Monday, December 23, 2024

The Viscount of La Soutain (10)

 10

Samh 9.11.1342 07:00

 

Abaledina sat in her private den, daydreaming about Viscount Elwynalam. Her com-tab lay in her lap. Its screen displayed an empty message to Eriath.

First, she had been stricken by Viscount Elwynalam’s regal carriage and poise in contrast to her uncle’s and aunt’s hunched, grasping postures. His shoulder-length wavy brown hair and soft blue eyes radiated kindness. His short-trimmed beard accented his angular jawline. His nose was strong and straight. That he had tried to include her in the conversation her cousin had wanted to monopolize did not help her wayward thoughts.

She could not blame her cousin, but she was not one to fight over a man. She also felt any chance she might have had with Viscount Elwynalam was lost when Jeanilotta mentioned her betrothed. She knew she must first speak with Eriath and dissolve the betrothal before finding her true love—if such a match for her existed. It was just particularly challenging to control her breathing when a man like Viscount Elwynalam walked unexpectedly into the room. Her mind briefly flicked to Eriath, and she guiltily glanced down at the uncomposed message to him. He was handsome enough, but Viscount Elwynalam made her heart beat faster.

The first rays of the approaching day faintly struggled through the curtains before Abaledina completed her weary task. She had spent much of the night thinking about the wrong man. At length, however, she had finished. She scrolled through it, checked to ensure she had entered Eriath’s direction correctly, and hit send, entrusting it to the ether. Then, she threw herself upon her silken bed and hoped no one would disturb her for at least five hours.

Beritha was startled from her light slumber by the bing of a received message at an unusually early hour. When fully dressed with her usual carefulness, she seemed to be less than thirty years old. In the grey morning light, adorned in her coarse state of undress, she looked her age of forty-five. She was tall and possessed that kind of second-rate civility that arises from seeing but not mingling with genteel society. It was an artificial refinement that cloaked the vulgarity of her mind.

Her sharp features were not unpleasant. Her eyes displayed a thorough knowledge of the world’s wickedness. They were gray, restless, and piercing but could sometimes appear to take on a soft, flirtatious laziness. However, there existed a deep-rooted, cunning and selfishness beneath their faked cloak of frankness and simplicity.

With a smile of triumph, she quickly turned on her com-tab and began patiently to peruse its message. Mrs. Gillfillian had hired her as her personal assistant, but she was primarily hired for her unique talents. She was delighted that the young adults hadn’t yet detected her abilities but wondered why they never realized the filtering system installed by the Gillfillians was not one run by AI but one that sent all their emails to her instead of the intended recipient. She attributed it to her excellent writing skills.

However, after six years of deleting messages and sending different ones to keep Miss Abaledina and Master Eriath together was wearing on her. She noted the rewards for her interventions were becoming fewer and fewer. The rewards were also pushed forward to the marriage day when she was to receive a hundred-thousand-note of the heiress’ money for herself.

These self-important Gillfillians who employed her made her do all the work while they received all the gain. That irritated her. She had worked hard over the years to make this match occur, but she began to wonder if she would earn more money by revealing the plot to Abaledina instead of working secretly against her.

It did not take her long to see this message was like all the recent ones between the betrothed couple—professing the deepest of brotherly or sisterly affection, stating no feeling of true love existed, and requesting to be released from the obligation of marrying.

Initially, she joined this plot not only for the money but also because she judged it was right. She could not believe children these days thought they knew what marriage and love were about—so much so that they would spurn their parents’ choices. When she first heard of this match, she recognized how well it would improve the children’s positions. Adding Abaledina’s wealth to the business acumen of Eriath’s father would have created an empire.

Beritha was not a deaf or dumb servant, though. For the last four years, she had heard that Lieutenant Gillfillian’s luck had run out, and he was on the brink of financial ruin. Instead of making wise financial decisions as he once had done, he began gambling on risky ones. She could see the writing on the wall of a gambling addict. He just needed one more investment—the next one would be the one to gain it all back. He needed Abaledina’s fortune to fund the big one. Then, his riches would last—he believed. Beritha knew they would only last until he could run through the young orphan’s inheritance as well. She might not understand the ideals of love, but she did understand the ideals of money. She had begun to worry that once the marriage occurred, he would shortchange her to fund his compulsion. Although she still did not mind handing Abaledina’s fortune over to Mr. Gillfillian, she did mind handing hers over to him.

After reading the early morning message from Abaledina, she sat in thought until Mrs. Gillfillian’s notification summoned her. With the young ward’s message to Eriath open on her com-tab, she went to the luxurious dressing room to meet her mistress.

In Beritha’s opinion, Mrs. Gillfillian was lazy, extravagant, and ambitious. The first and the last of these were in a constant state of battle. To gratify the middle one, she descended to every malicious trickery that she thought she could perform without being caught. Her niece’s immense inheritance came from her mother, who had been Swienzean nobility. While Abledina’s father improved the inheritance by doing mercantile speculations with his brother, Mrs. Gillfillian burned through the Lieutenant’s share of the business—which she saw as her rightful money. Beritha had been with her long enough to know the inner workings of her employer’s mind. The lack of capital pushed her husband to pursue risky investments.

Accomplishing the union between her son and niece to offset her overspending was her prized scheme. Messages on both sides were intercepted, were read, and more affectionate ones were substituted. The purported sender repeatedly declared his or her all-engrossing passion. The sacredness of the pledge they made as mere children under exceptionally trying circumstances was constantly repeated to them.

By sending Eriath away to school, the Gillfillians had separated them for years. Without any way of having free, innocent conversations, Beritha’s messages mutually deceived them. Currently, each feared that withdrawing from the agreement would fatally wound the heart of the other. When they had a few moments alone together, guilt made them too slow to explain their real feelings, and Mrs. Gillfillian made sure they never had much time alone.

Beritha showed the message to Mrs. Gillfillian when she entered her dressing room.

“This must never go! It would ruin all our plans,” Mrs. Gillfillian declared after reading the message. “Thank you for intercepting it. You can have this bracelet for your service, but I’ll continue holding it temporarily. My daughter has one like it, and she might disapprove if she matched a servant.”

Beritha realized immediately this was yet another false gift. The heat of anger showed on her cheek, forcing her to turn from her employer to hide it. Her mistress continued looking at the message and saw nothing of her ire.

“Now that is settled, there are a thousand preparations to complete for our ball, which I can trust to no one but you.” Her mistress gave directions with the ease and nobility of one accustomed to being obeyed. Beritha remained sullen. She had not been well paid for her work—again. 

The full ebook is available HERE or check back tomorrow for the next chapter.

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