I breath deeply, doing my best to keep the annoyance out of my voice. It will do no good to become angry. "My dear lady, I have read through this will at least one hundred times upon your request. There is no other way around it. There is no place for misinterpretation, or realignment of assets, or further change. I cannot change it. You cannot change it. Only the girl can."
"Surely my dear, late husband never forsaw that his child would lose her mind," she simpers at me. "If he had, he would never have named her sole heir. You must allow for circumstances. She is unfit to understand the needs of a household. Please," her long nails rake down my neck in what she must assume is a flirtatious move, "we are left practically desolate. This small allowance cannot possibly meet the needs of four grown women. How can I possibly see any of my dear girls wed properly when we have nothing?"
Her pouted lips achieve the effect her nails could not, but I became immune to this Siren many months ago. A man can only be flirted with and ignored so many times before he sees vixen for the vulture she is. I know this pleasantly, soft woman will disappear the moment she gets what she wants and then out will come the haughty mistress of Eccles Estate.
"Madame, I am sure you have sufficient. If you are truly are upon death's doorstep, bring the lady Ella with you next time and I will see what I can do."
A flash of anger ruins the sweet mask for only a moment. Perhaps her situation is worse than I know. Her composure has never dissolved this quickly.
"The girl is insane," she says through teeth clenched into a smile. "Mute. Violent. She cannot leave the house."
I spread my hands wide on the table and respond with equally fake good humor, "then perhaps let me come to her. She will do better in her own home than in a stranger's domain. And that would allow me to see just how great your needs are. I cannot convince the lady to increase your allowance unless I speak with her, and I cannot recommend any amount without full knowledge of the situation. The short glimpses of her from your gate cannot help me in the way you need."
I have caught her yet again, I do not know why she refuses any admittance to her home, nor do I care. Were her situation as destitute as she describes, she would allow some provision.
As expected, she refuses me.
"Well then, Madame, I see no point in continuing this discussion at this time. For now our positions remain the same as ever. I cannot help you until I speak with Ella." I ring the bell for Matthew and she rises in anger. "No, Madame," I cut her off before she has a chance to unleash her raging torrent, "I will not change my mind. If you wish to speak to me again, I will bring your allowance to your gate on the first as always."
She leaves without another word and I sink back into my chair with a heavy sigh.
I mourn, again, the loss of my friend. I do not blame him for marrying this two-faced woman. She won us all over. She was all politeness and glittering praise. But he must have guessed her true form long before any of us. How it must have been for him, leaving his precious child with her as he journeyed. At least he had the foresight to protect his daughter in the event of his death.
The poor girl is mad. Driven insane by her father's death and her step-mother's guile. There is little I can do for her now, but so long as Ella lives I will continue to serve her as Sir Eccles instructed.
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