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Samh 9.15.1342 3:00
Beritha was with her mistress at three in the morning still listening to the tirades of a night gone horribly wrong when, late, or rather early—as it was, Jeanilotta begged admission to her mother's dressing room. Mrs. Gillfillian went from horribly upset to consoling.
“Is it to be endured?" Jeanilotta demanded impatiently, her eyes flashing a fire not normally seen there. “Is it to be endured?" she repeated, petulantly.
“Tush! my love—he is a viscount. Men like him will do what they please in spite of us. But listen—it is useless to be angry, we must transact our affairs deeper. I know that Abaledina will refuse your brother. I presume her antics tonight were performed because she intends to captivate this same gentleman. Can we allow this to happen?
“No!” Jeanilotta answered vehemently.
“No, indeed. Your brother will be ruined if she marries another because we cannot survive without her money. If Viscount Elwynalam stands in the way of our success, our entire faith must be on you. You are the only one with the power to remove that obstacle."
“Me!" exclaimed the passionate girl. "How? He barely gave me a glance this evening!”
For a moment, the intriguing mother scanned her daughter's face then with a voice and manner which plainly showed that the deep waters of affection had never rippled over her heart, said, "Can you renounce your love of Theodomani?"
"He loves me, and he’s rich! Viscount Elwynalam paid me no mind this evening. You ask me to give up what is certain for what may not be attainable. Never—never!"
"But the circumstances, my child—consider them well,” she allowed her voice to drop for a calculated minute. “Of course, you are free to choose."
"Mother! mother! How could I do this?" Beritha watched as the young woman pressed her small hands to her head as if to repress its wild, unnatural thoughts.
“Think calmly, my love. Have you no ambition for a title—no desire for the boundless wealth he is said to possess? In short, Jeanilotta, could you not forget Theodomani Montrevor, the plain entertainer’s son, if you were the bride of Viscount Elwynalam, the nobleman doctor?”
“And what of Theodomani?” gulped the girl.
“Do you fancy that because Theodomani declares that he could not live without you, that he is in earnest?" her mother asked with a chuckle and a slight sneer which at once defeated her object because nothing aroused Jeanilotta like contempt or opposition.
“He has been true and faithful to me. He is not the risk that it would be if I tried for the Viscount. No—I cannot—I will not give him up."
"Well then—the effect of all this romancing is upon your own head. Just do not come crying to me when Abaledina's fortune is united to Viscount Elwynalam's, and she the viscountess of his splendid mansion. Know that you now have been given that choice, but you refuse—so good night—I wish you joy of your decision." And with that, Beritha followed the matron to her sleeping apartment.
As soon as the panel was shut with the daughter on the other side, her mistress predictably began her plotting.
“You know what you must do. As soon as she is asleep, read the diary and let me know how things lay.”
“Aye, madam.”
It had been a sultry autumnal day, and the air of the house was heavy with the perfume of an immense quantity of flowers scattered in every direction for the ball. To Beritha, it was oppressive. She threw open a window in her room and stepped out onto the balcony with her com-tab to cool down in the night breeze before hacking her way into Jeanilotta’s diary.
Once she had finished her task, she was relieved to see her mistress would be pleased:
9.16.1342
Dearest,
It is all true. I, who have been idolized for years, could not suffer to see her take precedence. I have loved her it is true. When her gentle eyes are upon me, and I feel how pure her spirit is, there is a momentary wish to be like her—but no! Impossible! This night has called forth my evil nature. Henceforth, though I must speak only sweet words so none suspect the revenge and hatred in my heart. To-night he chose to linger at her side. It shall not again be like this. But Theodomani—ah, well, let the future decide. Perhaps my rejection of you will not have you stray too far. If things with the viscount do not work out in my favor, I can retrieve you. As for me, I will mold this future somewhat to my will. But Abaledina—Abaledina—beware how you cross my path!"
Beritha leaned back into her chair and considered her own path. She had initially judged correctly: Abaledina had caught the viscount’s eye. If Abaledina never married Eriath, her work would be unpaid. Jeanilotta was willing to risk her happiness that she could catch the viscount’s eye, but Beritha knew men like him. They might amuse themselves with someone as low-class as Jeanilotta, but they could smell money and high-class from a mile away. Men like the viscount did not marry beneath their station. She snorted. If she had the choice between the two girls, she most definitely would choose Abaledina.
With her mind made up on the path she would take, all she had to do now was figure out how to get off of the side of her mistress and onto Abaledina’s side. It was late. She would think about it on the morrow.
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