The Lady of Blackwood Chpt 13

Chapter 13 - Troubled

Lying awake in bed Florence could not reconcile what she had seen with the picture she had formed of each of the people. She turned over various excuses, but had to discard them in favour of the obvious. She could think of no proper reason why Count Marcus should have three pretty women in his bedroom late at night. Thinking of the not-so-innocent reasons create a storm of emotions inside her. She wanted to scream in anger and outrage, and cry in misery and rejection. It was her own fault for creating an image of perfection in her head. Of course the Count was not perfect. It made sense that something like this should be his flaw.
'But Elizabeth?' she thought angrily. She never expected him to be interested in a child. She never expected any of it, but Elizabeth made it worse. So much worse.
There was also the question of them being married, even though it was only in name. She felt she deserved more than this. She deserved some semblance of respect and honour. 'At least take the women elsewhere!', she thought and startled herself when her pillow went flying and crashed into the dresser. 'Or wait until I've gone to town.'
Her room was bathed with the cool grey of early dawn when she finally dropped off to sleep.

The maidservants who came to dress her and bring her breakfast found their lady in a distant mood indeed. All their questions about the previous evening's party, were met with closed-ended answers. Neither did they receive a better answer when they asked why she would not eat. Elizabeth, sensing that Florence needed some time to herself, hurried the maidservants in their work.
Thankful to finally be alone, Florence wandered through the Castle Gardens, neglecting her own for the first time since its conception. It took her half the morning to understand her situation. It took the rest of the morning and afternoon to figure out what to do about it. Truth be told, she saw no real options. She could speak to no one about it; not Clara, for she was continuously in the company of the town gossipers; not her father, for the disappointment of the failed marriage would ruin him; not the Count, for she was not brave enough for such a confrontation. Familiar sounds tried to break in upon her musings, pounding as upon the wall of a besieged castle. Florence tried to ignore it but then suddenly recognised it and snapped back to where she stood, amidst the castle gardens. She whirled towards the sound.
"I've been looking all over for you." Elizabeth stood at the end of the garden path, hand on her hip. "What on earth are you doing here, my lady?"
Florence watched as Elizabeth wobbled closer.
"When you did not turn up in your room., we came looking for you. Do you realize there is less than half an hour before dinner?"
Stunned, Florence turned to the western horizon which was barely visible through the dense grove of trees, and sure enough, the sun was making ready to bed down. When she did not move, Elizabeth seated herself and put her crutch down on the grass next to the bench. Comfortably settled, she drew a deep breath.
"It was a beautiful day, don't you think?"
"Indeed." Florence had been expecting that Elizabeth would rush her to her room to prepare for dinner. Seeing her so relaxed put Florence at ease.
"I'm glad Marcus kept the Gardens", Elizabeth said. "Apparently there was someone – I don't know who – who'd said he should do away with them. But I'm glad he didn't. And he's having the caretakers look after it so the woods don't take over. It's so magical, don't you think? Though I would love it if there were more flowers. Oh! Would that there was less green and more yellow. Yes, yellow – "
"Elizabeth." Upon seeing Elizabeth's expectant gaze, Florence almost lost her nerve. "Something has been bothering me."
"I know it very well."
"Do you know what it is?"
"I haven't the foggiest, though I'd guess some thing's happened between last night and this morning." When Florence nodded, Elizabeth continued. "Last night you were – seemed – happy. We had such a lovely time, but then Marcus made me play the piano in front of everybody – I'll get him back, wait and see. Then he kidnapped you." She kicked playfully at a tuft of grass with her good leg. "And next: I saw you this morning and you looked as if you'd seen a ghost!" Taking Florence's hand in hers, she asked, "Did he do something to you?"
"No, not at all. Not really. I mean, not physically."
Elizabeth's brow furrowed with consternation.
Florence took air and plunged in. "Beth, I saw you." It was clear from Elizabeth's blank stare that she would need to be clearer. "I went to get some milk, because I was thirsty and I thought it would help me sleep and then I saw you come out of his room and he kissed you and it was late and... I don't know." She pulled her hand from Elizabeth's and massaged her temples as though she could make sense of everything that way.
"Mary and Justine were there too and they were in their nightgowns and it was so very late and you're so young. And then I forgot my milk." With the last words she burst into tears, covering her face with her hands.
"There, there, come now. I can't believe you think...", Elizabeth stammered, "you think we... That we... that he would... My dear Florence, you have it all wrong. I didn't know it would look like – He would never. Surely you must know Marcus wouldn't do that?"
"I've been thinking about this all morning", Florence sobbed. "I don't know what else to think. Please do give me an alternative", she sniffed, "because I cannot stand the obvious conclusion."
"I don't know if I'm allowed to say", the perplexed Elizabeth stammered.
"Allowed!", Florence exclaimed; her tears evaporated as the heat of her anger flared up. "You are not allowed to give the wife of the man, in whose room you were, an explanation?", she thundered. "So help me, Elizabeth, if you do not tell me what went on in there I will go to the priest in town and to all other authority figures I can find and have you and every other young maiden removed from the Count's care." She could feel the heat continue to build up inside. The coals that had been smouldering the whole day were now turned into a blazing furnace. "I will not stand by while he does what he likes. I refuse to be a part of any of this. The very idea makes me sick", she spewed out angrily, her fists clenched into balls.
"Please, Florence, calm down and believe me when I say it's not what you think", Elizabeth said, with hands raised as if to ward off a blow.
"Then tell me!" Florence demanded pleadingly.
"I can't!" Elizabeth was close to tears now.
"Be-eth!", called Mary from nearby.
"E-li-za-beth!", called Justine, nearer still.
"Over here!", replied Elizabeth with a quick glance at Florence. Branches creaked and ferns moved out of the way to reveal Justine and Mary, the latter was red-faced from exertion.
"Oh, you found her!" Mary said, pleased.
"Do you realize the time? His Lordship will be displeased to know you are the reason her Ladyship is late."
The indignant Elizabeth tried to retort, "But –"
"Come, come, we must hurry and get you dressed", Mary rushed them, in her motherly way. "His Lordship might be waiting already."
"Then let him wait." Florence was unable to restrain herself. The maids only now looked at Florence more closely and saw she was red-faced and obviously close to bursting a vein from fury. Their mouths all but hung open as Florence rose from the bench.
"You... how dare you!" Florence pointed to the two newcomers, hand trembling. The maids froze in mid-stride, both were alarmed and unsure of what was going on.
"What were you doing in the Count's rooms last night?" It was as though someone spilled a bucket of white paint over the two. Their faces were paler than even Elizabeth's.
"Don't deny that you were there. I saw you with my own eyes!" She couldn't help narrowing them at the voluptuous Justine who was even now threatening to burst from her dress. "Now please tell me – because Elizabeth here won't – what were three young ladies doing in the Count's room at such a late hour – in such flimsy nightgowns! Heavens! I could make out your every curve Justine?" Before they opened their mouths, she knew what the answer would be,
"I apologize, my lady, but I can't say." Mary stammered and bowed her head respectfully, while the shame-faced Justine made herself less visible, chiefly by hiding behind the former.
"Can't say or won't say?" She turned on Justine.
"Can't, my lady", Justine responded.
"I see..." Florence said, and then added reproachfully, "I thought you were my friends."
Their faces fell and Elizabeth quietly cried.
"Very well, I am late for my dinner. You may tend your chores. I shall not be needing your help to dress for tonight's meeting with my husband." It was clear from their wringing hands and distraught shared glances that the ladies caught the cold sarcasm in her last word.