Obedience
1094 Words
The front door opened, and in stumbled her Uncle Charles reeking of alcohol and stale cigar smoke. His coat was unbuttoned and his shirt was untucked. Amelia scooted out of his way. She was sure he could barely see in front of him. He bumped into the wall by the door and began laughing; he looked down and saw his niece on her hands and knees scrubbing. Amelia didn’t look up at him.
“Isn’t that a good position for you to be in, my lovely Amelia?” Charles laughed.
Amelia glanced up to see her uncle staring down the top of her dress. Surprising a shudder, Amelia managed a polite “Good morning Lord Winthrope.” She turned her attention back to the floor.
“Please, call me Charles.” He sneered. “Why don’t you come with me to my study and sit on my lap? Your aunt doesn’t have to know.”
Amelia felt the bile rise in the back of her throat. She covered her mouth with her damp hand. Glancing up at her uncle, she saw him grinning wickedly down at her while he rubbed a bulge in the front of his trousers. She swallowed hard before she answered him. “I believe that would be highly inappropriate, Lord Winthrope.” Amelia looked back down at the floor and continued to scrub the floor. He stood there watching her work. She dared not look away from her work.
“Just as well.” He groaned and took a deep breath. “Your aunt would be furious with me if I damaged your little prize.” He stood up as straight as he could and headed for the stairs. He paused as he climbed and turned to address Amelia again. “I have something you could do for me. And it wouldn’t require you to get off your knees.” He laughed at his joke. Amelia ignored him and scrubbed at the broken tiles even harder.
“Look at me.” He shouted at her. Amelia snapped her head in his direction. He smiled as he tried to unbutton the front of his pants.
“Good morning, Lord Winthrope, just getting home?” Mrs. Hunter was descending with a dark-haired maid with light blue eyes. Charles froze and tried to button his trousers.
“Good morning. Is my wife up?”
“No, my lord. The lady is still asleep,” She replied.
“Good. I’ll be in my chamber.” He looked over at Amelia. “Our little secret, Amelia.” He put his fingers to his lips. He looked at the other maid, following Mrs. Hunter. “Come clean my chamber today. It needs your special attention.” He smiled as he swatted the girl’s behind. She giggled and continued down the steps.
Mrs. Hunter pointed to Lord Winthrope’s study and the girl went in to begin cleaning. Amelia looked at the housekeeper.
“I thought he was home already,” Amelia said, rocking back on her heels. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. And the only other thing Amelia could think to say was “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for, child?” The housekeeper asked. “I should be sorry for not coming downstairs sooner.” The old woman wheezed and began to cough. Amelia patiently waited for Mrs. Hunter to regain her breath.
“I’m sorry I’m not fast. I’m sorry I’m not invisible. I’m sorry I can’t do a hundred things at once. And I’m sorry I ever set foot in this damn house.” She smiled at Mrs. Hunter. “I am not sorry that you, Nancy, and Andrew have been put in my path, though. That is the one good thing that has come out of all this.”
“AMELIA.” The shrill voice of Lady Beatrice echoed down the stairs.
“Her majesty has awoken.” Mrs. Hunter huffed.
“I had best not keep the beasty waiting,” Amelia grunted as she stood. She bent over to rub her knees which had gone numb while she scrubbed the floor.
“When you are done, go and help Nancy in the kitchen.” Amelia tried to protest. She had not finished with the floors. “Don’t worry, I’ll have the tart finish scrubbing when she’s done pleasuring his lordship.” Mrs. Hunter nodded her head in the direction of the maid cleaning Lord Winthrope’s office.
Amelia snickered as she headed to her aunt’s chamber carrying a damp rag with her. Lady Beatrice, now with greying hair and sagging skin, was standing in front of her door with her arms folded across her chest and a scowl on her face, the skin around her eyes puffy. She was several inches taller than Amelia and towered over the girl. She wore a tattered golden silk dressing gown. Beatrice slapped Amelia across the face.
“You took too long.” She hissed through clenched teeth.
Amelia rubbed her cheek where her aunt had slapped her. Amelia could have flown up the steps and still Beatrice would have found a reason to slap her. She was sure that there was a permanent bruise in the shape of her aunt’s hand on her face.
“Sorry Lady Winthrope, I was scrubbing the floors.” Amelia looked her aunt in the eye. Beatrice backhanded the girl, causing Amelia to stumble back.
“I do not care what your excuse is for being a fat, lazy girl. You were told to never keep me waiting or look me in the eye.” She grabbed Amelia by the arm and pushed her into the chamber. “My bed will not make itself.” She shouted as she shoved Amelia toward the bed. Amelia straightened the threadbare sheets, fluffed the old pillows, and covered the bed with a dark blue duvet with large moth holes in it. Lady Winthrope stood to the side with her arms folded across her chest. She tapped her foot impatiently. “Clean it.” Her aunt said, pointing to the freshly used chamber pot on the floor.
Dutifully, Amelia stooped to pick up the pot from the floor. She dumped the contents out the window and scrubbed it with the rag she brought with her. Amelia placed the pot back by the bed, she curtsied to her aunt and waited for her next task while she stared at the floor. Beatrice was rummaging through her closet. She pulled a gown out and tossed it onto her bed.
- Writer
