Page 83 of The Shadow of Breninsol
After a few hallways too many, it confirmed Eleanor’s suspicions that the young woman was purposefully trying to confuse her. However, Eleanor had been in grand buildings before, so it was almost second nature to commit the route through the expansive residence to memory. She had feigned interest in the lavish decor to spot additional points of entry, cleverly concealed serving accesses, and windows that opened above thick bushes.
“Your room, my lady,” the young woman said as she pushed open the door for Eleanor.
The room was in keeping with others that Eleanor had seen so far in the residence, with high ceilings and wide paned windows, decorated in rich light-coloured fabrics. It was a pretty pink and white bedroom. Eleanor would have thought she’d been disgusted by so much pink, but surprisingly, she liked it. The shades varied throughout the room, so the pieces of furniture subtly matched. Although anything surpassed the peeling grey plaster that was her last room.
This room’s whole effect calmed her. There were no sharp or rough edges, only softness and the fragrance of earthy blossoms. The space was warm despite the granite fireplace being cold. White wooden trim framed light-pink and white floral wallpaper on the walls, and a plush rug covered the wooden floor. White doors on each side of the large bed would lead to her suite of rooms.
Eleanor felt the servant’s scrutiny, and she knew all too well how much servants talked. Whatever she did and said would reach the marquis’s ears in no time.
“Wow,” Eleanor said in awe, and made her eyes widen.
Her reaction to the lavish room was convincing enough to satisfy the servant’s keen eyes, as the woman briefly nodded, then went through the white door on the far side. Eleanor started to follow her but stopped in front of the floor-to-ceilingwindow. She ignored the wonderfully inviting bed with its pink and white floral bed set and its many pillows. Sinking into its softness would have to wait.
Eleanor pulled at the edge of the matching pink and white drapes to see the window paned doors opened onto a small balcony, much too small for table and chairs, just for letting air in and exterior decoration. She craned her neck to peer over the balustrade. It wasn’t a long drop to the ground, and the room overlooked a grassy section of the garden. A smile tugged at her lips as she caught the glint of still water through the trees.
Rushing water echoed from the room the servant had disappeared into. Assuming the other door would lead to a series of rooms, Eleanor strode to the other side of the big bed and opened the matching white door, then halted.
A small, simple room lay beyond the door. It was big enough to step in and turn around, but nothing more. Empty wooden rails and shelves lined the three white walls. It was a wardrobe, a tiny one.
Eleanor stepped back into the floral bedroom, and that was when she fully looked at the room. The furniture was functional, but basic for a noble household. There wasn’t even a bookcase. The cold stone fireplace faced the two pink armchairs at the foot of the bed, with a table placed between them, currently holding a large tray. Curling steam poured from the teapot, and a matching pink tea set held a selection of pastries and dainty sandwiches. A white dressing table, accompanied by a pink and white stool, and a white cabinet holding two glasses and a crystal decanter of red wine, occupied the corner.
The marquis had assigned her to a small, unimportant guest bedroom, a room that was usually designated for minor guests, or a member of a guest’s household. This room wasn’t meant for a Favour. A Favour had some standing in a lord’s household,she would have been at least near the lord’s room, but she likely wasn’t even on the same floor as the marquis.
Even though this room surpassed her previous room at The Ladies Grace, perhaps he was relying on her ignorance of the room’s significance. But to her the message was clear, she was in this small, albeit pretty, room to be out of sight, out of mind. It was somewhere to put her to one side, to forget her. Alone.
Eleanor swallowed uncomfortably at the thought.
The running water stopped, and the servant reappeared in the bedroom. She ducked into a quick curtsey. “Is everything satisfactory, my lady?”
If this room was significant, then…Eleanor looked, truly looked, at the young woman this time. She was young, but her eyes gave her away. Eleanor remembered her then, she was the servant with the firm brown eyes, who’d led her through the residence from the marquis’s party and who the other younger servant had deferred to. This woman was highly ranked in the marquis’s household.
“For now,” Eleanor replied.
“Would you like me to undress and wash you, my lady?”
“No, thank you.”
Eleanor felt a chill in the air as the realisation sunk in of what it meant for her.
“I can light the fires if you’d prefer, my lady?” the servant asked.
“Not right now, thank you.”
“As you wish, my lady.”
The woman’s eyes flickered briefly to the bag in Eleanor’s grip. “Can I take your bag now, my lady?”
Eleanor gave her a small smile, she hadn’t allowed the woman to take it from her at the lakeside, and she still hadn’t relinquished its grip. The bag’s contents hinted at significance, yet her response wasn’t extraordinary. After all, she was aprostitute who had been bought and uprooted, leaving her with few possessions.
“I’ll manage, thank you.” Eleanor was tiring of this farce, and before the woman could offer anything further, she said in a clipped tone, “That’ll be all.”
The woman blinked at her, a single, sharp blink that spoke volumes.
Fuck.
Eleanor coughed. That had sounded more authoritative than it should have. “I mean, I’d like to be alone for a bit. It’s been a trying day, and it’s not even midday.” She hoped that garnered some sympathy from the woman.
The woman gave her a polite smile and curtseyed. “Of course, my lady. If you need anything, pull this and it’ll call me to attend to you,” she explained, pointing to the pink velvet rope by the bed.
