The Demon Who Loved Me

Chapter-2

Danielle had a million images in her mind as she sat inside the manor house where her mother grew up. Would her grandmother be a stuffy noble lady or would she be loving and doting? Would she be a bony lady with grey hair or one of those ladies who always looked a decade younger than their age? She thought about a thousand other things as she sat in the creamy drawing room of the dowager baroness. She was received well by the servants of the house. The housekeeper, the butler, the cooks, and the maids were standing outside the front door awaiting her.

It was very strange for Dany, who was used to only a cook and a maid in her London household. They all bowed and curtsied to her. The introductions had taken a good ten minutes before she was led into the drawing-room. The housekeeper, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, instructed her to wait there while she fetched her grandmother- er step-grandmother. Danielle obeyed, her hands entangled in her lap. She looked at the doorway dozens of times in the last ten minutes, the silence of the mighty mansion weighing down on her. She felt very out of place, an intruder who had no business being here in this opulent room.

This all could have been a terrible mistake. Maybe her father had done this in jest, not knowing his demise was just around the corner. Stranger things had happened. But even as she was following this line of thought, Dany knew that couldn’t be. Her father might have been a jovial man, but he was not the kind of man that jested in the arrangements pertaining to his only daughter’s future.

As Dany was tormenting herself with her own thoughts, she heard footsteps leading towards the room she was in. They were faint, barely there. A lady’s footsteps. Like her mother and opposed to Dany, who walked like the thunder. She lost count of how many times her mother had chided her on that issue in her twenty years of life. Oh, but what Dany wouldn’t give to be chided like that again by her mother. She sniffled and made a gargantuan effort to keep her sorrow in her cheek. She didn’t want to appear as a weak maiden to her step-grandmother, Viola Hutter, for that was her name. She couldn’t claim to know the woman, but in her gut, she knew that Lady Hutter wouldn’t be a woman who would appreciate weakness.

And as though Dany’s thoughts had summoned the woman, she was there in the doorway of the drawing-room and then inside. Dany stood up immediately. She was not very much acquainted with the etiquette of the nobles. It was rare for commoners like her to mingle with the noble and aristocratic families in London, although her family was very well-to-do by commoner standards. But even she knew to stand up at the arrival of a baroness.

The baroness had pale blue eyes that seemed to assess Dany’s very soul. She must be at least sixty-five years old. The tall woman had worn a pale purple dress that appreciated her skin tone. Her hair was salt and pepper. She must have been slim in her younger days, but she was now rounded in a matronly way. Dany couldn’t read the older woman’s face as she approached her. She stood two feet away from her, raised her hand, and let it glide on Dany’s cheek.

“You look just like her. As young and lovely as the last time I had seen her. But you have dark hair, like him”

Dany knew she was talking about her mother. Priscilla Tucker. Formerly Priscilla Hutter. Many people had already said so. And Dany didn’t also miss the slight hint of disdain in the baroness’s voice when she mentioned her father. More than twenty years had passed, and that disapproval was still in her voice. Dany wondered if the older woman could accept her completely, knowing that she was half-commoner. Half him, as she so eloquently put.

Then she removed her hand and moved away a few feet as though she had just remembered herself. She took the chair across from Dany and gestured to her to sit.

“Have you had anything to eat?” Lady Hutter asked. Dany shook her head.

“The housekeeper had offered, of course. But I refused.” She said, not wanting to get any of the servants into trouble on her very first day in residence.

“But she should know better than to leave you famished.” The baroness said, her face still unreadable. Dany couldn’t understand if she was talking out of care or just good old manners. She rang the bell at her side and a skinny maid emerged at the doorway.

“Miss Tucker and I will be taking tea and scones.” Lady Hutter said, authority ringing in every word she uttered. The maid bowed and scurried away. This was a woman who ruled her household with an iron fist. Silence settled in the room while the older woman appraised Dany, making the latter move uneasily in her previously comfortable seat.

“Is this how you usually dress?” Lady Hutter asked, gesturing at the rather simple dark blue dress Dany was wearing.

“Umm...Yes?” Dany frowned, looking down at her dress.

“There is a lot of work for me,” She said. Dany thought the baroness would have sighed if she was the sort of woman to sigh. She didn’t understand what the baroness was talking about. Why would she be work? And why did she look at her dress with that much condescension? She knew what she wore was not the most fashionable dress in England, but these were no filthy rags either. Dany doubted if living with her grandmother would be the best course for her. She didn’t think she would fit here with her condescending noble grandmother, and that thought again made her feel alone in the world.

The maid arrived with tea and scones, which helped dissolve some awkwardness. At least, now she could avoid answering Lady Hutter’s questions while she was taking her tea. After ten minutes, when they both had finished their tea in a lady-like manner, Lady Hutter stood up, making Dany stand with her.

“The housekeeper will show you to your room. We will meet again at supper.” And with that, Lady Hutter turned around and walked out of the living room. Dany sagged as soon as she exited, leaning against the chair. She felt like all the energy had been sucked out of her body, leaving her an empty shell.

“Would you like to see your room now, Miss Tucker?” The housekeeper asked, standing at the doorway. Dany straightened her spine and nodded her head.

“I would love to.”

*************

And she loved it. She didn’t expect to. She didn’t like her step-grandmother. She thought the manor house too imposing and intimidating as she walked through the living room and up the stairs. It was an ancient place with a draft from age-old cracks making her shiver. The walls were made of stone and were adorned with paintings of broody old men and women who seemed to stare down at her with disapproval.

But this room- which was going to be her room, was different. It had three bay windows, which let as much light as possible on a cloudy day like that. White curtains hung on the windows, making the room look peaceful and welcoming. The four-poster bed was intricately carved and the white mattress and sheets looked welcoming. It was not just about the comfort. The room almost seemed home. There was something in the design and decoration of the room that made Dany relate to it.

“This used to be your mother’s room.” The housekeeper said hesitantly. It was evident from her guarded expression that she was not used to speaking unless spoken to. Dany turned towards her and smiled to let her know that she appreciated that piece of information. She looked around the room, imagining a younger version of her mother roaming here, setting flowers in the flower vase, sitting on the white ottoman, and reading a book from the small bookshelf on the wall. She imagined her mother standing at the window and enjoying nature.

While the housekeeper was overseeing the arrangements in the room, Dany strode towards the biggest window in the room. She parted the curtain aside and looked out. The mist was still in the air, but not as thick as before. Through that mist, Dany saw the garden her window had overlooked. She gasped as she looked at the carpet of blue flowers that covered the ground below.

As a girl who had been born and raised in the mechanical city, Dany was enchanted by the beauty in front of her eyes. She wanted to be there- amidst the blue flowers that were bobbing their heads in the wind.

“I would like to take a walk in the garden,” Dany informed the housekeeper and made her way downstairs. For the first time in a month, she found her mind rid of the grief and uncertainty and filled with curiosity and glee. She walked out the front door and through the garden until she reached the area where the beautiful and mysterious blue flowers grew. Dany crouched on her knees, forgetting all about the lady-like manner in which she had intended to behave in her grandmother’s house. She ran her slender fingers on the petals of the flowers, an involuntary smile creeping on her lips.

“Beautiful little things,” She said to herself. “What could be their name?”

“Bluebells,” She heard a deep voice say from behind her. Although she didn’t see the face to which the voice belonged, she could detect a mischievous tone in the voice. She whipped her head around, still crouching. The sun chose the exact moment to make his appearance out of the clouds. Dany found herself towered over by a man, his face blocked by the sunlight. Dany shielded her eyes using her hand as a visor and stood up.

She could now see his face and she resisted the urge to gasp. He was handsome. As beautiful as they come. His hair was blonde and long, which Dany was sure was frowned upon in refined society. His eyes were blue. A deep shade of blue that reminded Dany of the ocean. With a sharp nose and full lips, she thought he was perfect. But who was he? She didn’t know anyone else resided here except her grandmother.

She still observed him, although it was terrible manners. He was wearing a mud-stained white shirt with the top two buttons undone. He was wearing khaki breaches and no shoes. His skin was tanned golden, no doubt from outdoor work. As soon as she saw his full attire, Dany understood who he was. He must be the gardener. That explained his comment about the flowers earlier. Dany found herself disappointed. A Gardner, hmmm. Someone she shouldn’t dally with.

“You must be, Miss Tucker.” The man said with an open smile that was quite rare on a servant’s face. They rarely met your eye.

“I am.” She confirmed. “And you are?”

“I am Andrew Locke at your service. I am Hutter House’s gardener. My family has been serving this manor for generations.” With that, he took her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. As a young woman in London, Dany had her hand kissed a lot of times by a lot of men. But none resonated within her like this. It might be partly because it was supposed to be forbidden. All the men she had met and flirted with until now had been gentlemen and scholars. They were all well-bred and sophisticated. They all hid under a thick curtain of manners and politeness. There was always a wall around them. It was like she could never see the real man behind all the facade. But the gardener that was standing in front of her with his lips on her hand was raw. There was nothing duplicitous about him. She was sure if she talked with him he would not hide behind meaningless talks about Oxford and horse races.

This was absurd, she thought. Why was she thinking such thoughts about a man whom she had met just a minute earlier, and a servant no less?

“I take it you have loved my garden.” He said, leaving her hand. He plucked a flower from the multitude of the bluebells and handed it to her. She took it hesitantly, a blush as lovely as the flowers around her blossoming in her cheeks. There was something so enchanting in taking flowers from a man.

“You shouldn’t have, really,” Dany said. “You must have grown these flowers with utmost care and love. Doesn’t it pain you to pluck them?”

“No,” He shook his head, that enchanting smile still playing on his lips. “What are flowers for if not to be touched by the hands of a beautiful maiden as you.”

Dany’s lips twitched. From the lips of any other man, it would have sounded like silly flattery, but from Andrew’s mouth, it sounded like he meant it. It was the strangest thing in the world. Everything he said seemed great to Dany. What was it that was making her hang on his every word? Was it his beauty? Was she that shallow?

No, it was curiosity; she decided. It was true he was one of the most handsome men she had ever laid her eyes on. But that was not it. Her interest was piqued by the incredible fact that he was a servant. Not even a tutor or butler who was supposed to have at least some degree of education. This was a gardener who was supposed to be rough and unrefined. He shouldn’t know anything but toiling in soil, weeding, and nipping. But here he was speaking in a flowery language like the charming princes in the novels she used to sneak from her mother’s library to read. He seemed to her an enigma.

“You have a way with your words,” Dany admitted to him.

“Coming from a woman like you, I am taking that as a great compliment.” He said.

“Well, I also have to compliment you on your gardening. These flowers look exquisite. And they also look exotic.”

“Do you like gardening very much, Miss Tucker?”

“Oh, no. We do not have much space for gardening in London. We live in tiny little spaces. You can’t even dream about places like this in the city.”

“But you seem very much interested in nature. Would you like to learn the techniques of gardening, then? How to grow, care and nurture them?”

Dany looked at him, surprised. He was offering her lessons. That was very forward of him. But Dany didn’t want to refuse. She could already envision her days here. Lonely and boring. Maybe this was what she needed. Or if she was being honest with herself, he was what she needed. She smiled at the man- a radiant smile- one of that kind in a long time.

“That seems excellent, Mr. Locke. I am looking forward to your lessons.”

“Ah, you just made my day, Miss Tucker.”

“Miss Tucker!” Dany heard her name being called and turned in that direction. A maid was standing near the house, looking at Dany. “The housekeeper wants to give you a tour of the manor.”

“I’ll be there shortly,” Dany called back to her. The maid nodded and went back into the house.

“When will we start our lessons?” Dany asked, turning back excitedly to Andrew.

“I’ll let you know,” Andrew said, with a strange expression on his face.

“See you soon, Mr. Locke,” Dany said, turning away to go into the house.

“Looking forward to it, Miss Tucker,” He said, and those words weighed with a lot of promise.