The Mask of New Paris ✓

XII. The Housekeeper

The days pass by and Reed takes me along to the city with him. I spend an awful lot of time with his mother who enjoys showing me off to anyone she knows, inviting numerous people over for tea in her glamorous house in Paradise Grove.

It is one of those days where Reed has a meeting in the city, about stuff he's acting even more suspicious about now that I know of his true occupation. He did inform me that the mission he's on, requires him to keep an eye on Papineau Plantation, hence why he tried to get that job in distribution. He doesn't want to share any of the other details.

Mrs. Whitacre indulges me in the secret that her go to boutique has lost one of their dressmakers. Apparently, she had an affair with one of the customers' husband and the store didn't want any bad publicity coming from that relationship, which meant the lady had to leave.

"Such a shame really... Madame Pearle offers high quality service and the designs are normally foolproof. You can just watch the boutique go down as the matrone can't find someone else." She shakes her graying hair and pricks her fork delicately in the turkey sandwich. A bit of mayonaise drips out of the other side.

"Perhaps we can step by later on?" I suggest, taking a sip from my lemonade and vacantly staring out of the terrace of Beau Garden. People are rushing by in the midday heat. Women are wearing big sun hats decorated with the wildest design and are glaring passerby's down from beneath their round sunglasses.

I tuck at the mid length sleeve on my arm. The bruise on my shoulder has turned a greenish yellow over time. Reed and I decided not to let anyone know of what has transpired on that one evening for we don't know exactly who's with and who's against us.

"How are things going between you and Reed?" Amelia Whitacre suddenly says, placing the fork precisely next to her now empty plate and folding the napkin double before she places it underneath the fork. She looks me directly in the eye, her blue eyes piercing through mine.

I look at her, baffled and thrown off guard. Never before has she directly asked after the relationship between Reed and I.

"Well, it's been a couple of weeks since you're married now. I assume you're both enjoying the marital life." She smiles knowingly.

"We're growing accustomed to each other." I manage to let out. She doesn't have to know that since a few days I sleep in the same bed as her son, afraid the nightmare of a few days ago might come to life again. I look down at my plate, pricking the lettuce that is left on one side.

"I'd say there's more goin' on..." Amelia says decidedly, grinning from ear to ear. She folds her hands in her lap and leans against the back of her chair, relaxed. As if there's not a care in the world, unaware a bunch of criminals is hunting down her son.

At my silence, she continues "Honey, don't act so baffled. It's clear to see that there's something more between you. I wouldn't call it love yet, but friendship to say the least. It is more than some people will know in their entire marriage."

An evening being scared to death by intruders might cause that to a relationship, I think but I wisely keep my mouth shut. Amelia lets out a laugh. I decide I like the way Mrs. Whitacre laughs. It's loud but yet refined. It seems like she wants the world to know she's a happy but is secretive to her reasons why. Her hand, bare of any jewelry, wraps around her pearl necklace as she inches closer as if to indulge me in another secret.

"That's nothing to be ashamed off, Annabelle. The contrary! It does me good to see my son happy." She leans back again, letting her eyes roam over the passing crowd, vaguely scanning the passing sun hats and parasols.

"I am glad I've come to know you, as well. You are very pleasant company." She finally states, letting out a happy sigh before she reaches for her water induced with limes.