"I'm sorry, Madame. There have been no calls tonight." Winston said to the retreating back of his pacing mistress.
When she turned to face him at the edge of the study's grand Persian rug, her needle-point stilettos nearly swiveled the entire length of fabric around. "Well! I guess there's no harm in that. No harm at all."
Winston discreetly closed the door connecting the study to the library to allow his master's second--and, as the rumor goes, soon to be divorced--wife some sense of privacy. "May I bring anything to you, Madame?"
"What? Oh, no. No, thank you, Winston. I am quite all right."
He might have believed her if she weren't still pacing and ringing her finely manicured hands through her very long--very real--pearl necklace. "Madame, if I may--"
"Oh! Where is he?" Mrs. Donnelly fretted to no one.
Clearing his throat, Winston moved closer to the distressed lady so that she may better hear him, "Madame--"
"Winston! What are you still doing here?"
"I--I beg your pardon, Madame?" he stammered, taken aback by a very different creature than he has catered to these past two years.
"Check again! There must be a message from Thomas. He has never missed dinner without at least leaving a message."
Master Donnelly had in fact left a message, but it was not one that Winston wished to repeat. "Yes, Madame--I will check again." Having traveled a similar path with his master and the first Mrs. Donnelly, Winston pitied the young woman's anxiety, believing that she is justified in her concern over her husband's unknown whereabouts. After all, she keeps a copy of his daily itinerary on her person at all times--a secret which she kept from her husband for the greater part of a year.
But now that Master Donnelly knows just how much his wife distrusts him, he will get a great deal of enjoyment out of distressing her for however long he wishes before untying the knot.
"Madame wishes to know if there are any messages for her."
Jenny the housekeeper tightened her lips into a grim line and repeated, "None for her ears."
Winston knew--as he did the first time he was sent to find word from his master--that the mistress of the house would soon be unhappy and leaving, either of her own will or against it. Master Donnelly is not one to be dissuaded. Winston also knew that it is his duty to keep Mrs. Donnelly calm and to comfort her, as she is still his master's wife.
Walking back to the study with a tea cart and maid in tow, Winston offered a small smile, "I'm sorry, Madame. But there are no messages. I took the liberty of bringing some tea--"
"Winston?"
"Yes, Madame?" he answered before dismissing the maid.
"Is--Will--" she looked about, casting her eyes to the portraits of dead strangers around her. Arriving at last on Winston, her eyes faded in brilliance and her tensed shoulders dropped an inch, "Yes, thank you."
"My pleasure, madame. I will leave you now."
Before Winston could close the door, Mrs. Donnelly asked, "Will you tell me at once when there is word from Thomas?"
"Of course, Madame," he said knowing that it was a lie.
"Thank you, Winston. You are very kind."
"I do try, Madame," he said believing that it was the truth.
They parted silently.
When the latch settled, it almost sounded like a lady's sob.
No comments:
Post a Comment