The White Mask & The Red Rose

by P Rose Weaver

  That brought a laugh from Isabelle who opened the back door, in search of their family dog. Rosabelle then turned her attention to the vegetables, washing and draining them for supper.

  The weekend came fast and still no sign of Papa. Rosabelle was a little worried but not overly much because their father was usually delayed when a storm hit one of the other provinces. Papa always managed to come home, no matter what.

  Gaston came for that visit at the end of the week as promised. She swallowed the bile that rose up her throat when she heard him compliment Isabelle's beauty. It was like sweet vinegar on an open wound. Isabelle accepted his flirtation with good sport. They sat near the fireplace and Rosabelle was sitting in another corner, stitching a hole in one of Papa's shirts. She was acting as chaperone. Isabelle had been forewarned about the visit but she still looked flustered when Gaston appeared through the doorway, flowers in hand. Isabelle did not like Gaston at all and acted as civil as she could be, for the sake of their Papa.

  Gaston did most of the talking and it was mostly about his accolades in the recent town games they held to commemorate the king's birthday. Then he started to sing a ballad he heard over there. Rosabelle rolled her eyes. Gaston might be the prime specimen of manhood but he could not carry a tune. She breathed a sigh of relief when the song was over and glanced at her sister.

  Rosabelle smiled from afar as she saw Isabelle trying to stifle a yawn. She looked at the horizon and saw the sun was almost setting.

  Gaston, sensing he was overstaying his welcome, excused himself and bid the two sisters goodbye but not before giving a slow sweet kiss on Isabelle's hand.

  When Gaston finally left, Isabelle groaned, "When will that man leave me alone? He is like a mud stain that cannot come off with frequent washing."

  Rosabelle gave her a sympathetic look, "Well, as long as you're unmarried and staying here, you will have to suffer a little longer. Come, let's prepare for dinner and forget about your suitor. Best not to upset our belly."

  Later that evening after supper when all the dishes were washed and cleared away, the sisters took to their nightly ritual. Isabelle with her books and Rosabelle with her stitching. She was trying to make a rose for her embroidery so she can turn it into a pillowcase. She was eyeing her progress so far when she noticed Bruno perked his ears up as if he heard something in the still of the night. The dog remained on the floor, too lazy to move after a heavy dinner.

  Rosabelle stood up and made her way to the window, peering out into the darkness. She could not see anything just yet. A few seconds passed and she then saw a flicker of light as it rounded the corner. There was no mistaking the merchant’s wagon. She opened the window and gave a wave, not sure if her father could see her.

  Isabelle had noticed her sister opening the window and stood up beside her,”Is it Papa?” She peered at the same window Rosabelle was looking at. “It is Papa!”

  Isabelle rushed towards the door and opened it, running outside to meet their father. Bruno followed behind slowly, his tail wagging. Rosabelle frowned. Bruno usually was bouncing with joy whenever their father arrived from a long trip. Their father never failed to bring back a good dog biscuit for him. But tonight, Bruno was a lazy old dog as he watched from the doorway.

  Rosabelle followed suit after Isabelle. She saw her father had come down from the wagon and was giving Isabelle a warm embrace. She also saw he was crying. Not tears of joy as she would expect but sobbing in despair. Isabelle gave her sister a worried glance.

  “Papa, what is wrong?” She asked him, holding his shoulders and leading him inside the house. Isabelle was already pulling the horse and wagon into the barn where she would feed and give the horse some water. Rosabelle helped her father into his chair where he sat and sobbed some more. She waited until her father composed himself. She had never seen him this distraught like this before.

  Thomas Hardy hesitated at first then broke into more sobs as he finally told her what had happened. Rosabelle looked on silently, absorbing every tidbit of information. Her father covered his face with his hands again in shame, “It's all my fault. I cannot bear to lose Isabelle to that man! Not my Isabelle.”

  Rosabelle consoled her father, “Hush, Father. All will be well, I promise. Let me have you wash up and I will bring you something to eat. Let’s not worry Isabelle about this little adventure you’ve had.”

  Rosabelle watched her father go to his room in a weary stride, looking defeated. Losing Isabelle will be like losing their mother all over again. It would break her father’s heart to have Isabelle leave. Reneging on the promise was unthinkable. They would have to honor the terms. She gave a sigh. In her heart she knew what she must do...for the love of her family.

  3

  The carriage arrived promptly on the second day after their father arrived. Rosabelle was ready with her bag. She almost wished it never came but when she saw the carriage with its black and gold emblem pull over at the driveway, she knew why it was here. It had come promptly on the second day after their father had arrived as promised. Isabelle was still unaware about their father’s compromise with a strange man in a white mask She had only explained that a distant relative needed her help taking care of an elderly family member. Her sister did not ask any questions and accepted her explanation.

  “I shall miss you, sister. Write soon.” Isabelle gave her a warm embrace.

  Her father looked sad but she knew that she was a more tolerable loss than Isabelle. He whispered into her ear as he gave her a hug, “Thank you, Rosabelle.”

  She took her bag and handed it off to the footman, whose face was stoic. The driver only glanced her way, making sure she was inside the carriage and the door closed before clicking the straps to the horses. The carriage was grand and spacious and Rosabelle felt very lonely inside as the carriage left her home. She looked back until she could not see the house or her family waving goodbye. She squeezed her eyes, imprinting into memory the image of her father and sister.

  She tightened her scarf around her head, hiding her hideous scars on her right side . She usually wore her scarf when she ventured outside. It minimized the staring from other people. She should get used to it by now but sometimes, she still felt a little self conscious.

  She watched on as they passed trees, hills and more trees. It seemed hours as they went on and on. She stared at the passing scenery, wondering what kind of life awaited her. She dozed off once and woke up with a start when she realized that they were not moving at all. Her heart skipped a beat and felt the beginning flutter of nervousness. They had finally arrived at their destination. She looked out and she saw an enormous castle. It was grand and splendid. It was hidden from the main highway, deep in forest land. She startled when the footman opened the door and was waiting for her to step down. She thanked the footman who nodded in acknowledgment. He handed her the bag and beckoned to step through the massive doors. Rosabelle walked up the steps leading into the doors. She heard the driver click his straps and the carriage took off around the corner. Once inside, she gaped at the high ceilings and there was a carpeted foyer before showcasing a grand staircase leading to both left and right. There were lots of doors both on the first and second floors. She stood just inside the doorway, unsure what to do next.

  She left her bag at the doorway and proceeded to walk down the hallway. She opened the first door to her right. She saw it was a garden and stepped out. She was in a private courtyard, with greenery everywhere. There were flowers of different sort. She marveled at the beauty of them all. Someone took great care of these flowers.

  “I see that wandering off to uninvited places is a family trademark,” came a dry male voice.

  Rosabelle startled and spun around towards the voice, surprised at being found snooping around. She misstepped her right foot which caught at the hem of her dress. She could feel her body losing balance,”Oh!”

  She braced herself for the impact on the floor but felt herself stopping in midair, feeling firm hands around her waist. Sh
e glanced up wildly upwards to the face of her rescuer. And what she saw made her shake in trepidation. Her father warned her that the master of the great castle had a thing with masks. His mask was ghostly white, like a phantom, she thought. It covered his face well except his mouth which was twisted in a sardonic way. She felt herself shiver in fear. She realized then the awkward position she was in and righted herself in a standing position, stepping backwards to allow a respectable distance. She pulled her head scarf tighter.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord. You surprised me.” She gave a curtsy, as best as she knew how. She did not know if it was a good enough curtsy. He did not comment.

  “I see your father kept his part of the bargain,” he replied dryly again. “ I almost expected the family dog instead of his daughter especially when he agreed to my request right away. What is your name?”

  “Rosabelle Hardy, my lord.” She quietly answered, hoping their secret was safe. Surely he had no way in telling she had switched places with Isabelle.

  He gave her the head to toe and flicked his hand, “Rosabelle, has your father mentioned the reason why you are here?”

  Rosabelle pulled the scarf around her head self-consciously, “Yes, my lord. I am here in exchange for his freedom.”

  “More of his lack of foresight.” There was that sarcasm again.

  “Pray, do not speak about my father that way, my lord! He deeply regrets the loss of a flower.” She did not bother hiding the irritation in her voice.

  He gave a sharp intake of breath at her rudeness, “What’s done is done. You will serve in this castle until I am satisfied that the debt has been fully paid. You will report to the kitchens in the morning where you will be assistant to the cook. After your chores are done in the kitchen, you will report to the head gardener. In the afternoon you will report again to the cook. Is that understood?”

  He sounded like a drill captain that Rosabelle answered, “Sir, yes, sir! I mean, yes, my lord.”

  “I can see you have a sense of humor about you.” He neither laughed nor smiled. “Wait at the doorway for my butler, Jenkins. He shall give you a brief layout of the castle and escort you to your room. And no more wandering around in uninvited places. Understood?”

  He did not wait for her reply and walked out of the garden out of her view. Her ears flushed red at how he made her feel like a child. He was rude and did not even give her the opportunity to explain herself. She stomped back to the main part of the house, fuming at the way she was being treated.

  She saw a man in a butler’s uniform waiting for her at the foyer already. Jenkins, she assumed. He was tall and imposing, his face flat with no expression. He was holding her bag and inclined his head in a semi-bow, “Miss, my name is Jenkins, the butler. If you will follow me?”

  The butler walked ahead into the hallway to the left and into a different set of simple staircase. He pointed out that this was the servant’s entryway and he was telling her where the kitchen was where she was to report in the morning. Her took her upstairs to her room which was located at the very end.

  “Your room, miss. Since you missed the servants’ dinner, the cook has prepared something for you in the room. There is a washroom inside should you wish to refresh yourself.” He pointed at a rope in the corner, “In case you require any assistance, give this rope a pull. Someone should answer.” He set her bag down.

  Rosabelle knew instinctively that pulling on that rope was a big nuisance and she reminded herself not to pull it even accidentally. She gave a nod, “Thank you, Mr. Jenkins.”

  “It’s Jenkins, no Mr.,” he corrected. “Good night, Miss.”

  “Er, it’s Rosabelle, er M--Jenkins. Good night.” She saw the butler tap his foot in acknowledgement and walk away.

  She opened the door and saw one of the most elegantly decorated rooms. All this for a servant? The room was spacious, enough to room numerous servants. She also saw that there was a covered tray in one of the tables and candlelights lit the room. It showed the richness of the colors adorning the carpet, curtains and wall. There was another room to her left which she assumed to be the washroom.

  She walked to the window. The sun was already setting. Her room was facing the north side, overlooking a lake and a wide span of green grass. There were swans and ducks preparing for nightfall. She sighed as she contemplated her current situation. She missed home but she loved her father and sister dearly. She will have to get use being alone. She washed up and then ate her dinner which were cucumber sandwiches and beef stew. They tasted so wonderfully delicious! After dinner, she unpacked and sorted out her belongings in the oak closet and drawer. She did not pack much, only the necessities. Oh well, she was now a servant of this grand castle. Her expectations of a happy life miniscule. She looked down at her scars. Who would love a disfigured woman? Her scars were hideous. She will never have that happy ending Isabelle was always mentioning in her books. She sank into the large bed and wrapped herself in the softest covers ever. Her freedom may be cut short but she could still dream a happy ending for herself.

  Lucas, the young master of the castle, was hastily seen going to the gardens late in the evening. His gardener, Pedro, was already there in the greenhouse. He had sent a note via Jenkins notifying him of the news.

  "Is it true?" Lucas asked, a spark of hope injected into his inquiry.

  Pedro beckoned for him to come closer, "I did not want to believe it myself and so soon after the last time. The newcomer must have awakened it or it senses the goodness in her. I am not particularly sure but this is a good sign, my lord. "

  Lucas came closer and slowly bent forward, peering closely. There it was, a very tiny bud was coming out of the thorny bush. It was still a green bulb but there was no mistaking what it was. It was a beginning of a rose and an answer to their prayers.

  4

  Rosabelle woke up early the next morning. She dressed herself in a simple dress and wrapped her head in a silk scarf, carefully hiding her right part of her face and neck. There was a soft knock at her door and she wondered who could it be. She opened the door to a boy not more than ten years of age. He gave her a smile showing a missing front tooth which made him look adorable.

  “Hi! I’m Chip! Mama told me you would need an escort to the kitchens.”

  She smiled back, “I am pleased to meet you, Chip. And who is your mama, Chip?”

  “Why, she’s the best cook in the house, ma’am!”

  She closed her door as she stepped out, “Lead the way, kind sir. I am thankful for your service.”

  She followed Chip down the corridor and back stairs. It was nearly sunrise. She knew they were near their destination when she could hear voices They stopped talking as she and Chip drew near.

  “Good morning, Miss! Have a seat while I bring a bowl of porridge for you. My name is Miranda. I am the cook. You’ve met my son, Chip. I hope you had a good night sleep?”

  Rosabelle eyed the buxom lady who was wearing an apron over her uniform. She moved about the large kitchen with ease, reaching out for a ladle to pour the porridge into the bowl. She made her way to the table where she saw the footman and the driver already seated and eating their breakfast.

  “I slept well. Thank you for asking,” she murmured back as she sat on the bench near the two men.

  Miranda came back and laid the bowl before her, “And these two fine men are Rusty and Davis. You first met them in the carriage.”

  Rosabelle nodded at both them. She assumed Rusty was the footman because of the color of his hair and that made the other man, Davis. They both greeted her and resumed eating their breakfast. Chip sat in front of her and was already spooning his porridge into his mouth.

  “You’re pretty! Even with the scars on your face!” He gave her a grin, so innocent in his sincerity.

  “Chip! That was so rude!” Miranda scolded. She gave Rosabelle an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry. Chip can be quite a handful sometimes. He didn’t mean to offend you, Miss.”

  “I was not offend
ed, Miranda. Please call me Rosabelle.”

  Chip resumed eating, not disconcerted at all. He gave her a sheepish smile and she smiled back in return. She tasted the porridge and widened her eyes, “Miranda, this is the best porridge I have ever tasted. Thank you. This is delicious!”

  That made the rotund-faced cook beam with pleasure, “There’s more where it came from. Help yourself to more, young lady.”

  “This is just fine, Miranda. Thank you.” She went ahead and finished her porridge.

  Davis jumped out of his seat and said gleefully, “Then all the more for me!” He scooped one more ladleful which earned a glare from Miranda.

  Rusty gave a laugh, “If looks can kill, Davis. You’d be dead!”

  Davis puffed his cheeks and waved his spoon, “But I would die with a full belly. That’s heaven for me right there!” He laughed merrily which was so infectious that everyone joined him in laughter.

  Several servants then came in the kitchens. There was the scullery maid, Holly and the chambermaid, Debbie. Jenkins the butler with his prim and proper affect joined them, giving a small nod at Rosabelle in greeting. Two groomsmen who sat beside Rusty and Davis, were Keithley and Morris, if she remembered correctly. The last one to join them was the gardener, Pedro, who was a kindly looking elderly man who reminded her so much of her father that she warmed to him almost immediately. She noticed there were no other kids except Chip. It was odd but not really that unusual. Perhaps the staff were more elderly or there were more staff who were single and never had children.

  After everyone ate breakfast, they slowly made their way out to their chores, Pedro smiled and said, “I look forward to seeing you later in the gardens, young lady.”