Secrets In The Light

CHAPTER 3

On the other side of London, just entering the city accompanied by her entire family, Amy Grace Anson, the youngest of the three children of Baron Thomas Anson, was desperately trying to come to terms with her future reality. Her mother, Catherine, the Baroness is straddling her lap gently to calm her daughter's nerves down, but every single try is in vain.

If only Amy had known up until two hours ago that her future was about to change forever. Her parents never seemed to care about what was she wanted to do with her life, or her education. They simply assumed every decision was up to them. But there was no other truth to the crucial time of 1889.

Between the money, the land, the titles and politics, there was no room for women whatsoever. They were simply an accessory to society, a jewellery to man's arm.

Amy has always been aware of the reality that surrounded her, but she hoped one day things would change. That is why the surprise on her face could be readable clearly when her mother had plainly announced the horrid news to her, only minutes after getting in the vehicle to London.

"Listen to me, my darling. You are nineteen years old already, therefore, your father and I strongly believe that it is time for you to get married.", the Baroness explained as slowly as she could.

She wasn't a woman of patience, not in the slightest. Nobody in her family was, except her brother perhaps.

Michael Anson was the middle child of the family and the most adored one of them all. It was natural for a father to love his son more given he is the natural heir to the legacy. But for Michael, none of these things mattered, which is why he chose to enroll himself in the army and serve his country as best as he could.

On the other hand, there is Mary Helene Anson, the oldest sister and the one the Baron got rid of first, marring her with an old, ugly man, but wealthy enough to support the family. However, her so called wealth didn't last too long. Even though she still has the title of Lady Robinson, her late husband decided to leave everything to one of his bastards, leaving her and her entire family on the verge of poverty.

In this situation, the Baron has found only one solution and that was marring his youngest daughter as soon as possible. So when the news has spread into the papers that Earl of Essex has passed away and he is leaving everything to his son, he couldn't help himself but try and arrange a meeting with the young Lord Savile himself. He only hoped that Lady Rochford has played her part well enough.

Amy has seen too much of her parents real powers to manipulate, that is why, when her mother proposed this to her, she simply bowed her head down and whispered a quiet "Yes, mother." to her.

"Now, the new Earl might be young, but he will not accept bad manners and inappropriate conversations. You will make sure to never speak unless spoken to, always keep your head down and under no circumstances will you dare to ask him anything. Understood?", the woman carefully instructed her daughter, making sure everything was to run smoothly.

The young girl didn't really understand why is her mother always telling her those things, repeating them loudly and obnoxiously. Marriage has been the only thing her parents have prepared her for all her life, she knows these rules like the back of her hand. But nonetheless, her answer was just like the one before.

"Yes, mother."

She didn't know the details either, nor did she want to. If up until a couple of hours ago she used to have tea parties with her friends and not a care in the world, from now on, the responsabilities are going to crumble down on her shoulders the moment she steps in that hotel.

The papers have been speaking of the huge event for months now. The first hotel to have electric lights and running hot water in all Britain. There's something Amy has never truly witnessed before and as much as she despises the thought of this trip being about her possible engagement, she couldn't hold back the thrill of seeing such magnificent things before her eyes.

There was also the possibility of the new Earl of Essex to refuse her hand in marriage and simply turn his head around to walk away graciously. She's always believed to marry someone she truly loved with her whole heart. She has dreamed of it for so long, yet here she is, caged in a vehicle that is moving too slow for the sake of her nerves.

The Earl is young, Amy also knows that, but she couldn't hide the hypothetical thought of his looks, his smile, his eyes. How would her possible future husband look like? More than that, is he kind, loving and calm? Or is she going to have to spend the rest of her life trying her best to avoid his stare at all costs?

She has been observing her mother's behavior throughout the years. Catherine Anson has come from a shy newly mother to a devious old woman who cannot even stand her own husband. The Baroness would never admit to that, but her children have seen it, all of them. There is no love between the parents, not anymore at least. And that is exactly what Amy feared from the beginning: ending up exactly like her mother.

Too lost in her own thoughts, the young woman didn't even realize when the vehicle had stopped and the driver turned around to open the doors for them, revealing the most splendid picture someone could have the chance to see. The soft sun set covering the upper part of the hotel makes it look even more majestic, like taken from a fairy-tale in itself.

The view was breathtaking, exactly like she pictured it, but what made it realistic were the multiple people walking around, chatting with bright smiles on their faces as if this was the Paradise on Earth.

A footman welcomed them politely, helping them out with the bags they carried like they were ready to move here for eternity. However, Amy had only packed a small suitcase, ebough for the little time she intends to stay.

"Lord Anson, Lady Anson, welcome to Savile Hotel.", he greeted them as taught, bowing his head, a hand back, the other used for grabbing the heavy luggages.

Everybody was escorted to their suite, Amy and her sister Mery sharing a room, while their parents shared the other. Unfortunately, Michael couldn't be here with them today, the duties in the Army couldn't wait for his luxurious trip to a hotel to end and he was well aware of that. To this unfortunate event, he tried to apologise to his parents and sister, but the Baron never wanted to hear it. He simply burned the letters and never spoke of his son again.

"Tonight is going to be exquisite, Amy. I cannot belive that one day you will have all of this.", Mary spoke up, thrilled to be a part of his sister's happiness.

Amy just smiled at her at first, faking a neutral hand gesture towards the door, signaling her sister to make sure the door is closed. Mery has not been able to be too close to her younger sibling ovet the years, perhaps because marriage has worn her out and there seemed to be no light within her soul. Alter all, she is a noble with nothing left of her title.

That is why hearing about her parent's desire to marry Amy to a young man of high society gave her a glimpse of happiness just for a moment, up until she could take a better look at her sister's face.

"I will not have all of this, Mary. I will not have anything. He will own me and everything that comes with.", Amy sadly responded, taking a breath before slowly unpacking her clothes, streightening them to make sure they are ready for tonight.

"You are not happy about it. How could I have not seen it earlier?", her sister collapsed on the huge bed staring at the pure-white ceiling in awe.

Amy laughed at her statement, genuinely laughed, almost dropping her pink dress on the ground. There was nothing Mary could have done to prevent this marriage. There was nothing even God himself could have done to stop it. If her mother wanted it, then it would come true no matter what. She hated feeling so powerless, like the opportunities were slipping through her fingers every time. But how could she say no, when her mother says yes?

On the other side of the hotel, while Amy was starting to get ready for the big event of tonight, Harold has just finished telling his servants how he wanted the evening to run. He could tell some of them will fulfill every duty, while others will simply lay back and relax, but right now it didn't matter. The problem was that the maitre had fallen ill all of a sudden, so he needed someone to take her place quickly.

"Margaret, make sure to take Eugene's place for the night. And Clara, take a few girls and check for every room to be clean by the time the guests return from the party.", the man spoke loud and clear, to make himself heard over the croud of people gathered in the kitchen.

However calm he desperately tried to look in front of the people that work for him, there was no chance in hiding the drops of sweat coming down his forehead, some ending up on the collar of the expensive, white shirt and some of them on the back of his palm.

Sooner rather than later, the guests started to appear one by one, giving Harold no time to breathe between greeting any well-dressed woman or a narcissistic man. Maybe not all of them were like this, but to him, tonight, everyone looked the same. Some of the people present even attended his father's funeral and desired to explicitly enlighten him about it, searching for every detail they could find in the depth of the sea.

Like he hasn't been there.

For now, though, the time for his long awaited speech has come, forcing him to stand tall on the largest balcony of the hotel and look down at the sea of people who came here all for the same reason...money. How is he supposed to stand here and be kind to everybody when he very well knows all their intentions?

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for being here tonight.", he started, staring at a large candle placed in a nearby corner of the room. A candle who's beauty will fade away as soon as the lights turn on.

Harold hated the new fashion the electric lights in the hotel. It seemed like everything beautiful walked out the door as soon as the candlesticks were thrown out. He was not an old fashioned man, but when he liked something, he could never let it go. And this also applied to the candles.

What he actually liked to the whole new reality, was the so called telephone-room, built recently right next to the reception, so everyone could be in contact easily with his business. The truth was that telegrams would always get lost between the papers, so a phone call couldn't hurt at all.

"We have gathered here this evening not only to witness something as magical as the electric lights, but also to honor my father, George Savile, Earl of Essex. He was a father, a husband, a friend, a brother, but more than that, he was a man who cared. That is why, I know for a fact that he would have loved to be here tonight and celebrate with all of us this magnificent moment. ", Harold talked as he was watching the people under him stare into his shy, green eyes.

Perhaps he was not made for this life and perhaps he didn't even want it, but what is sure to be said is that this is what he has right now. And people think being a noble means having freedom...Fools. They don't know what life means.

"I would like for you to count backwards from ten with me. Let's all enjoy a wonder in itself.", Harold finished before quickly starting to count back from ten, just like he said.

The guest started accompanying him, one by one, up until everyone was counting in unison. He almost enjoyed this somehow quiet but still loud picture. His head wasn't counting anymore, only his mouth was. That is because his mind went somewhere else. First, to his beautiful, ill mother, who, as much as he wanted to, couldn't be here tonight either. Sitting locked up in her chamber, Harold thought he didn't just resemble her in looks, but also in spirit. The woman is now surrounded by so many people payed to help, yet she must be feeling so alone without her children by her side, even though she cannot recognize them.

Then, there is his sister, the feisty Anne-Rose, who only God knows where she is at the moment. Harold hasn't seen her in what feels like years, but is just a few months since she last went away. He vividly remembers her blue eyes glowing with excitement and pride when she came home to visit their mother. The world does her good, at least that is what Harold wants to think. And because he doesn't want to take these beautiful things away from her, it falls onto his shoulders to carry the family legacy.

The lights covering the whole room snapped Harold out of his trance, forcing his eyes to squint from the impact. Loud noises could be heard coming from the guest's mouths, awe spreading all over their faces. This was a spectacular moment indeed. No matter how much he hated them, he could not deny their beauty. From now on there won't be any wax spread all over the carpets and the servants will not waste time with polishing the lampads.

By the time everyone was by Harold's side, ready to congratulate him, flattering his father's ideas and wishing him good fortune, Margaret came rushing through the door of the salon, pushing through the people to faster get to her master.

When she finally ended up next to him, she leaned closer to whisper in his ear, assuring herself that nobody else can hear.

"My Lord, there is a problem in the kitchen.", she simply said, tiptoeing backwards to give him enough space for excusing himself.

"Gentleman, if you'll pardon me.", he softly bowed his head to them, not too much to give the wrong impression, but also not to little to appear rude.

Margaret decided to walk in front, even though she clearly knew doing such a thing was unacceptable. But to Harold, that didn't matter now. He only wanted to get this party over with and get back to his glass of whisky.

"What seems to be the problem, Margaret?", he asked exhausted, leaning against a misplaced chair in the middle of the kitchen.

"More people have fallen ill, Sir. We don't know the cause yet, but there isn't enough personnel to prepare the dishes and serve them tonight. We need more people.", she explained directly, looking straight to his tired eyes.

The old woman clearly noticed his weariness, his deep, green eyes were now struck by a dark shade of brown, turning them almost black. She could have felt sorry for him, but for whatever reason, she was very curious to see what the Earl decides to do in situations like this.

"What about Clara, Martha and the other girls?", he asked back with concern in his voice.

"Ill , My Lord.", Margaret stated back, pressing her lips together to wait for his actual response.

Harold took the time to think for a moment, letting silence take over the conversation. He took a deep breath in and let one out before sitting down on the same chair he was leaning against just minutes ago. He had two options here: either go back there and serve only what the kitchen servents were able to prepare until now, therefore ruining the atmosphere and the importance of this evening, or step up and do some chores himself.

Ever since he was a little boy, helping their cook in the kitchen was always a beautiful thing for him. He liked the smells he could create, and the taste of miraculous combinations before and after he baked them. His father never let him stay in there for too long, telling him a man of his title does not belong in the kitchen. Yet, there he was.

"Listen to me carefully, Margaret. I will need to switch from being out there with being in here for tonight. I will try to cook as much as I can for the time being, but I will need your help the moment I'll step out that door. Understand what I'm saying?", he started speaking, while taking off his suit jacket and vest, placing them gently on the hanger and grabbing an apron instead, to hook around his waist.

It has already been an hour and a half since the party has started and Amy couldn't find her place between the sea of people around her. She was eager to finally meet the man her mother keeps talking about, but at the same time, she is too afraid to be in his presence. Getting caught up in the midst of preparing for the moment itself, Amy lost track of time when it came to the Earl's speech and the beautiful lighting of the whole hotel.

She was sitting on her bed, looking at gowns when the light in her room magically turned on and she jumped out of her skin because of fear. But when she took a better look at the clock, in the powerful light, she couldn't believe her eyes.

What a big fuss for such a small moment, she thought.

Although, her missing the event meant she had a smaller chance of seeing the Earl of Essex. Her mother scolded her for being late. And now, all she can think about is why wouldn't the Earl come and talk to them already?

God, she needs a peaceful place to rest and hear her thoughts. And she desperately needs something stronger than apple juice. She might not be a heavy drinker, but seeing all the men with glasses filled with liquor, whiskey or a strong cocktail in their hands woke a strange appetite inside her.

Sneaking around different types of bodies, avoiding her family at all costs, Amy started to search for the closest escape she could get in all the chaos. A door caught her eyes as she was getting further and further away from the crowd. The door was big, corpulent, but well hidden with all the decorations that matched with the walls around. It looked like it was simply part of the decor.

Slowly pushing it, the smell of freshly baked bread and high quality stew hit her nostrils and now all she wanted was to be the first one to taste everything. Like a secret between herself and the walls of the kitchen. The more she stepped inside, her eyes were able to analyze the surroundings. A small woman, probably in her fifties was running the kitchen, giving orders to everyone around, an average man was preparing all the plates for the food to be served and the cook was well covered in flour by now, scratching his eyes from time to time to adjust his eyesight.

"Excuse me, Miss, you cannot be beck here.", the man with the plates turned to her, rushing to push her out of the kitchen.

"I'm sorry. I just needed a quiet place to clear my mind. Would it bother you if I stayed for a little longer?", she asked shyly, taking a step back until the answer she was waiting was given.

Before the man could give her any response whatsoever, the cook decided to step in and take the matters into his own hands. After all, being back in the kitchen must have its own unique perks.

"Let the lady stay, Gregory . It's madness out there.", Harold responded instead, clearing his face with a table cloth as well as he could.

"Yes, Sir."

Gregory's short acknowledgement was a surprise to Amy. Back at her house, the cook wasn't so respected in the household, but maybe that's different from place to place.

She took a seat on the same misplaced chair Harold had seated earlier, and watched the cook work his magic with ingredients.

"Do you have anything stronger around here? Pardon my daring, but if I want to go back, a glass of apple juice will not suffice.", she asked shyly, grabbing onto the counter to make herself more comfortable before giggling to the cook, who was now just amused by the whole situation.

Perhaps he needed something stronger as well.