“Thank you.” It had actually gone better than expected. Lydia felt somewhat empowered—just the way she’d felt after dismissing Orwell’s household help.
“Do you plan to dismiss Mr. Crubbs too?” A smile crept across Fanny’s thin lips and tiny creases appeared at the corners of her eyes. “I can hardly wait for that.”
Lydia arched a brow. She tolerated much from her hirelings, like her outspoken rotund cook who always seemed to have a thick wooden spoon in her right fist, the muttering butler whose age-lined features would surely crack if he smiled even a little, and the young, vivacious Fanny, with wits as sharp as her tongue. However, Lydia needed to reinforce the boundaries now again. Otherwise, her paid help would surely take advantage of her the way Orwell’s staff had done.
A sigh escaped Lydia as she collapsed into one of the winged-back, upholstered chairs near the hearth. This world was filled with villains and she couldn’t wait to return home to her father’s country estate. When Father learned what manner of beast Orwell Easton had turned out to be, he’d regret ever making the match.
But why had her parents not returned her letters or telegrams?
Lydia’s stomach knotted.
“Shall I watch for Mr. Crubbs, ma’am?” A sparkle entered Fanny’s green eyes. “I’ll be sure to send him right in.”
“No, thank you. I would prefer that you finish with the upstairs cleaning and allow Mr. Stiles to do his job as my butler.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Obvious disappointment washed over the woman.
Lydia regretted her harsh tone. “I imagine my family may arrive any day and, of course, I’d like to present them with clean bedrooms.”
“For company. Of course.” Fanny perked up, inclined her head and left the study. The heels of her shoes clapped against the marble stairwell only moments later.
How Lydia wished she could call Fanny a friend. But circumstances as they were, Lydia could make no attachments here in Milwaukee. Orwell never allowed her to develop acquaintances, so she hadn’t a single friend in this city. She’d been Orwell’s “pet” and never left this house unaccompanied. His staff then reported back to him about every person Lydia spoke to, every shop she visited. As for correspondences Lydia had penned while married, they never made it out of the house without Orwell’s approval first. Her pleas for Father to come and fetch her only enraged Orwell and resulted in severe beatings.
Lydia stood and strode to the lead paned windows and stared into the courtyard. Her former bedroom was on the adjacent side of the house, and almost daily, while Orwell lived, she had considered flinging herself from her second story chamber window to the brick pavement below. Her fear was that she would survive. And then what? She’d be at Orwell’s mercy all the more. Just imagining what he might have done to her if she couldn’t fight back brought up another taste of bile that was difficult to swallow back down.
The only good in her life occurred when her wretched husband allowed her weekly visits to the Milwaukee Public Library. Those outings had been her lifeline. Books were her escape. And in many ways they still were.
Stepping to Orwell’s massive desk, Lydia fingered the borrowed law text. She had studied it. She knew she had rights as Orwell’s widow—rights her soon-to-be former solicitor failed to mention.
A man cleared his throat, giving Lydia a start. For a fleeting moment she imagined Orwell standing at the entryway of his study. He would have pounded her senseless if he’d ever discovered her in his study. This room had been off limits while Orwell lived and breathed.
But those days were over
Gone.
Dead and buried with the horrid man. Now Lydia could begin to live again.
She willed her heart to cease its hammering, and fixed her gaze on Mr. Stiles’ tall, lanky frame filling a third of the wide doorway.
“Mr. Frederick Crubbs to see you, madam.”
“Ah, yes…” With her hand on the law book, Lydia couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Please, send him in.”
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Andrea Kuhn Boeshaar is a Wisconsin author of over 40 books with ONE MILLION COPIES SOLD! The three components in all of her stories are faith, family, and forever relationships. In addition to fiction, she guest blogs and writes devotionals & magazine articles with the hope of encouraging readers wherever they are in their spiritual journeys.
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Give Me Thine Heart: A Novella Page 13
