Lucy Wickshire

Chapter One (4)

Shilla soon stood before the headmistress' door. She was supposed to report to the head maid but was redirected to the headmistress. She took in two deep breaths as her thoughts scattered in different directions. She remembered the look on the Lady Wickshire's face and fear like never before settled in her heart. She could walk in there and say what she had heard; after all, she did not want to disappear. She knew the choice before her was clear. This is what she was employed to do and she had every intention of doing it right. Knocking twice, a calm voice called to come in. She walked into the office with a confidence she had never before experienced.

“Report.” the headmistress ordered without looking up.

“Pardon?” she found herself asking the lady before her.

“Are you new?” the headmistress frowned.

“No, headmistress” Shilla answered. For some reason, she had lost all fear.

“Then, why do you need to be told what to do?” the lady asked.

“I’m sorry headmistress, I still do not understand.” Shilla maintained her ignorance.

“What did the Earl of Morge want that he came all the way to see Lady Wickshire?”

“Oh, that. Forgive me headmistress, it seems there is a meeting he is attending and was entrusted to deliver painting drafts to my lady.” Shilla found herself answering.

“Drafts?”

“My lady says, it's a... hand sketch of... the final outcome of the painting for... her tea room.” Shilla found words from somewhere she was sure not her head.

“Hmm?” the headmistress raised a brow in confusion.

“One of my lady's brilliant ideas.” Shilla said.

“You may leave.” the headmistress said and Shilla curtsied and left.

The headmistress watched the maid leave as she sat on her large oak desk, dazed. Her brows pinched together as she seemed deep in thought. Too long did she remain so, that she did not notice the man who entered and lazily leaned against the office door.

“My lady?” she finally said the words she had heard Shilla repeat too many times, a graceful frown stealing her face. Something about the way Shilla said those words when referring to Lady Wickshire bothered her. She knew, only once had she ever heard a phrase feel like that. When? She could not remember.

“That look on your face says, you’re in a state. The maid that just left, is it she you put in the lady’s entourage?” A deep voice echoed its question, waking the headmistress from her trance. The man dressed in a sharp brown coat, strolled over and took a seat before her. The headmistress did not look up, as she knew who it was that spoke.

“The way that maid kept repeating the words, ‘my lady’ when referring to that girl, was unsettling.” the headmistress said.

“Lady Wickshire is after all, her lady.” the man answered.

“Yes. Forget it. It’s nothing but my mind making up trolls to unsettle me. What I want to know is how you knew that it was Lady Wickshire in question that I referred to.”

“She is your most recent acquisition thus, the client you promised me.” the man answered with a snort. The headmistress looked up for the first time since the man made himself known, into sharp blue eyes glazed with hints of impatience. She found the man in her presence terribly attractive yet too much below her to pursue, much more concoct thoughts of love. There was something about the way he paused his lips and rubbed his hairless chin; that stopped her heart.

“She just arrived and settled in. It would take time to deliver and you know that.” she said.

“That is only because you have schemes in your head towards the lady.”

“My, Wensworth, whatever do you mean?” she feigned ignorance.

“Anne, do you know why she is referred to as Lady Wickshire?” Wensworth asked, “Her family title was that of an Earldom till only few years ago; His Majesty gifts her father Lord Torgenn, the Wickshire fortress; a territory that is accompanied by a dukedom. Her father remains as to this day, Lord Torgenn; maintaining his position as an Earl while his daughter stands, the duchess of Wickshire.”

“She’s daddy’s little pet. Everyone with a brain is well aware of how dotting her father is on matters of her.” the headmistress snorted.

“No, Anne. As true as that may be, what you do not know is that there is a trend of some sort in the Wickshire dukedom that extends into the Torgenn earldom. As I hear, I believe the saying is; Lady Wickshire is the beginning and end. Her father maybe doting; but what about the higher social class? Sure, the women may not be informed, as not so much concerns or is allowed to concern them, but never will you find more secretive noble gents than when talk sways towards Lady Wickshire.” Wensworth said, getting up, “I have things to see to. You promised me an opening to have her as a client. Make it happen.” Wensworth buttoned his coat, then strolled out.

***

Lucy made her way to have dinner. She sat at the head of a table in a well furnished dining hall filled with ladies seated in groups, taking their light dinner. She sat in silence as Taylor rushed to get her meal arranged.

“Hello.” a small voice called for her attention. Lucy looked towards the voice. Her eyes settled on a natural redhead taking a seat beside her.

“I hope you don’t mind me sitting. I’m Methrede Tayllum or Lady Jeuteh if you please.” the redhead introduced herself. Behind her, two girls follows suit and took seats on the opposite side.

“I’m Lucy Sharterux, Lady Wickshire.” Lucy answered.

“Wickshire; as in Lucy Wickshire? I’ve heard of you!” Methrede exclaimed in a voice not short of a whisper, yet very much heard.

“What have you heard?” Lucy asked as Taylor and some maids arrived with their dishes.

“Nothing really, just whispers. Your name comes up a lot, but much more of recent.” Methrede said rapidly.

“I’m Christy Laz. My father, Lord J’hunten is also a household name.” the blonde girl said haughtily.

“I did not mean her father Christy, I meant her.” Methrede frowned.

“Whatever. She should at least know since she now has me as a friend.” Christy nodded as though what she spoke of was obvious knowledge.

“Friends? Why would I be friends with her? I know your father; Diamond mines, miles of land unused and wasted; Just needs the right hands.” the other girl with raven hair snorted.

“Shut it, Leah. How did you end up tying yourself to me? Of course she can’t be friends with you, she’s already friends with me and I don’t like you. As her best friend, it is only right that she cannot be friends with you.” Christy declared.

“I hear you come from a long linage of blondes. Is that why your hair is white?” Methrede asked Lucy, her eyes swimming in curiosity.

“You are too presumptuous, Christy.” Leah said to Christy as her face distorted in a frown.

“Save your tears of apology, Mclears. You forget, you are not even nobility. Your father is just a tad too ambitious.” Christy declared.

“Have you heard of the luncheon coming soon? I hear some lords will be in attendance.” Leah turned to Methrede who looked deep in thought, and ignored Christy's taunt.

“Only you would care. But I guess it matters as your family needs you to lead them to nobility through means of marriage.” Christy said in a haha manner. Leah rose abruptly with her face red and fist clenched, then stormed off with her maid in tow.

“Does that mean that if two blondes marry, their child will have your hair or if the blonde blood in the family is long enough, one day their child will have your hair?” Methrede asked Lucy, oblivious of the fight on the table. Lucy smiled at her question as she had never had such an amusing dinner.