With no small effort on her part, Victoria managed to wrestle Lady Elmira’s confectionary monstrosity from her body. It took a combination of strength and scissors. Philhomena had stitched the blasted thing together around the back. All well and good if she actually knew how to use her needle and thread properly. She did not.

Once that was done, she helped her mistress into her nightgown and tucked her into bed to while away their remaining evening hours together. Lady Elmira wished to stay up later than she should, and once more Victoria acquiesced against her better judgment.

“Victoria,” Lady Elmira called her name as the lady’s maid took her place in the chair by the window, adjusting the mountain of pillows behind her just so.

“Yes, my lady?” She replied, supposing she wanted more barley water, or perhaps read from one of her favorite novels. She was only partially right.

“Fetch the letter on my writing desk. I should like you to read it to me,” Lady Elmira gestured towards the small table to the far left of her room which was rarely visited. She only corresponded with one person. Her brother.

“Haven’t you already read it yourself?” Victoria asked, dubiously. This felt like an invasion of privacy. At least on the part of Lady Elmira’s unwitting sibling.

Lady Elmira smiled, and gave a tiny nod. “Yes, I have, but I have questions I thought you could answer for me. It’s easier if you know the whole of the piece, you understand?”

Standing, Victoria walked over to the writing desk to snatch up the waiting letter. It was stuffed into the envelope, crumbles of the broken seal crumpled over the desk itself. She would clean that up before she retired for the evening.

“I am afraid I do not, but if my lady wishes then I shall read it for you.” She removed the letter and left the envelope on the desk, walking back to her seat by the window and sitting down.

“My dearest sister,” Victoria began to read aloud, eyes scanning over the letter in her hands, “come December, I shall visit for a spell. Do you recall Edmund? Lord Belgrave, the trying fellow you are so fond of.”

She lowered the paper to her lap, already uncertain about continuing.

“Do go on, Victoria,” Lady Elmira urged, flapping a hand at her impatiently. The evening hours had passed quickly.

Victoria was tempted to sigh, but raised the letter to continue reading, “you wrote so many poems to me about him when you were younger. I wish you to know that they are still a secret between us. However much he may beg to know you better, he shant know of your affections until you wish it made known.”

Somehow the more she read, the more Victoria felt there was an ulterior motive to this request to read to her, and wanted to say as much.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“My lady, you wrote poems about a man you hardly know to your brother?” Victoria asked, astonished. She’d never even known her mistress had such affections for anyone.

Lady Elmira shook her head, laughing. “He was shamelessly exaggerating. I wrote a remark that the man had nice eyes. Once. In passing.” She waved her hand once again, even more impatient, “go on! Read the rest! You have such a lovely voice.”

Victoria gave her mistress a patient, but tired smile. “May lady, this feels rather intrusive. Why would you want me to know what your brother writes to you?”

“Please.” Lady Elmira urged. Then she made her familiar pouting expression. There was no denying her.

Feeling thoroughly emotionally blackmailed, Victoria continued reading, “should this winter season bring me the delight of a new brother and a wedded sister, I shall celebrate forthwith. That is to say, Edmund will be joining me on my visit. Father will have received a letter as well telling him as much. Lastly, how is Victoria doing? Does she still hum when she dusts? Inform Grady I should like the whole house dusted when I visit. Yours, forever and always, the perfect devoted brother who would sacrifice the world to see you happy, Lord Richard Sommer.”

Embarrassed, exhausted, and relieved to be done with the letter, Victoria placed it upon the small side table by the window. She didn’t miss the expectant stare from her mistress. It was theatrical in its intensity.

She stood up and smoothed out the front of her skirt as best she could, making it a point to focus her gaze on her feet. This was the challenge of balancing the precarious line between being a friend and a servant. Honesty had its limits. Patience, too, had its limits.

“My lady, any questions you may have about this letter escape me,” she began, “and I think it is best for us both to retire. We can discuss this tomorrow morning.”

Lady Elmira leaned forward, opening her mouth to protest. Victoria held up a hand to stop her.

“Elmira,” she said her name without her title, the line between them sharpening and thinning with that one dangerous gesture, “you know that asking me to read that letter was wrong. I should say, commanding I do so, even. I care for you and your family. Truly. You will never know the difference between us. Affections between your brother and a lady are romantic. I am not a lady. I am a maid. I am beneath you.” Tears stung at her eyes as she spoke. Her chest tightened, pain coiling as she struggled to keep her breaths even. Calm. Collected. She strode towards the door. Her face was turned just so that Lady Elmira could not see it.

“Vickey–”

“My lady,” Victoria whispered. Her voice cracked, betraying her pain. She left the room, knowing the candles would have to burn themselves out. Lady Elmira would not be able to reach the sconces.

It felt like an empty gesture. Something that would be dismissed tomorrow with a hint of irritation on the part of her mistress. Yet what more could she do? Bursting into tears right in front of Lady Elmira would do neither of them any good. Once she closed the door, Victoria pressed her forehead against the wood to steady herself. She counted her breaths. She focused on holding back everything. Calming herself. Letting it go. So much easier said than done.

Seconds crawled. Minutes followed, even slower. When the burn behind her eyes and the hammering of her heart in her chest stilled enough for her to feel like she could walk away, Victoria turned around. She was not alone.

“Lord Grace!” Victoria exclaimed, nearly shouted in surprise. Her cheeks flushed. How much had he seen?