Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  William just stared. Her eyes were like saucers, and her mouth wide as a plate. Her face seemed to scream, "What on earth are you doing?!"

  "Walter said you aren't feeling very well," he said, and shifted a fork closer to her. So I thought I'd bring breakfast in bed for the sick little chickie."

  William was still completely amazed. Walter brought her food all the time, so what was this all about?

  "Looks like you have everything here," he said, still cheerfully, "So eat up and recover your strength, so we can explore London together."

  He then got up and took his leave. "I'm sure you know that if you need anything, you need only ring that little bell by your bed. In the mean time," he gave a deep bow from the waist at the doorway, "At your service!" and he left.

  William could only stare in complete shock and silence for a long time. What? What?! What was that about?!

  Regardless, his antics worked. His cheerful disposition helped ease her sorrow, even if she was unaware of it, and she ate a little more of her food than she normally would.

  She still only ate a few bites of everything on her plate, but it was still more than she had consumed all week.

  "Very good, sir," Walter said outside her door, as the maid took her food away. "I should have you bring her every meal."

  "Nah, if you do it too much, she'll get used to it," Pip grinned as he lit a cigarette. "Once she gets used to it, she'll start to lose her hunger again. Best do it sparingly."

  "And yet, she's barely eating anything without intervention," Walter said.

  "She's just feeling a little low," Pip dismissed. "When she starts to feel better, she'll eat again."

  "You don't understand, sir," Walter said. "She hardly touches her desset plate anymore."

  That took Pip aback.

  "Not even sweets?"

  "Not even sweets."

  "Merde!" Pip exclaimed, for the first time understanding how serious her situation was.

  "We could wait until her leg recovers for her to feel better," Walter continued, "Yet, I'm afraid she might waste away in that time."

  "So what you want me to to do about it?"

  "Just go in every once in a while. Sit with her, talk to her, lift her spirits."

  "Can't the maids to do it?" Pip asked.

  He felt like he was the wrong person for the job, since William constantly glared and turned her head away from him.

  "They've tried," Walter said, "But with little success. They say she just stares longingly out the window."

  "Must be tough, having a broken leg," Pip said.

  "Indeed, sir, which is something I think you understand better than anyone here, and which I think she will understand as well."

  Pip hesitated. "Do you think it will work?"

  "It's better than nothing, sir," Walter smiled. "Just go in an talk to her every once in a while. I think she misses the company," Walter added. "What with his Lordship being preoccupied with Lady Richard..."

  Captain Pip Bernadotte didn't need to hear anymore.

  So, on the few occasions he was not accompanying the boss into town, or taking care of business his boss couldn't be bothered to do, he found time to bring William her meal with a lot of pomp and circumstance.

  He acted just as ridiculously cheerful as the first time, which made William stare in confusion and alarm, and talk to her cheerfully about various things. He also teased her, which he couldn't help, and which just made her frown and huff so cutely.

  William, for her part, was confused as to what he was doing. She barely saw her master anymore, never got to see other people outside the town house, and the servants were always too busy talking to have anything to say to her (even as they cleaned her room, her sheets, or even her), so she had long felt alone and forsaken. She knew of few people besides her master who enjoyed spending time with her, and assumed everyone who didn't come to the town house had quite forgotten her.

  Walter was always kind, which she was grateful for, but now in her depressed state she felt it was just his job to be nice to her. Even when her master or some guests downstairs were rude to him, he was unwaveringly polite to them, so perhaps his kindness to her was mere politeness also.

  The servants were rather kind, but the kindest had been Carlotta, and William did not see her around at all. She wished she did. She missed her. Yet, she thought of Walter's fake politeness, and wondered if Carlotta had only been nice out of professional courtesy.

  So, here was Captain Bernadotte, whom she thought she'd never see again except to do her master's bidding, who came into her room to bring her meals and talk to her so cheerfully. (With maids nearby as chaperones, of course.)

  In some ways, she felt like he and his men existed only in her memories of the castle stables and gardens, where she used to see them work, or walk by to

  "The Count says as soon as you get better, he wants to buy you another horse," Pip said at one point.

  William face dropped, and she looked sadly down.

  "You still miss that Old Grey, don't you?"

  She nodded.

  "'Ey," he said, and gave her shoulder a playful nudge. "Don't feel bad. He's moved onto a better place, where there's more tender fields of grass and hay than he can ever eat. And carrots too. Don't forget carrots."

  Humans often talked of Heaven, the place all good people went when they died. The specifics made her doubt such a place existed, like how only humans who believed in a certain criteria about the world went there, while everyone else automatically went to eternal punishment just because they did one wrong thing, failed to take a special bath as babies before dying, or didn't believe in certain things about the Holy Father (whoever that was) or the sun.

  She knew he meant well though, so she tried to smile.

  Captain Bernadotte's visits were always pleasant. He was so kind and good-natured about everything. The way he smiled and leaned back seemed to come to him so naturally. He was always brimming with energy, yet there was a quiet, almost careless confidence about him that always made him seem so pleasant, so relaxing to spend time with. For William, who was quite anxious and depressed, this was just what the doctor ordered.

  One day, Captain Bernadotte came into her room carrying a little brightly colored bag.

  "A chocolate shop just opened across the street," he said, "So I thought you might like some."

  It was the thought more than the gift that touched William so deeply. She wasn't hungry much anymore, but seeing such a beautiful, shimmering bag tied with a fluffy little ribbon made her feel so special, she clutched it close to her heart.

  "Don't you want to open it?" he asked.

  She held it more protectively to her chest, as though to say, "No, it's mine!"

  He laughed. "All right, whenever you're ready!"

  She grinned and looked at it happily.

  She kept it close by her side for a long time yet, but never opened it because something inside her felt it should be saved for a special occasion. In the middle of the night, when she lay in bed alone, staring at the dark walls, with nothing but the sickly orange light of the street lamps outside her window, she would take out her brightly colored bag of chocolates (which she kept under her pillows the same way she used to hide sweets from the chicken) and look at the light reflected off its beautiful shimmering wrapping paper, and feel much happier.

  Sometimes she thought of opening it and eating it, but she felt it would ruin the magic seal, and there was really no need because just admiring how beautiful it was, knowing what wonderful treats were waiting for her in the future, and running her fingers over the edges were enough for her.

  That it was a gift from someone who didn't have to get her anything made it so much better.

  She grew to really look forward to Captain Bernadotte's visits. Not as much as the visits from her master, of course, as she spent all day sitting up to be prepared for when he walked in for the evening, but she looked forward to them none-the-less.

  Captain Bernadotte w
as never around very long, but he was always so cheerful yet casual, talked to her about random things, and always just seemed to enjoy her company. He wasn't put off by the fact that she couldn't talk (as most of the servants were), didn't talk down to her like the nobles, and... well... didn't talk about a girl he loved more than her as her master did.

  "The ginger filly's doing well, by the by," he said, "She's finally been broken, and is now a mare. She rides like a dream, and jumps even higher."

  William smiled.

  "I don't even have to urge her toward it, she goes right for the jump, every time. She could probably set a record if she and an owner put their mind to it. Sometimes her excitement gets the better of her, and she heads right toward it without my urging. Apart from that, and the occasional moodiness when she's in heat, I can't find any fault with her."

  William grinned. She liked hearing good news about the ginger filly.

  She also remembered a time when she wasn't treated well though, and so wrote, "Is she treated well?"

  "Oui, she's taken care of," Pip said. "She still gets rather spirited, and stomps her feet, pins her ears, and tries to snap when she thinks someone is not taking care of her right proper. But as long as you show you mean well, pet her and talk to her in a soothing voice, she calms down." He added, "I gave specific instructions before I left for London."

  William' face fell. "Did none of them come to London?"

  "Nah, not enough room," he said. "The boss is thinking about renting a small mansion on the outskirts of London, so he'll have all the perks of a large country home - gardens, stables, wide open space - near London, so everything of value doesn't have to be left behind for the entire Season."

  William widened her eyes, then smiled. That was the best news she'd heard in... well, before London!

  He smiled incredulously. "What, you mean you didn't know?"

  She shook her head.

  "Well, now you do."

  William threw up her hands and made a big grin as though to scream, "Yay!"

  He laughed.

  William liked talking to him about horses, riding, the country, and so on. It reminded her of good times, the way things used to be, and how she hoped they would soon be again. When he talked of the future, about riding and the filly and future, he made it sound like these good times she felt were lost would occur again soon.

  If only her mast left the same impression after his visits.

  Her master often came in and talked about how much of a bore this, that, or the other was at this, that, or the other party, how tedious it was dealing with people without her there, how much he still longed to bring her to such odious functions in the future, so as to make the season worth enduring. Of course, this was usually followed by bragging about the amazing qualities of Lady King.

  William always felt like her stomach was stabbed by cold iron when he talked about her, but he never seemed to notice, and prattled on and on. That he didn't notice that talking about Lady Richard every chance he got when he came to see William (even though they never spent more than fifteen minutes together in the entire day) upset her, hurt all the more.

  In truth, Captain Bernadotte's visits only did so much to lift her spirits. Even though she came to look forward to them; felt her heart skip a beat every time he walked in from the door, felt herself smile and nod along as he talked about enjoyable subjects, and so on... it all seemed to come undone when her master came to see her every evening, just to talk of negative things and the woman he loved more than her.

  What's more, Captain Bernadotte had to actually work for a living, so he could only come in to see her every so often. When he could he came in once a day, though occasionally he had to skip one, while the Count came in every evening.

  William wondered what kind of a world she lived in that seeing Pip always left her feeling more happy afterwards than seeing her beloved.

  One day the doctor was called back to examine William, to see how she was recovering. He eventually surmised that her leg had recovered enough that she could sit up and even leave her room if there was someone to carry her.

  This was happy news for everyone, but especially William. Finally, she could sit up, move around, visit different rooms, and so on.

  She thought this not the least because she could see the lights and hear the laughter downstairs when her master had dinner guests over, but she could never be part of the interaction.

  Of course, because Walter was the cautious type, William moved up and about much more slowly than if she had had her way. It was just as well, because she had lost most of her walking muscles from laying in bed for so long (to say nothing of her lack of appetite and sleep, and general apathy, lethargy, and misery), and she fell outright after she tried to stand too suddenly.

  "Captain Bernadotte, would you please lend us your assistence?"

  "At your service, gov'ner!" he teased.

  "... And please don't speak like that."

  Captain Bernadotte laughed. "Right-o, chap!"

  Walter sighed.

  Pip lifted William as easily as though she were a pillow filled with down feathers, then winked at her. William felt the familiar blush and quicken of pulse and breath as she settled securely in his arms. As she felt the familiar muscles beyond the fabric, the heat of his body, the smell of musk and tobacco...

  She met his eye, and saw how good-naturedly he smiled. She smiled weakly back.

  Walter coughed awkwardly. "Perhaps we had best set her down in the drawing room. A little change of scenery might do her some good."

  "Have her change rooms?" Pip said, "Are you sure that's safe, Mr. Dornez? What if such a simple transition from one room to the next might overexert the little lady?"

  "Very funny, now would you please help with this?" Walter frowned.

  He shrugged - an awkward action for William since she was still in his arms. "You are the butler," he said, and carried William easily to the next room.

  She prefered not to make eye contact.

  William had to admit that after being stuck in only one room for several weeks, it was both thrilling and terrifying to be in another. She'd seen the inside of the washroom and outside the window, and had a few "walkarounds" though the hallway, but not like this.

  The drawing room was rather pretty too, though nothing like she was used to so far. It was decorated with white lacey table clothes over the, pink cushions and green leavy wallpaper. It looked as fresh and lovely as spring.

  Now William understood why Walter wanted to bring her here. She felt refreshed already.

  "Would you like some tea, Miss Hanna?" he asked with a slight bow.

  She nodded, and he went and got it.

  She relaxed and leaned back in the cushions. This was so much nicer than sleeping in that dark, drab, moth-bitten little room she once had to lay in, day in and day out.

  Her master was thrilled to see her recovering too, which William was slightly surprised over. After how adamantly he had pursued Lady Richard, how he had taken William' own attention of him for granted, and had easily given up on her when William showed she did not wish to engage, she had started to doubt he really missed her absense.

  "We shall have a big feast to celebrate your recovery!" he exclaimed as his hands cupped her shoulders.

  "Er, her continued recovery," Walter corrected.

  "Very well, order venison for dinner!"

  "Very good, sir!" Walter said with a deep bow.

  When they were sufficiently alone, sitting side-by-side on the green and pink sofa that reminded her of spring, the Count caressed her chin and whispered, "I am so pleased to have you back at my side, little foundling. It was just never the same without you."

  Her heart skipped a beat, but not as violently as it once did, which confused her.

  So William was back to officially drinking tea and sitting down to the occasional meal with her master. Part of her was extatic, another part felt like she should be more extatic than she was, and another part... well, fel
t like this was not as wonderful as she remembered.

  Once, just the opportunity to be in her master's presence was the most dazzling treat in the world. Just the privilege to sit so intimately with him at the tea table, and to sit at the dining table like one of his peers, had been the highest honor anyong could think to bestow on her.

  Now... something about these restored teas and meals were not as heavenly as she remembered. She could not understand why. She still loved her master, still loved being with him, still loved talking - well, being talked to - as he told her of various things...

  But somehow, her long absence from her master got her used to being away from him. Now that she was back, it just wasn't the highlight of her life that it had once been.

  The next few days were much better than the entire last several weeks combined. She felt happier and livelier, she ate more, she felt like she had a reason to wake in the morning and actually care about the passage of time.

  While William still spent most of her days in bed, she now got to occasionally sit up on new things, in new places.

  Of course, no one would let her move unless someone was around to carry her, and since she didn't want to be touched by anyone but her master or Captain Bernadotte, either of them needed to be around to carry her for the servants to even entertain the idea of letting her move. William then spent many a day in bed with her eyes narrowed, and her chin propped up on her hand.

  "Oh no, don't make that face, little lady!" one of the maids exclaimed. "Everything we do is to keep you safe and healthy, so you can just wait there will your master returns!"

  Then again, William had an independent streak no one could shame away, so when the maids weren't looking she hobbled around on one leg. She found that as long as she didn't put direct pressure on it or remain standing too long, she was just fine.

  It was quite often that the maids would go over to where she had been, expecting to find her there, only to see her over in the next room or down the hall.

  "Miss William Hanna!" they exclaimed (they only used her full name when she was in trouble), "How many times have we told you to wait for help getting around?"