Chapter 2
With the war declared between Falaine and Bromheim, Elise saw how everything in town and at Lady Patrice’s manor swiftly changed. The conflict had brought not only fear, but the sudden prudence of keeping one’s valuables closer at hand.
As troops moved across the kingdom, it soon became common for soldiers to seek lodging in houses that displayed a measure of wealth.
The king’s men had an open decree to gather any valuables they saw fit.
Even Lady Patrice, ever generous and with a well-stocked larder, was inclined to hide away her paintings, jewels, and other such items the king might find easy to take.
Elise continued her romance with Edward, relieved to notice that his affections appeared entirely unmoved by the political tempest.
Despite her shifting environment, Elise felt safe and in a complete disposition to remain that way.
One night, without wishing to pry, she became aware of the origins of Lady Patrice and her family’s wealth.
She was not surprised to learn that the great sum of coin had come from generations of careful keeping, though it seemed that it had not been equally preserved by some of Lady Patrice’s siblings.
Elise came upon this knowledge by overhearing Edward and her protector whispering in the kitchens, lamenting the tragic fate of one of their relatives.
Lady Patrice’s brother had moved to Bromheim after gathering his portion of the same inheritance that had allowed his sister to enjoy her present comforts.
Much like Lady Patrice, he had been inclined to look among the lower stations for a companion, and in his case, when seeking a wife.
The difficulty lay in that his chosen bride, in addition to possessing little education, proved most reckless in matters of trade, and nearly every venture they undertook ended in loss.
With his coin depleted and some pride still clinging to him, the brother had joined the army in hopes of securing a steadier livelihood, and perhaps distinguishing himself enough to restore his family’s standing.
That hope, however, did not survive him.
He perished in his efforts, leaving behind a widow and two daughters more burdened than before and with little to show for his attempts.
Lady Patrice decided at once to send for these wretched people, setting quill to paper and inviting the unfortunate souls to her estate where she might care for them in her brother’s honor.
None of this afflicted Elise in the slightest. On the contrary, she was more than ready to receive them with the same kindness she had come to show everyone within the manor.
Seeing herself as nearly part of the family already, her heart lifted at the thought of extending her future circle of relations.
But soon after Lady Greta and her well-fed daughters, Rebecca and Iness, arrived at the estate, Elise found that the kindness of Lady Patrice’s family had not passed with the marriage.
Lady Greta appeared a humble woman upon first meeting, but within a week her true nature became quite clear.
The widow seemed to take pleasure only in leisure, and even the most minuscule task required the assistance of a servant.
She claimed Lady Patrice’s brother had spoiled her, and that after years of doing very little, her muscles had grown so weak that the slightest effort confined her to bed for days.
By the second week, Lady Greta spent most of her time there, forgetting any arrangements that required her attention.
The only thing she never forgot was her meals, for which she requested a bell to keep at her bedside to summon assistance as needed.
Lady Patrice seemed determined to see the recent widow only under the soft light of victimhood.
To her, the newcomers could be nothing more than unfortunate souls in need, still suffering the most sorrowful pains.
It therefore became nearly impossible for her to notice anything that contradicted the comfortable vision she held of her relatives.
One of the daughters, Rebecca, was fond of a cat she kept as a pet.
The wicked animal, for its own amusement, took the lives of many small creatures around the manor.
Lady Greta insisted it was necessary to rid the place of vermin, though the animal appeared less a hunter than an enthusiast, dispatching birds and other small animals in troubling numbers each day.
Combined with their resolve to do as they pleased in Lady Patrice’s estate, these fine ladies were a force of appetite, taking twice their fill each night and never satisfied with the generosity shown to them.
Seeing that these people were of a grasping sort, Elise avoided them as much as she could in hopes of not stirring up trouble.
But trouble reached poor Elise sooner than expected, as the daughters quickly took notice of how well-spoken she was and what a pleasing figure she possessed.
In the ever-greedy eyes of these women, Elise looked every bit a member of the ton, although not for all the gold in the world would they ever voice that thought.
On the contrary, seeing how their own manners and appearance fell short in comparison, their envy grew almost as fast as their waistlines.
Convinced they had far more right to pass for nobles than a girl with no one to speak for her, these rapacious young women soon decided that if Elise enjoyed such comfort, they deserved a hundred times better.
Rebecca and Iness began to demand everything Elise had, only better: finer dresses, greater access to the corners of the manor, more time with Lady Patrice.
They even convinced the lady of the house to reserve the library for family, having noticed how much Elise enjoyed it and suspecting, perhaps, that within its walls lay the secret to her happiness and wit.
That was the first disappointment for Elise, but she comforted herself with the thought that she would soon become part of the family and saw it as a passing inconvenience. At times it seemed a bad omen, but she did not let it spoil her hopes and dreams.
Soon, Lady Greta and her daughters grew bored with everything they had received with so little effort, and seeing how content Elise remained, their unoccupied minds began to wander into ever more unrealistic requests, ranging from more social engagements to more dresses, more shoes, a proper bed for the cat, and more of everything they could name.
The fine ladies were easily bored indeed.
They visited the library once and, finding nothing of interest beyond history, art, and cooking manuscripts, soon decided the books would be better preserved if untouched.
Edward warned Lady Patrice of the state of her finances, now strained by the expanded household.
The lady chose to ignore the matter at first, hoping that like the food in the kitchen, the problems would disappear on their own.
But as is often the case, they did not. When it came time for the increasingly nervous lady to limit the appetites of Lady Greta and her daughters, they did not learn to enjoy the life so conveniently provided, but instead set about lowering Elise’s happiness at once.
As had become a steady habit of Elise, one afternoon she set out to read by the lake, hoping to escape the turmoil of the manor and see her small rabbit friend. She had even brought a whole apple for him, expecting to find the creature waiting in its usual spot.
But what Elise found was no bunny waiting in the sunlight or nestled in the grass, but a rather dreadful sight.
The poor creature lay just beside the bench, with the marks of cat teeth upon its neck.
Elise did not have to wonder long. The rabbit rested at an angle that spoke plainly enough of what had occurred.
The matter had been settled in a single stroke.
The beast had attacked Elise’s friend with the same ferocity its owners showed at the dinner table.
Elise brought the injustice to Lady Patrice in the most polite and articulate manner, but despite her efforts, her protector, a widow herself, dismissed it outright.
“But Elise, they are family,” she said with remorseful eyes.
Added to the small, mean habits of Lady Greta and her daughters, Elise found herself at the limit of what any reasonable person could endure.
She felt the loss of her small friend more keenly than the passing of her own kin. She kept her composure as best she could, but seeing that no one was inclined to interfere with cruelty or injustice, she resolved to put an end to the conduct of Lady Greta and her fleshy daughters.
With far less politeness than she had shown Lady Patrice, Elise faced the offending party with the determination of someone newly appointed to command. She demanded that the cat be removed and declared the outrage nothing short of murder.
The fine women in question wasted no time in contorting the whole affair into a play in which they cast themselves as the victims and Elise as the most despicable creature imaginable.
With Lady Greta and her daughters employing such artful tactics, the whole matter soon soured for Elise.
Lady Patrice’s habit of avoiding conflict, paired with Edward’s lack of support when she related the tragedy, led to a marked decline in Elise’s happiness, and from then on, she moved about the manor with little comfort and a growing sense of caution.
At times, Elise regretted having faced such people.
She had been naive, thinking Lady Patrice needed someone with a bit more backbone to set things straight and stand up for what was right.
She had taken her protector’s kindness as a sign of some regard for justice, believing that family ties merely prevented her from voicing concern or disagreement.
Elise had entertained all these hopeful thoughts, but she was soon corrected.
After her brave display, her world turned from pink to gray.
It did not take long to learn that justice and comfort did not pair well under Lady Patrice’s roof.
Had these venerable people arrived a few months later, they would have found Elise not a maiden but Edward’s wife. They would not have dared challenge her then, but seeing her fragile standing, they set themselves to a brand of gossip that could only have been imported from Bromheim.
Elise passed her days almost in solitude about the manor.
Not even the servants cared to entertain conversation.
She soothed herself with the thought that Lady Patrice would return to her former kindness once she was married to Edward.
Spring was coming, and from then only a few months separated her from being part of the family.
To Elise, the situation was temporary and easily solved.
And although she had little stomach to sit near Lady Greta and her daughters, she was ready to come to a reasonable solution.
The others, however, spared her the trouble of solving a thing.
They began taking their meals with Lady Patrice in the solar a few days after the quarrel.
Only Elise failed to see the obvious, for even the servants about the manor required no foretelling. Soon, Edward’s visits grew scarce, and even Lady Patrice’s ever-pleasant smiles began to falter.
One evening, after a plentiful dinner, Lady Patrice visited Elise in her chamber. Her protector lowered her head and delivered the most dreadful tidings Elise had heard in her eighteen springs.
The wedding was cancelled. Edward had entrusted Lady Patrice with the kindness of breaking the news to her.
The gallant young man would not trouble the manor with his presence until summer, though there was little need to mark the date.
Along with the heartbreak, Lady Patrice saw fit to inform Elise she was to leave the house as well.
Elise was once more left with nothing, only this time she carried no small pain from a broken illusion.
She gathered her few dresses and the little coin she had saved during her time with Lady Patrice.
She did not dare say her farewells. She chose not to let the brief illusion of happiness she had enjoyed shatter more than it already had.