Astoria

f o r t y - t h r e e

"And make sure you get them clean," snapped Lady Catherine from the parlor. "When I return from my visit with my niece and my sister, I expect them to be up to dry in the washroom."

Meredith filled the wash bucket with water and began to soak the garments numbly.

"Do you understand?" yelled the impatient lady from the next room over.

"Yes, Madame," said Meredith, rolling her eyes at the woman's rudeness. This woman was nothing like Isabella. Of course, this work served to remind her how lucky she was that she was Isabella's lady's maid and not the servant of someone such as Lady Catherine. Still...it hurt to be called "plain" or "too thin" and the like. A part of her pride had been stung. However, it couldn't hurt worse than the part of her that ached over Nash's capture.

I do so hope that Antony will find some sort of clue as to where they've taken him... She sighed and began scrubbing the Lady Catherine's undergarments against the wash board once more. She smirked. She had never, in all her days of working for rich ladies, seen a woman who had their servants wash their underwear by hand.

She soon finished and had the garments hanging on a small line that Lady Catherine had had her string across the washroom. She shook her head as she looked at the little white lace things on the line. Lady Catherine was certainly a strange woman.

She retreated into the bedroom to put away Catherine's clothes. There were several trunks of clothing: dresses that needed to be hung, each on a hanger, and then placed in the closet and the bureau. She finished with these and then stood, her back aching slightly from spending so much time kneeling on the floor.

The next chore that Lady Catherine had insisted upon was having her lady's maid do a thorough dusting of the entire suite of rooms. "Any bit of dust gives me hay fever," she had sniffed to Meredith. Meredith had groaned inwardly but had nodded meekly.

She really couldn't understand how someone as nice as Isabella could have an aunt that was as rude and insensitive as the Lady Catherine.

The jobs done for the moment, and Lady Catherine having not returned, she left the room for a bit of a break.

Perhaps Ramona could spare time for some hot chocolate.

She made her way down to the kitchen, where she found Ramona sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee, taking a break from the work of cooking.

"Ramona!" she called, giving the cook a little wave. As soon as Ramona had caught sight of Meredith, she was off of her stool and enveloping Meredith into a motherly hug.

"Oh child," she said, sympathetically. "I heard about what happened to your brother. How are you faring?"

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," she said, forcing a smile. "I'm keeping busy by serving as the Lady Catherine's lady's maid."

She saw the look of disgust that crossed Ramona's face. "That Catherine is a nightmare! It's a wonder that she's even related to Princess Therese! By looks or actions... That woman is horrid."

"She had me wash her undergarments by hand."

Ramona looked incredulous, then snorted with laughter. "Well if that isn't the funniest thing I've heard all day!" She paused for a few more rounds of chuckling.

Meredith soon found herself laughing along with her.

"Anyways," said Ramona, catching her breath. "What can I do for you?"

"I just wondered if you had time to sit with me and have a cup of hot chocolate. Or coffee, since you prefer it."

Ramona smiled. "I'd love to. Just let me pour myself a fresh cup of coffee and get you a mug of chocolate."

What seemed only moments later, Meredith was seated at the counter with Ramona, a mug of steaming hot chocolate before her. She took a sip, the smell and taste carrying her back to two nights ago when Antony had given her hot chocolate in an attempt to make her feel better. She set the cup down, feeling an ache inside her at the thought of Antony.

Two different worlds, she thought, setting down her cup and looking at it somewhat sadly. I may as well be invisible.

"Is something bothering you, hon?"

She turned to see Ramona looking at her, her hazel eyes full of concern.

"Oh, Ramona," she said, her voice cracking a bit. "It's just...so many things..."

"Oh sweetie..." said Ramona, opening her arms to Meredith. She gladly fell into the cook's arms. She was glad for Ramona's motherly presence. The plump cook patted her back comfortingly.

"There there, child," she said softly. "Just tell me what's wrong."

"I can't...I mean...It's hard to explain...Everything lately is just all...it's a bit much..." She took a deep breath and rested her head on Ramona's chest, allowing herself to feel, at least somewhat, the safety of a mother's arms. It made her feel better, but at the same time, it made her miss her own mother.

At least, if everything went the way she hoped, Antony would soon return, bringing her sisters and her mother with him.

Antony had wanted to go straight to Dunkirk. He had wanted to do nothing more than march straight up to the door of the Ellingstons' small home and knock, presenting Meredith's mother with the letter from her daughter.

However, he found himself making camp between Dunkirk and Hampshire along with the two squadrons of the army that had arrived there several hours before he and his small group of men. Kade had insisted that, for precautionary reasons, the entire area be scouted before he could go to Dunkirk. Even then, he would have to take a guard along with him.

He frowned, sitting on the small cot inside his tent. He thought of Meredith. Was she waiting, back at the palace, for her family to come? Was she worried that something might happen to them just like it had to Nash?

He laid down on the cot, flat on his back, stretching out and looking at the ceiling, his arms crossed beneath his head. He knew that he was prone, on occasion, to impatience. At most times, it did not serve him well.

He sighed and turned over, facing the side of his tent. He was tired; he had been awakened early two mornings ago, and had slept little last night. He attempted to sleep. At least if he must wait, he could get some much-needed rest. However, he found himself unable to quiet his mind enough for sleep to come. He sat up once more, frowning intently at the other side of the tent. All he was waiting for was for Kade to come back and say that the scouts had found nothing. Then he would ride immediately for Dunkirk.