eyes fluttered open and instantly Ginelle felt the sudden blow of heartache. She rolled from the window where rivulets of sunlight filtered in through the drapes. She clenched her eyes against the tears that she refused to shed. How many times must she cry for another loved one lost to her?

Someone was stoking the fire within the hearth. She didn't bother to open her eyes, having adjusted to the servants but simply gripped the coverlet more firmly and pulled it to her chin.

An unseen force jerked the blanket away and her eyes opened on their own accord. She studied the older woman standing at the end of the bed, signs of depression clearly written on her pinched face. The woman had once been intimidating with her assertive, dark stare and the firm set of her mouth but over the years the two of them had established a genuine relationship and here lately, Lucile was her only means of comfort.

"I cannot allow you to waste away in this room." Lucile stated firmly, moving to stand at Ginelle's side. "Tis been nearly a fortnight and you continue to wallow in bed." Her stern expression revealing nothing of the grief that she endured on the inside but Ginelle could see an indication that she had not slept well or eaten much since Eloise's passing. Despite her solemn disposition Ginelle had always admired the older woman for she had an unrelenting maternal nature, just as her mistress.

She pulled herself upright and leaned against the headboard, instinctively raising her hand to block the sun from her weary eyes. She felt the immediate heaviness settle in her chest and the urge to lie back down. "Lucile-" she blinked away tears as she looked up at the older woman. "What should I do?" her voice shook as she released the tears and a sob lodged in her throat.

Lucile settled on the bed and gently grasped Ginelle's shoulders, "You will remain here, at Ashford."

Ginelle shook her head, her eyes doubtful. "You and I both know that I do not belong here."

Lucile reached out and gently grabbed her chin, "And you and I both know that here is where Eloise would want you to be."

Ginelle wanted to believe Lucile for her old fears had resurfaced with Eloise's death. Foolishly, she had allowed herself to become attached to these people, even this austere woman sitting before her who had been against her arrival from the beginning. She had grown to love them as they loved her. She had established many friends but she was not of noble birth and this home was not her own. She was an imposter; always have been. There was no denying her rank.

As if sensing her thoughts, Lucile said, "Why would you want to leave, after all that Eloise has done? It would all be for naught."