Chapter 4 New page

I was awakened by a noise in the house. Reluctantly, she rolled over onto her back and opened her eyes. The small room was filled with gray daylight. I wonder how long I slept The sky was covered with heavy, dark clouds, and there were not even small gaps. It seems like it's still early in the morning. I glanced at the small round clock that stood on the table beside me. And then she sat down. Ten o'clock! I overslept!

"Mistress Amy, are you coming for breakfast?" - I heard the voice of Amisa, our young maid.

- Yes thank you! I'm already going.

I usually got up early and had breakfast much earlier. Oh, how did I get hurt?

She quickly put herself in order, washed herself and changed into a house dress. I need to have a bite to eat, and after that I will have another two hours to change into a beautiful dress, do my hair and dress up for the meeting.

- Good morning! I greeted the cook and maid, whom I found in the dining room.

They greeted back. The cook immediately went to the kitchen, and Amissa continued to clear the table after the other members of the family.

I cut a fragrant fresh bun, buttered it. It was chilly in the dining room, and a mug of hot herbal tea was steaming.

"Madam, how are you feeling?" Amissa suddenly asked.

I was surprised. For some reason, we never spoke to her before. She worked for us for more than three months, and for some reason, we still haven't spoken even a few phrases.

- Everything is fine. I'm fine. And you?

The girl suddenly sat down next to him. Her big eyes sparkled. She looked flustered. I involuntarily recoiled, peering into the oily blackness of her eyes.

"Thanks, I'm fine too," she replied.

The girl pronounced the words with a strong accent, but did not distort. When the problems started, dad had to dismiss part of the servants. Some temporarily, some permanently. That's when Amissa appeared. People who came here from overseas to work, took less for their services. But the employers provided them with food and housing, in addition to the basic payment. I looked at the interlocutor and her appearance seemed so unusual. Black hair with springs, put away in a bun. Dark, smooth skin. Puffy lips and a small nose. Unusual, but so beautiful.

"Mistress, I had a dream that would come true," the girl continued. - You will have a long road, very soon. Get ready. Another man, unfamiliar. He will pick you up from home. Like fire, it can burn you, but if you listen to it, nothing will happen. Frightening, but it is better to believe him.

I became uncomfortable. Amisa spoke with such confidence. She grabbed images from her head and voiced them without hiding at all.

"Amisa, thank you, of course, but these are all fairy tales. I don't believe in prophetic dreams. But thanks for sharing.

She barely smiled, shrugged her shoulders and, having collected the rest of the dishes, cheerfully left. What a strange girl. Now I was no longer surprised that we had not communicated before.

Immediately after breakfast, I went to my room. A few minutes later my sisters and mother came. The small room immediately became crowded.

"Well," Mom began, taking a deep breath. We have a few hours to prepare. Ready?

"Of course," I agreed.

Previously, I had an assistant who was engaged in outfits, did my hair, helped with the collection. But after the scandal, she stopped coming. But I considered her a close friend. But maybe it's good that she's gone. Perhaps dad would have fired her among the first when financial problems began.

Loya placed a box of hairpins, ribbons, and jewelry in front of the mirror. Mom laid on the bed a soft blue dress that I had never seen before.

I was seated in front of a mirror, and Heli began to comb my hair. I saw in the reflection how Loya sat down on the bed with a book in her hands. How my mother gently ran her hands through my hair and, grabbing a few strands from my face, began to twist them together. Heli watched the process intently, tilting her head slightly to one side.

All this evoked nostalgia. As if nothing bad happened, and my assistant just got sick, so my mother helps me with my hair, as it sometimes happened before.

The lines of a popular ode about love and fidelity sounded. Loya could read beautifully. With feeling, pausing and changing intonation in the right places. Involved in the story, giving it special shades with her own voice.

And again I had the feeling that we were saying goodbye. Also, Amisa's words about the fast road flashed in her memory.

"You are beautiful," Mom said proudly when the hairstyle was ready. - Do not worry everything will be fine.

Warm hands rested on my shoulders, and I calmed down a bit. We looked at each other in the reflection. There seemed to be a silent understanding between us. I knew she was with me, by my side. And that made it easier.

And now the dress! Loya exclaimed, putting down her book and jumping out of bed. "It's so soft, just like you, Amy. With this hairstyle and in this dress you will look amazing!

I slid behind the screen, taking my outfit with me. She asked Heli to fasten the small mother-of-pearl buttons on her back, from the waist to the very neck. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. Blond hair was pulled up in a high hairstyle. The multi-layered collar only slightly covered the neck. Narrow sleeves reached the middle of the forearm. The upper part of the dress was tight to the body, and the skirt was loose. Such was the fashion now, and this style has become my favorite. I even for a second felt like the same, the former, which I will never be, because the past cannot be returned. To the enthusiastic exclamations of the sisters, she once again examined herself in the mirror and accepted shiny, long earrings from her mother's hands. They completed the look perfectly. There was only the smallest thing left - to put on dispassion, so as not to slide into another tantrum.

After a while, the sisters went to their rooms, and my mother went to the kitchen to check if everything was ready for dinner. The excitement grew with every minute. How will everything go? What should I say? How to behave? Mom gave no parting words, except: "You have always been prudent, I'm sure, and this time you will succeed. Father will speak, you just listen." Well, I could. But what if this man starts asking me uncomfortable questions? Ask about things I don't want to talk about? How difficult.

Suddenly there was a short knock on the door, and it immediately opened. I turned around and, seeing the face of my sister, immediately guessed everything.

"Amy, go to the dining room, your father is waiting," Heli said quickly. "Mr Erton is already here!" Good luck dear! she added hotly.

I didn't have time to answer when the door slammed shut.

She closed her eyes for a second, gathering her courage. She took one last look in the mirror and found that she had turned even paler than before. She rubbed her cheeks with icy fingers, and wandered into the dining room. It seemed that with each step the legs became more and more naughty, and strove to refuse halfway. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his breathing, on the contrary, slowed down and became intermittent.

The corridor seemed to have become twice as short, and now I am at the massive doors of dark wood. Tried to calm down. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and pulled the door toward her.

"Good afternoon," I greeted him first.

Near the fireplace, in which logs crackled measuredly, stood my father and another man. They immediately fixed their eyes on me.

My heart skipped a beat, and immediately began to beat faster when the guest confidently walked towards me, leaning on a cane. He was visibly limping, as if crouching on his right leg. He stopped next to me and I couldn't take my eyes off him. The man was tall, taller than my father, and I barely reached his shoulder. I had to tilt my head back to see his face. Amazing eyes, like ice, crystal blue, clear and very bright, looked sternly. I wanted to hide from this look, but of course I didn't, and stubbornly continued to study it with my eyes. In places, his skin was covered in barely healed wounds, as if a few days ago Mr. Erton had hit his head hard on something. But there were also hardened, older scars. Small and larger, they covered a beautiful face with a firm chin and sensual lips with a kind of net. Mr. Mont, a local respected artist, would certainly ask this man to pose for his portrait. And I, if I could express my feelings on paper. Perhaps I was not too objective, but it seemed to me that these terrible marks did not in the least spoil the pleasant appearance of Mr. Erton, and even gave him some charm.

The scars went down and were hidden behind a high collar, fastened with all buttons. It was difficult to guess what this man was thinking - with too serious, unreadable eyes, he slid over my face.

I flinched and my eyebrows shot up as something touched my fingers. The man raised my hand to his lips and kissed me, looking straight into my eyes. Even through the leather gloves that were wrapped around his arms, he felt warm. From the touch, I felt like an electric shock and I blinked often, often. Fears, assumptions, hope: so many things swirled inside at once, intertwining with each other, confusing thoughts.

"Mistress Martin," she heard a clear, clear voice.

- Amy, Mr. Erton Cole. Cole, my eldest daughter, Amy, dad introduced us to each other.

I didn't even notice when he got to us. Finally, she nodded and managed to look away. The image of my potential fiancé filled my thoughts with bright strokes. Now I was worried, but for some reason I did not feel fear. The Pope offered to sit down and invited the servants to set the table. It seems that the three of us will have dinner, although I assumed that they would escort me out immediately after we met.

"Let me talk to Amy," Cole said suddenly. We need to clarify a couple of points.

After these words, I felt uneasy. What will he ask? Details of that day? So they have already been discussed by all and sundry. However, there was a pang in my chest. Dad shifted his wary gaze from Cole to me. I barely shrugged my shoulders. If so needed...

- Fine. I'll be back in a couple of minutes," the father said loudly, once again looking intently at the guest.

As the door closed behind my dad, I looked at Cole. He took a step towards me, and was suddenly very close. So much so that I felt the warmth emanating from him, and the pleasant smell of herbs melting in the hot sun, so beautifully combined with the color of his eyes. I froze, waiting for clarification or questions, or both. And Mr. Erton did not make us wait long.

"Amy, I need to see your shoulder.