brandbury hall; part 2
Arianna
A little over a year ago, my family died when our house in Shrewsbury, England caught fire. My little brother and I were in Shropshire visiting our aunt and uncle for summer break. We were there less than a week. They don’t know what happened. Perhaps Mother forgot to put out the stove. Or perhaps one of my little sisters didn’t fully extinguish the fireplace. Maybe Papa dropped his pipe when he fell asleep reading again. Whichever scenario took place, it was a very dry summer, and the fire spread ferociously. No one made it. Papa, Maria, Louise, Jacob, even Mother with her baby only a month away. Everyone was gone.
Lucas and I stayed only to attend the funeral. We then picked up the money that Papa had in the bank and moved it and ourselves to Shropshire permanently. Uncle Henry and Aunt Suzanna loved having us. They’re only child, Henry Jr., was away at college, so they enjoyed the permanent company. We took Junior’s room while he was schooling, and we continued our own schooling through Aunt Suzy. She picked up right where Mother left off, but it made Lucas and me ache for our old life. We would lay in bed at night and talk about how we never should have left, never should have begged Papa and Mother, never should have promised them we would see them soon. We cried a lot, but only at night. We never allowed ourselves to cry in front of Uncle Henry and Aunt Suzy. Aunt Suzy was missing Papa enough. They were just as thick as Lucas and I were, when they were our age. We had to be strong so Aunt Suzy could be strong. And we were.
We both thought an awful lot about everybody: Maria’s inquisitive nature, Louise’s curly black hair, Jacob’s smile, Papa’s stories, Mother’s elegant way of walking and talking and acting. I never told Lucas, but I often wished that we had died with them, so we would be in heaven with them all and Jesus. When I would be cleaning the windows, I would gaze wistfully out across the fields, the fields that reminded me so much of Papa’s, and follow my eyes down to the ground directly below. I never seriously thought of jumping, but the thought crossed my mind once. I never would have done it. Think what it would do to poor Lucas. I would never do that to Lucas. From then on, I had Lucas and I promise to each other that we wouldn’t hide anything from the other and we would never think our lives forfeit. We had to live for the rest of them. We had to live for little Margaret or John who never saw the light of day.
I turned seventeen that October. Thirteen days later, Lucas was diagnosed with pneumonia. He died a week later. To tell the truth, I knew he didn’t want to get better, knew he could have gotten better if he had the will to. It was probably best that he was the one to go. If either of us would have had to be left in this world alone, I was the one that could handle it. Eventually. I mourned him, possibly even more than my entire family. He was my best friend, my brother, my sisters, my mother and father, my life. I looked out the windows a lot. One day, Aunt Suzy caught me leaning on one in order to see the ground. I was just looking, I tried to persuade her. Honest. But I knew in my heart that that moment was the one time I seriously thought about jumping. It would have been too easy to slid open that window and meet the ground with open arms. Meet my family in heaven with open, longing arms. When that happened, my aunt and uncle figured it best for my health to get out of the country. Move to the city when the hustle and bustle of city life would distract me. Perhaps I would find a nice young man to settle down with and start a life of my own. I needed to let go of the past, they said, and live my life. Yes, I had an obligation to my family. I had to live the lives that they couldn’t. I had to live the life that Lucas threw away so easily. I promised myself that I would never think of doing such a thing again. I would live my life. I would be curious, I would be inquisitive, I would open closed doors, I would fall in love, I would have a family, and I would die sleeping in my own bed lying next to my husband.
Jeremy
“I want everything absolutely spit spot, on-the-dot clean. Not a thing out of place, do you hear me? Have the curtains washed and ironed, the fireplaces shining, fresh sheets on every bed. Every one, mind you. Even clean the servants’ quarters. There should not be a flick or flake of dust or dirt or grime or what-have-you anywhere in this house when you are finished. Am I clear?”
“Certainly, mum.”
“It should all be ready within the week for our guest’s arrival. Is that time enough?”
“Plenty, mum.”
“Good. It’ll have to be. You are excused.”
“Thank you, mum.”
I watched this display with laughter in my heart. The woman wanted the place spotless. Of course, with our special guest on the way. But when was it not spotless? Must be a stress release. Poor woman must have heard the news of our picky guest as well.
For the past month, I’d heard a-plenty my fill of talk about this stranger from across the Atlantic. Apparently, the poor kid lost her entire family in some freak accident burning their house, land, and fortune to the ground. Very little was left, I’d heard. I also heard that she had been living with her aunt and uncle and couldn’t take the common way of living. Too high and mighty for that, are you, Miss Brown? So you have to come here, a distant friend from some distant past somewhere, where you can live like the royals of your country? To the same America that your country fought so hard to keep hold of. What a snoot.
Arianna Brown. I didn’t like the name. Too nasally. Too awkward to say. Maybe I could shorten it into an annoying nickname that she’ll hate and grow red with fury every time I say it. Yessir, if I had to deal with this princess until next fall when I went to college, I would certainly make a fun time of it.
“Jeremy!” sang my name from the direction of the dining room. I departed the steps and headed back the hallway, passed the parlor, passed the reading room, passed the billiard parlor, and finally into the dining room, where I finally found my great aunt now instructing a servant on how exactly she wanted the curtains to be washed.
“No, no, brush with the fabric. Not against it. It shall become ragged and filthy and unsuitable if you do it like that. Ah, Jeremy!” She left the young servant girl there in her confusion and work to take my offered arm.
“You called for me, Madame.”
“Yes, my child. Come this way,” she instructed. She led me up the stairs once and then a second time, up to the third floor where her bedroom resided. Turn left at the top of the staircase, and into a beautifully decorated room that took a fourth of the third floor. The drapes of her bed were closed tightly and neatly, but I knew the bedspread would be perfect and in line. The drapes on her windows were all opened symmetrically, each drape being pulled back to a hands width wide. Everything was in its place. Not a speck of dust or a whiff of dirt. She left my arm to sit at her vanity, and finally relieved herself of her position of queen of the household.
I was probably the only one that ever saw her like this. She wasn’t her usual high strung, demanding self who had no emotion. She was tired and dying, but she dared not let the rest of the household see that. She had to be strong. She knew her family business of corn and other produce was failing. Her wealth would soon be dried up. The line of Swanson farmers was soon to an end. But she had to be strong. She had to be strong so the rest of the household could be strong. I was the only one that ever saw her suffer, saw her exhaustion, saw her fall apart.
I waited patiently for her to speak. I never pushed, never prodded. Just listened.
“Jeremy,” she sighed as she stared at herself in the mirror, “Jeremy. I’m old. Look at me. Sixty-three on Thursday. Sixty-three! I remember when it was twenty-three. Oh, I was in my prime then. We were just starting to blossom, our business, and I would be courted by the most handsome young gentlemen. Ah, that was a wonderful couple of years. Forty years ago.” She giggled almost, as if remembering some of those nights and men all those years ago, but she surprised me when she brought up the next subject: “Oh, goodness. You weren’t even thought to be born yet. I don’t even think your parents were alive then. Well. Perhaps. Goodness me, how old would they be now? Well. Doesn’t matter, does it? No. Not at all. Jeremy, this young lady that will be staying with us . . . She’ll be quite delicate. She’s gone through far too much at such a young age. Well, so have you, but . . . that just means that you two will have something in common. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? That two very different people from different backgrounds and cultures and countries can have something in common? I’m sure you two will get along. Who knows? You might even like her. I’m sure she’s quite the darling, the little sweetheart. I’m sure . . . but you mustn’t interrogate her about it, my dear, think of how you would feel. Of course, you know how you would feel. But no matter. She’ll be very delicate, very emotional, probably, too. We’ll have to watch what we say to her, understand? Of course, you do, dear boy.”
Her eyes tore from the mirror to me. There was a fire in her eyes I couldn’t place, an emotion behind her words I couldn’t decipher. Dread. Doubt. Was it . . . fear? “You’re such the gentleman, you really are, Jeremy. And I’m so proud of the man you’ve become.”
I bowed to show her my appreciation of the compliment, and when I raised my head again, she was up and back to her stern self.
“Now. When Miss Brown arrives, I expect you to tell her the rules of the house. It is your responsibility that she follows these rules and knows the seriousness of breaking them. Are we understood?”
“Perfectly, Madame.”
For one moment, I could have sworn she was about to smile. It was so close to a smile, that I decided I would take it as such and treasure this rare occasion.
“Wonderful. Now give your Auntie Bertha a kiss.”
She embraced me, and we exchanged the custom greeting she had picked up in France. I was then excused to ponder, dread, and otherwise wait for the coming of our infamous Miss Brown.
Arianna
I must admit, I wasn’t looking forward to leaving England behind. Sweet, beautiful England. Where I’d always been, always dreamt I’d be. I especially didn’t have any high spirits about being shipped off to America, that country who so recently escaped our grasp. So pompous, so proud that they left their mother, that they flew the coup and started their own nest. Arrogant little snoots.
It was a tearful goodbye with which I left my aunt and uncle. My aunt gave me a few things, a dowry in technicality, which she would have given her daughter, had they had one. My uncle also gave me a small purse with an allowance of a larger sum than he should have given me. These precious gifts made the parting even more bitter. They had been my parents for a time, and now I was leaving them too. Everyone I loved, I was being taken away from. The Lord must have a plan, and I simply can’t see it. Lord, give me patience.
The ocean, I greatly enjoyed. I’d always loved the water. The calmness of the sky, the gentle rocking of the waves. When I closed my eyes with my face to the wind, the tingle of mist tickling my face, the scent of salt saturating my tongue and nose: it felt like heaven. I wonder if I’ll live near the sea. I would rent a boat and go out every day of the summer. It would be gorgeous in the summer. Now, winter’s chill clung like a baby to a breast, eager for its fill. Winter was eager to freeze and ice the waters and the inhabitants of this boat. Yet in the cold, I still felt nearer my family than ever I did on land. Yes, I love water very much.
I hadn’t heard much of where I was heading. It was a very old family friend, someone my grandfather knew in his years in France. She owned a bit of land in northern New York, and I was to be her ward. I didn’t know if she was to do my schooling, I would be put off to a boarding school, or I would stay at home and do the chores. I tried to imagine each scenario in order to prepare myself for the coming months, but I’d learned my lesson: you can have no way of knowing God’s plan for you. Yes, yes. I would expect God’s will and follow through to be the best at what I was put at. I would not be a burden or a mope. I would work hard, obey selflessly, and expect nothing in return.
Jeremy
I was reading in the library when I heard the commotion downstairs. At first thought, I figured Emmanuel or Sean were at the other’s throat again, and I tore down the stairs to break up the fight. When I hit the bottom step, I saw the chaos of the household. Servants scrambled everywhere, dusting hats, removing aprons, pinning up hair, and aligning inside the entrance foyer and outside the front doors. A sudden hush fell over the crowd as the sound of a carriage pulled up to the welcoming party outside. I scanned the room for Madame. She must have gone outside to greet Miss Brown, then, as hostess, lead her inside. My quick distraction was brought to an end at the sound of muted voices just outside the door. Closer, closer. The door cracked open and in flowed Madame being followed by a petite girl in common clothing. How very unextraordinary.
Every mental image I had made of this girl was completely wrong. She wasn’t dressed extravagantly, wasn’t drenched in make-ups and other beauty products, wasn’t stunning in any way. Simply . . . simple. I liked it. Perhaps she wasn’t going to be as snooty as I’d imagined.
“As I said, it’s wonderful to have you ahead of schedule, Miss Brown. I trust you had no troubles on your journey? Good. Now. I won’t bother introducing you to everyone. As you can see, we have quite the large staff here at Brandbury Hall. If you desire, you may ask them their names and use it as you deem appropriate, but know that each has their own purpose here and that they are here to serve you, if you need it. If you would like a grand tour of the household, I’m sure that can be arranged. Or if you prefer to settle into your quarters, I can have someone escort you. Ah, Jeremy!”
I immediately responded to my name and parted the sea of people to present myself to the young lady and Madame. As Madame introduced me, I bowed, took Madame’s hand, and kissed it. “Miss Brown, this is my other ward that I have looked after for a good many years. Jeremy Brand. He’s enrolled at Bensen, to start next fall.”
Without hesitating, I took her hand as well and kissed it. “Miss Brown.” When I rose and looked her in the eye for the first time, I was moved. Moved to see that for all that she had gone through, as Madame had said, there was no emotion in her face. Her eyes were blank and grey, staring at me somewhat curiously, like the eyes of a scientist observing her experiment with extreme concentration. No movement it seemed was made without the most detailed thought. How strange.
“What would you prefer, Miss Brown?” Madame interrupted our secret exchange.
Miss Brown broke eye contact with me to glance up at Madame. I practically heard the wheels turning in her machine of a brain. Did she even remember what was offered to her?
“Perhaps, Madame,” I spoke, answering for her, “the young lady would like to rest after her long voyage. Would the lady wish me to escort her to her chambers?” I addressed her and her alone. I received a simple nod as an answer.
“Wonderful,” announced Madame, and as I offered my hand to Miss Brown, Madame ordered the fellows who had brought in the luggage to follow us and dismissed everyone.
I decided some chit chat would probably bring her back to your senses and surroundings, also it passed the awkward silence off as comfortable. Or at least a little less silent.
“How was your journey? All the way from England. That was quite the trip. Did your sea legs get the best of you?”
“No,” she answered indignantly. So much, in fact, that I threw an inquisitive and surprised look at her. “I rather enjoy the water.”
“Ah,” I conjectured, reeling for conversation. “So did you go boating in England, that you are fond of water?”
“No. That was the first time I’d ever been on the water.”
“Uh-huh. Well, it must have been quite cold, especially there in the northern waters—“
“Actually, the chill was extremely invigorating. Like waking from a dream.”
“Yes,” I stuttered, unable to carry the conversation any longer. What a strange child. “I can imagine so.”
Luckily, we arrived at her room on the second floor in quick enough time. Honestly, I was glad to be rid of her. Perhaps she’ll be just as good of company as I first judged her.
“If you require anything else, Miss, please feel free to seek one of the servants. They’ll be more than happy to oblige. Supper is served at six, then we like to retire to the parlour for a bit of drink and conversation. If you like, I can give you a tour of the household. I’m home on holiday, so I’m free at any time. You can usually find me in the library. If not, one of the servants will be willing to show you around.”
She never looked at me once. The moment she entered the room, she released my arm and walked straight to the nearest window. She stood and stared as I talked. I felt like such a fool.
“Is there anything else you require, Miss?”
I didn’t expect her to answer, but she turned her head slightly to the left in order to address me, “No. Thank you, Mister Brand.” She hesitated then turned back to her window.
For some reason unbeknownst to be, I smiled. The way she said “Brand” was amusing to me, with a long “ah” and a “t” in place of the “d.” She sounded high class English. That part I’d imagined was true.
I bowed though she didn’t see me and closed the doors to her quarters. Enrique, a young footman-in-training, who had brought up her bags, stood beside me. I glanced down at him and messed his black mop of hair. He smiled and scooted away playfully. As we headed back downstairs, he said, “She’s very strange, Senor Jeremy.”
“Yes,” I agreed, grinning at the youth’s innocence.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s very far from home, in a very new country. She’s probably a little scared. Wouldn’t you be scared, so far from your mama and papa?”
“Si.” He seemed to ponder over this deeply. Not wanting to worry him with things far beyond his years, I shooed him along and reminded him not to get into any mischief. So young . . . No one that young should have to endure such grief. My thoughts and gaze turned to the young woman upstairs, and I realized how absolutely normal she acting for her situation. I would judge her no more.
