Mother made sure everyone in the house was served according to their place in the silent hierarchy she ruled with an iron will wrapped in silk. The trays said it all, gold for her and Father when he was alive, and silver for the rest of us. It never used to bother me. At least, not enough to question it. But today, as I stared down at the silver tray laid before me, something about it made my skin crawl. There were two sippy cups nestled side by side and the same embroidered napkin Nanny Chopper always brought at noon.
But she didn't bring it today.
Why didn't she bring it?
Why did Mother insist on doing it herself?
With my locket hidden beneath the pillow, I struggled to keep my breathing steady. She had seen me. Or at least, part of it. How long had she been standing there, watching? My mind raced, heart thudding in my chest.
"How long have you been here, Mother?" I asked, forcing casualness into my voice, like I was only bothered by her invasion of my privacy and nothing more.
Nanny Chopper picked up the tension like a change in the wind and bolted from the room without a word. The door slammed behind her, louder than it needed to be.
"Oh, Mel," Mother said softly, her tone honeyed with false concern. She placed the tray on my desk and made herself comfortable at the foot of my bed, the folds of her embroidered gown flowing like smoke across the velvet sheets. "You've been acting so withdrawn lately. I know you miss your father."
Her hand reached for mine and I let her take it, though it made my skin prickle. She brushed her fingers through my hair the way she used to when I was small and naïve enough to believe every word that left her mouth.
"I just want you to know I'm here," she added, her eyes locking onto mine. "Whenever you need to talk."
A chill crept down my spine.
"Okay, Mother. I'll keep that in mind," I said, desperate to end the conversation.
I shifted awkwardly, elbows tucked tightly under me, legs twisted in the least natural way possible to shield the locket behind my back. One wrong movement and she'd see it. And if she saw it, questions would follow. Questions I wasn't prepared to answer.
She perched like a queen on her throne, her massive ball gown leaving a visible dent in my mattress—half a circle etched in velvet. Then came her real reason for being here.
"Oh, lest I forget," she said, adjusting a curl that had fallen loose from her chignon. "I asked Mr. Darcy where you went today."
My stomach dropped.
"He did?" I said, trying to hide the rising panic in my voice. Mr. Darcy wouldn't betray me… would he?
"Would you mind telling me which part of Maisville gave you the fresh air you so desired?"
The way she tilted her head, like a cat playing with its prey, sent warning bells ringing in my mind. I couldn't falter. If I said the wrong place and Mr. Darcy had said something else… it would all unravel.
"No specific place, Mother. I just needed to get away from the estate. Walk, breathe. That's all."
Her silence stretched between us like a rope pulled tight.
For a moment, she didn't blink. Just studied me, her lips parted ever so slightly, as though waiting to catch me in a lie. Then, slowly, she smiled. It didn't reach her eyes.
"Well," she said at last. "As long as you're feeling better."
Her gaze drifted briefly over my body. I knew she was still trying to figure out what was different. Why I seemed calmer. What had shifted in me. I kept my face smooth and unreadable, though my pulse thundered in my ears.
She reached for one of the sippy cups and handed it to me. I took it with trembling fingers and sipped, grateful for the distraction. She picked up the other and took a polite sip herself, never breaking eye contact.
"Nanny Chopper says you haven't been eating well."
"I've just been tired."
"I see," she said, but I knew she didn't.
The silence returned, this time heavier. I wanted her gone. I needed her to leave so I could breathe again.
"Mother, if you don't mind, I'd like to rest. The walk took more out of me than I expected."
For a moment, I thought she would resist. But then she stood, smoothing her skirt and placing the cup neatly back on the tray.
"Of course," she said sweetly. "Rest, my dear. I'll send Nanny Chopper to check on you in a while."
With that, she turned and walked to the door. She didn't slam it like Nanny Chopper, but the quiet click as it closed behind her felt far more ominous.
I waited a full minute before I moved.
Slowly, I sat up, pulled the locket from beneath my pillow, and stared at it. The weight of it in my palm felt heavier than before, like it had absorbed some of my fear. I traced my thumb over its surface, the outline of the photographs burned into my memory.
Me and Charles. As children. Before everything changed.
I pressed it to my chest and let out a shaky breath.
I didn't know what the locket truly meant or what it was awakening in me, but I knew it was important. I also knew I had to keep it hidden, not just from Mother, but from Mr. Darcy too.
Was he really loyal to her? Or loyal to someone else?
A knock at the door broke my thoughts.
I froze.
"It's me, Miss Melody," came the familiar voice of Nanny Chopper.
I unlocked the door and let her in, relief flooding through me at the sight of her worn face and kind eyes.
She placed a fresh set of linens on my chair and looked around nervously before whispering, "What did she want?"
"To talk," I said vaguely. "To check in."
Nanny Chopper didn't look convinced. Her eyes landed briefly on the tray and then on the bed where Mother had sat. Her jaw tightened.
"You be careful," she murmured. "She's not as harmless as she pretends."
I nodded. "I know."
She turned to leave, but paused at the door. "That thing you were holding… the locket. Be careful with it too."
Before I could ask her what she meant, she was gone.
Nanny chopper definitely knows something she's not telling me.
I stood there in the dim light of my room, the locket still in my hand, the questions stacking up inside me like books on a shelf I couldn't reach. There were too many secrets in this house. And now, I was part of them.
But not for long.