Chapter 67 The Test Legacy
With a sigh of hope, Annabel grabbed the doorknob.
Her thoughts had been filled with the image of Carson possibly home early, his smile a warm counterbalance to the chill of the day because the knock had been so subtle and purposeful.
A glimmer of happiness ignited in her chest as her fingers encircled the chilly brass. With a gentle click that reverberated throughout the quiet hallway she yanked the heavy door open.
Her heart sank. It wasn't Carson.
Standing in the doorway was a woman whose presence was as stiff and uncompromising as the tall oak trees that bordered the drive.
Her uniform, a plain black dress with a white apron tied at the waist exuded authority and a lack of individuality. Her eyes were a cool steady gray that was neither warm nor welcoming and her face was a mask of courteous indifference.
She wasn't smiling . She was not required to. Her chin level and shoulders back stance spoke for her.
She had a silver tray in her hands and one folded napkin on it. The commonplace item seemed out of place and like an odd interruption to the high-stakes drama of the day.
The woman's apron was as formal and stiff as her voice.
“Madam Annabel.”She said in a formal tone that left no opportunity for inquiry. “My name is Margery.I have been told to start your training right away by Madam Victoria.She made it very clear that you shouldn't sit around doing nothing. We still have a lot to learn and accomplish.”
Annabel's knuckles whitened as her fingers grew tighter on the doorknob.
A tight hard bud of frustration replaced the hope that had just been blooming. She glanced over the maid observing the piercing critical eyes, the well-groomed hair and the absence of any real emotion.
There was no request made. It was an order given without fanfare or regret. A cold hard slap to the face was the first real taste of her new reality.
“Training?” Annabel managed to saybut the word felt strange.
It was a term used for apprentices and soldiers rather than for visitors or new family members.
The maid's eyes squinted a slight change that was more scathing than a glare.
“Yes, training.” Margery reiterated her voice trailing off to a low purr of authority that reverberated through the silent corridor.
“Madam Victoria was extremely detailed. A Lancaster home’s operations are ongoing. There are other legacies to preserve besides the company. You will start working right away. Once I've shown you your responsibilities, you will report to the kitchens.The chef has strict standards for timeliness.”
The maid moved her weight and the only sound was the gentle rustle of her uniform.
“You will begin with easy household tasks. Dusting the lower halls, helping with meal preparation and polishing the silverware. The task is not hard but it needs to be completed precisely. You will meet the houses standards. There are no exceptions.”
With a tiny gleaming circle of silver in her hands, she extended the silver tray slightly seemingly to highlight its significance.
Annabel felt her stomach turn. A hot sharp feeling of indignation rose in her throat.
She had given up her life of manual labor and domestic chores?
Though she had envisioned a different kind of life—one of peaceful companionship with Carson rather than domestic servitude.
The Irony left her with a sour taste in her mouth. She felt the need to speak up to resist asserting herself.
She wanted to let this woman know that she was a member of the family and a visitor to this home not a maid.
She wanted to yell that she didn't want to be a part of this world and that she wasn't one yet. But there was no empathy in the maid's eyes—only a detached businesslike judgment.
With a series of well-placed blows, Margery went on.“Madam Victoria said to inform you that a legacy is earned not simply given. You'll merit your spot here. Your presence here is more than just a show. Your goal is to join the family which calls for your participation. Others have had to demonstrate their abilities. For you it is the same.”
Her words, a silent accusation lingered in the air.
Annabel clenched her jaw. With her eyes fixed on the maid she searched for any sign of tenderness or a break in her flawless poise.
She could not easily remove the heavy cloak that was placed over her shoulders by her decision. This was something she had walked into. This is the life she had chosen.
Was this the cost? Was this the test Victoria had been so eager to conduct?
She thought about Carson, his mute protests and his pale face in the car. The memory of her modest apartment and its rowdy neighbors seemed like a faraway dream as she reflected on her straightforward honest life which was now miles away.
She curled her fists at her sides. She couldn't resist. No not yet. No not in this way.
She refused to give Victoria or this woman the joy of witnessing her break. A silent fire of defiance was starting to burn in her chest as she made the decision to accept the challenge.
Even though she would learn the rules and complete the chores she would still do things her way. They would never break her.
Margery appeared to notice Annabel's shift in attitude. She made one quick sharp motion, a curt nod.
“Beyond the spacious dining hall in the west wing is the kitchen. Gloves and your apron are on the counter. Don't be late.”
After saying that she turned on her heel and moved silently down the corridor her footsteps mingled with the sweeping quiet of the opulent foyer. She kept her eyes forward.
Annabel was abandoned, a lone person in a vast room. The atmosphere felt more void and colder now. With the marble floor extending out in front of her like a desert and the high ceilings reaching up to a silent sky the grand foyer appeared to expand.
A grandfather clock ticking softly and rhythmically in the distance was the only sound to break the deafening silence.
She felt a heavy burden of duty expectations and silent humiliation as a result of her new reality. After giving the door and the escape it symbolized one final glance she carefully and slowly closed it behind her.
There was a final gentle click. It was like a cage closing.