Waylen swallows the whiskey in a single gulp and pours himself another glass. She watches him drink it with an ache in her heart—it’s not the first time he’s turned to alcohol to deal with his broken heart. She hopes it won’t become a habit for him.
“Put her in the mistress room in the servant’s quarters,” Waylen says cooly. “And make it clear that she’s not Mrs. Bamford—call her by her first name, like you would any mistress or equal.”
Robert looks between Waylen and Leilani, and he raises his eyebrows at Leilani. Leilani shakes her head, and Robert sighs and leaves the room without a word. Soon a servant knocks at the door.
“Mr. Bamford, we’ve prepared the room,” the servant says. “Will Leilani move there now?”
Leilani looks at the servant, and the young man stares boldly back at her. Before, most of the servants were afraid to even look at her—especially in front of Waylen. But now this man stares at her like she’s lower than he is. She stares back at him, and he slowly looks away in shame.
“Of course she will,” Waylen says. “Do you think she deserves to be here? Every breath she takes only contaminates the air.”
Waylen’s words cut deep, and she can feel her eyes fill with tears. She follows the servant out of the room, trying to keep the tears from falling onto her cheeks. As she crosses the threshold, she glances over her shoulder to look at Waylen, but his back is still turned to her.
“Wait,” Waylen shouts.
Leilani’s heart hammers hopefully in her chest, and she turns around, ready to walk back into the room. Waylen pours himself another glass of whiskey and takes a long sip.
“Burn her clothes and give her a new wardrobe—something appropriate for a mistress,” he says.
Leilani stiffens and turns away. She crosses her arms over her stomach and slowly follows the servant out of the mansion. The man leads her on a long, cobblestone path toward the woods. She’s never been to the servants’ quarters before, but she knows the building is near the hut where Florence used to lock her up.
As they walk, tired servants join them, heading home to sleep after a long day of work in the mansion. Leilani feels a sharp shove, and she turns around. An old servant woman Leilani recognizes from Florence’s wing has shoved her in the back. It seems all of the servants know that she’s fallen out of favor with Waylen, and now they’re eager to take their revenge.
Leonie is watching TV with Florence and peeling gr.a.p.es. She slides her long fingernail under the purple skin and pulls it away from the juicy gr.a.p.e before passing the fruit to Florence. Suddenly, the door flies open, and Maureen runs into the room. Her ankle-length skirt is bunched up around her knees, and her thick, stocking covered legs look ridiculous. Maureen leans against the wall, panting for breath.
“What’s going on, Maureen?” Florence asks the servant.
“It’s a big deal,” Maureen says, shaking her head, so her jowls wobble.
“What’s the matter?” Florence asks. “What happened? You’re scaring me.”
“Leilani has been put in the mistress room,” Maureen says with a huge smile. “And Mr. Bamford said that we’re not allowed to call her Mrs. Bamford anymore.”
Leonie jumps to her feet and runs across the room to Maureen. She grabs the rough wool of the woman’s dress and looks up at her. Maureen’s hot, sour breath blows across Leonie’s face, and Leonie jumps away in disgust.
“Are you telling the truth?” Leonie asks.
“Yes, it’s true!” Maureen says. “All the servants are talking about it. Besides, I saw Leilani walking out to the servants’ quarters just now.”
“So she’s no longer his wife, but his mistress?” Leonie asks.
“Yes, those were Mr. Bamford’s orders,” Maureen says, smiling sourly. “It seems Mr. Bamford has finally recognized Leilani for what she really is. He also ordered the servants to burn her clothes and give her a new wardrobe suitable for a mistress.”
As Maureen speaks, her face lights up with joy. Leonie turns to Florence and sees that the old woman is wearing a similar expression. I can’t believe the video trick worked so well, Leonie thinks. If only I’d known how angry Waylen would get—I would have told Florence about it earlier. Oh well, what’s done is done, and Waylen will soon be mine.
“I want to see this for myself,” Leonie says, walking toward the door.
“You can’t go now,” Maureen says quickly. “Mr. Bamford has forbidden everyone from talking to her or even going near her room. If he finds out you were there, he’d be furious.”
Leonie looks at Florence, hoping the old woman will support her, but Florence slowly shakes her head. Leonie rushes to Florence’s side and takes her wrinkled hand, but Florence pulls her arm away. Slowly, she pats Leonie on the head.
“I know you’re eager, dear, but listen to Maureen,” Florence says. “Waylen is already very upset. You don’t want to make it worse, do you? Be a good girl and wait until Waylen has calmed down a little.”
Leonie sighs and pouts her lips, but she sits down on the sofa next to Florence. I’ve waited long enough, Leonie thinks. I guess I can wait a little longer. But I’m so sick of dealing with this old woman. I can’t wait to be Waylen’s wife, so I can finally do whatever I want.
Florence taps her knobby fingers on her knee and says, “Maureen, I want you to make sure that Leilani receives the very best care.”
“The best care?” Maureen asks, confused. “She’s never respected you, and she never deserved to be a part of this family.”
“That’s exactly why I want her taken care of,” Florence says with a sly and sinister smile.
Maureen smiles a huge mean smile, understanding Florence’s orders. She leaves the room, humming to herself. Leonie strokes her stomach, wondering how soon Waylen will ask her to marry him.
The mistress room is in the darkest wing of the oldest building on Bamford grounds.
Most of the building is for bodyguards and servants, but there are a few rooms for guests of lower status. Leilani walks down the dark hallway, fighting the urge to shiver.
Most of the servants have gone to bed, so the building is silent and dim. The hazy yellow glow of street lamps comes in through a window. The servant stops outside a plain wood door and slowly opens it. Leilani pauses in the doorway, but the servant impatiently pushes her into the room and shuts the door.
Leilani fumbles for the light switch and a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling flickers, something squeaks, and Leilani turns to see a mouse scurry across the floor and under her bed. She rolls her eyes—the Bamford’s are very particular about controlling all pests, and there are never any mice on the property—someone must have put the mouse in the room as a cruel joke.
She looks around the small room and sighs. The paint on the walls is dirty and chipped, and the room is a mess. The bed is unmade, and the mattress is stained. A broken chair lies on its side in the corner, and there’s a dark, sticky spot on the coffee table.
A messy pile of clothing sits on top of the bed. Leilani crosses the room and sorts through the clothing, wondering if it’s clean or not. Most of the clothes are lacy and skin tight. The fabrics are colorful and flashy, and there are plenty of sequins and glitter. Leilani grabs a top and holds it up to the light—it’s little more than a bra and completely see-through.
Her own clothes are sweaty and dirty. Slowly, she strips out of her clothes and puts on a short, tight dress. It’s more conservative than most of the outfits, but the neckline plunges all the way down to her belly button. She grabs a cropped shirt and layers it on top of the dress. She looks at herself in the dirty mirror and sighs.
I look like a p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.e, she thinks. A really cheap p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.e. Is this what Waylen likes? I always thought he had more refined tastes than other men, but it seems like he’s exactly like every other man. He only cares about seeing as much skin as possible.
She tugs the dress down to cover her thighs and wishes she had a pair of stockings or leggings. Then she begins to make the bed and tidy the room. She shoves the skimpy clothing into the wardrobe without bothering to hang it or sort it. Then she washes her face and brushes her teeth.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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