Chapter 335: Storm [2]
Eloise returned to her bedchamber, preparing to dress for bed earlier than usual.
If a storm truly was approaching the town, then it would be the perfect weather to finish her book and begin another. The thought of curling beneath the blankets with pages to distract her from the restless sky gave her a small comfort.
Inside the chamber, Hannah assisted her with her gown. Eloise’s gaze lingered on the window, where the clouds kept getting darker.
"Come to me the moment Iris returns with Reece, and as soon as Jane’s guest departs. If the sky worsens, I must have her guest leave quickly to reach home in due time. It unsettles me how swiftly the sky changes," Eloise said, seeking answers to how it happens.
Turning back, she added, "Please inform the butler to call the gardeners and the other servants inside if the sky does not clear. I will not have anyone fall ill."
"As you wish," Hannah replied softly. "Milady?"
"Yes," Eloise answered, glancing over her shoulder.
"Forgive me if this is too bold, but several maids have spoken of your troubles with Lord Hawthorne’s aunt. I have friends within the Hawthorne households, and if it may serve you, there seems to be discord in that marriage," Hannah shared with caution as she feared overstepping.
Eloise’s brows lifted. Her curiosity was piqued despite her reluctance to indulge in gossip. "Why?"
"They do not know the cause. Recently, her husband returned home and grabbed the coachman. Lady Camille ushered him inside, and their quarrelling could be heard beyond the door. I cannot say what was spoken," Hannah confessed, wishing she had more to offer.
"This is enough. Is it common for maids to share tales of other households? A story about my husband and cousin was twisted and spread only recently. How am I to keep hold of this?" Eloise asked as she turned fully to face Hannah.
"You cannot silence it entirely, milady. Maids will always speak. Some ladies even send their servants into other homes to spy. I can keep watch for you," Hannah offered.
"Wouldn’t I be just as guilty, having you tell me what occurs in Camille’s home?" Eloise wondered, conflicted.
"Perhaps. Yet if others are spying on you, it is only fair you know the same. I can only share my peers’ concerns. Truthfully, when employers mistreat us, that is when we speak most," Hannah admitted.
"Does Camille mistreat her servants?" Eloise pressed, surprised by this.
"The pay is said to be generous, so I even considered working there myself, but it is her children who bring misery. They are left unchecked, and when they cause trouble, the servants suffer her wrath. Many maids leave because of it," Hannah explained, grateful she came to the estate instead.
She continued, "That is why my friend was so troubled by the attack on the coachman. It is difficult for them to keep one, and she fears her work will become unbearable. She is already seeking other employment."
"That is unfortunate. I did not know such things occurred in Camille’s home. Thank you for sharing this, but I do not want you to pry further. I will need your help only to know which maids are twisting tales," Eloise said, though her heart softened at Hannah’s loyalty.
"The maids will speak regardless, but I cannot allow them to harm those I care for. Aside from what I have asked, please take a rest until dinner. I hope I have not overworked you," Eloise added, fearing she might lose Hannah’s devotion.
"Not at all, Lady Hawthorne. You have made this service pleasant for me. I feel there is much more I should do for you," Hannah replied. "I am your loyal servant, always at your disposal."
"I shall keep that in mind. Do rest, and do not spend your spare time searching for spies straightaway. Change into a more comfortable dress and keep yourself warm in case the rain pours," Eloise suggested.
Hannah curtsied. "I shall do so. Please excuse me, Lady Hawthorne. I will pass on all your orders."
Eloise smiled, watching Hannah depart before turning back to the window. She walked towards the window, trying to get a glimpse of Jane with her guest, or Damien somewhere nearby.
Unable to see either one, she went to her bed, taking up a book to lose herself in its pages.
After what felt like hours, Damien entered the chamber. His plans to make himself have the flu had failed, as he quickly became bored roaming the garden.
"I sent Jane’s guest away, as the rain is about to fall. Iris has returned, though she and her brother wish to speak privately. I have come to offer my arms to keep you warm," Damien said, approaching the bed with a smile that ended her loneliness.
"This blanket is already doing just that. Is it only me, or does this weather feel as though it is preparing for trouble?" Eloise asked, glancing at the dark clouds. "I hope Quinn and Kyle are wise enough to stay indoors."
"We are all accounted for. If there is trouble, it will not be ours," Damien assured her.
"Your brothers are not accounted for, since they are not at the estate. I can only hope everyone on our side is well. Iris is safe, and you are here with me. Hopefully, no trouble will come with your name attached," Eloise said, lifting the blanket for him to join her.
"Why must my name always be tied to trouble?" Damien asked, sliding his arm beneath her pillow for her to lie on it.
"Because you are always plotting. It cannot concern Clive or Agatha unless you have found her, so it must be Hayden and Camille. I only hope that when this storm passes, no guard will be at our door demanding to see you," Eloise said.
"You mustn’t speak of this out loud, as it might become our reality. Perhaps it is the books you read that plant these thoughts. Show me the title," Damien said, reaching for the cover.
"All the books I read come from your libraries," Eloise replied, closing the book for him to see.
"Well, I did not select them. Most have been here longer than I have been alive. You are reading a book full of drama. Is our life not dramatic enough?" Damien teased, settling beside her.
"It is, and that is why I prefer reading of someone else’s troubles," Eloise answered. Her attention soon went to the storm outside, where the first drops of rain began to show on the glass.