Chapter 6
1832words
"Ma'am, it's time to grace them with your presence" Mr. Moses's voice rang out, distracting her from her thoughts. He was the only one she discovered that knew Martha well.
"Moses, do you think these people love me?", she asked, keeping her eyes on him to note his body movement. With a poker face, he looked her in the eyes and said, "yes they do". He was good at keeping his expression neutral, but he was a cautious man; there was no way he believed that,
"Don't lie to me" she said, twirling the cup in her hands, "sit down Moses, and answer me truthfully". With reluctance, he sat and started "I have been with your parents before you were born, I have watched you grow up, from my experience, people are feeble, they come and go, they might not love you for you, but they are in love with the thought of you."
The man was still as wise, smiling she asked; "This is why I should give them a show, right? it would serve as a goodbye to them; a quiet life is all I seek to achieve". The butler's face held a slight frown but he knew better than to talk then.
"Mr. White is also here this evening ma'am, you might need to make an entrance soon". The memories she had of Martha's life came back, Mr. White was a financial investor she had made a major investment with, and the link to Ben the man who destroyed her. Smiling to herself she realized the night might just be more interesting than she thought. ‘I'll stay a while longer Moses, I am never late, they are just too early."
Two hours into the party had past and the guests were obviously tired of waiting, many heads tried looking up the staircase to see if they would get a glimpse of her. Smiling, she signaled to Moses to alert the orchestra to start playing the song she walked in with. With her head held high, back tucked in and a smile on her blood-red lips she waltzed in, if fashionably late was a person, she would be the perfect description. She could see everyone try to be the first to have a conversation with her, the photographers trying to get the best angles. Her eyes met Ben's, she smiled wickedly, this was going to be a long night.
"It has been three weeks since your accident, that is more than enough time to heal and rest". The hard face of Lady Winston stared at her. She was a plain-looking woman, aging so fast the makeup, clothes, and jewelry couldn't hide it. The look of hate and disgust on her face while addressing Martha was evident. This morning while she was walking into the tea room to meet the lady of the house, Michael's mother who nursed her back to health whom she had come to realize was also the head cook Mrs. Wiggins had pulled her aside and reassured her she would be present while she was being addressed. She kept to her promise and was silently slicing one loaf of bread just to buy time.
Sipping tea with her step-mother was Amelia, her supposed step-sister. She hated the fact that she wasn't as ugly as her mother. She was pale, blond with full chest threatening to spill from her bodice. Her posture firm and proper a clear indication of years of training. She had a sly smile on her lips "Mother should we still let her work under our roof? Clearly, she has been stripped of her dignity, I would kill my self if I were you, Mary. To have your dignity taken away from you like a dog by a filthy stranger, oh the sheer horror".
Martha noted the happiness underneath her statement, apparently, women's worth here was tied to their hymens. She met their cold stares with silence, refusing to speak, murderous thoughts running through her mind.
"Are you daft girl, or was your mouth defiled too?". The anger of being ignored pouring out from Lady Winston's voice, her hands tightened around her teacup.
"Philip is coming home in a week and you should have the house ready and spotless by then, I shall be hosting a party to welcome him back, prepare his room especially, and make sure the bathtub is scrubbed spotless". The commands came in uninterrupted sentences, the witch was good at given tasks, and who was Philip? her friend, son, or brother?. It didn't matter who he was ultimately, as long as he belonged to this family he was tainted with wickedness just like the rest.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the slap that buckled her knees and drew blood. Looking up to an angry face of the witch she smirked. Her silence had triggered something in the old hag.
"You will speak when you are spoken to you filthy slut, I give you shelter and food and you dare act ungrateful I would rather kill you than have you disrespect me".
Mrs. Wiggins rushed to Martha's side rambling about how she was traumatized and hadn't spoken for weeks, pleading for time for her to adjust. Martha looked back as she was led out of the room, giving them a small smile, she basked in the anger it gave them thinking, should I destroy this family? Reduce them to nothing?
Martha hated the life she was living, the girl who owned this body was a fool, who would subject themselves to this? Now she was stuck here paying the price of her stupidity. Never in her past life had anyone bullied her, she was the one to be feared. Even the name ‘Mary' sounded pathetic, she was still getting used to it. Gritting her teeth she focused on scrubbing the floor before proceeding to then waxing. She couldn't count how many times she wanted to suffocate those whores with the bucket of wax.
"Mary!", turning her head she saw another servant whose name she didn't care to remember beckoning to her "Amelia needs you".
Great, today it was the serpent's daughter who wanted her hopefully, it would be to get her tea so she could poison her. Walking as slowly as she could, she finally got to her room, scanning her environment she saw Amelia poised in front of her dressing mirror, brush in hand.
"You called for me," she said in a low voice. Amelia turned to face her.
"Well, you took all the time in the world but finally appeared. I wonder what happened to you in the south portion of the woods? Anyway, brush my hair" she commanded holding out the hairbrush to Martha.
If she had the means to live on her own, she would have gladly yanked this brat's hair off, the urge to do something crazy was growing stronger each day, how did she know the exact part of the woods where she was attacked? Perhaps the cook told her. Martha got to work as Amelia settled comfortably on the seat in front of the mirror a satisfied look on her face. Most days Mary wanted to slit their throats slowly just to see them in pain before they died, anger from what had been done to her in her past life as Martha still boiled in her.
"Did you really lose your virtue or were already a whore like your mother?", Amelia's smug smile and words cut her thoughts. Martha's eyes met hers through the mirror for what seemed like an eternity. Tangling her hair on the comb she dragged it so hard the comb came out with a snap.
Before she could celebrate her little victory Amelia swung her hands landed successive slaps on her face, something wet tickled at the corner of Mary's lips tasting her blood she smiled.
"Oops, that was so unladylike of me but I guess you can understand that just as the broken comb was an accident those slaps also were" Amelia muttered with vengeance on her face. Sitting down, she handed her another comb "Continue and I hope you do make another mistake with this one" the warning was a clear one.
Walking out of the main house to pick her shawl for the errand Amelia had sent her on, a long list filled with impossible items to find in hand.
Michael ran up to her, the boy still with a smile on his face like the day she first saw him, "Mary, I have been waiting for you, father and I are making these signs so we could communicate with you". Ignoring him she strode past, as expected, his little footsteps followed, "You are so different now Mary, you no longer smile, I know you still like me though, mama says you are just in a lot of pain".
She shook her head, only this family had been kind to her since she woke up. Walking into the house, the smell of hot food welcomed her, "Come, eat first child before you go to the market" Mrs. Wiggins said taking her hands. The food was little but good, the woman was an excellent cook, she deserved a larger pay. Finishing her food, she gave a slight nod as a sign of gratitude for the meal and walked out.
Wrapping her shawl around her she was reminded of how cold it was even in the afternoons. Signaling to the carriage she hoped to get a ride to the market, It was not a surprise when the driver reminded her of how servants like her were meant to walk. With a tired sigh, she started on her journey one step at a time. On getting to the market, the treatment was even worse, peasant with more miserable lives refused to sell goods to her. Martha thought the point of being in a market was trading but she realized that people rather let their hate rule them than survival instincts. Finally, she found one store that would sell to her on the condition that she paid before touching goods, at least she was done with it.
"Where are you going without paying for those goods!?" An elderly fat woman yelled. It couldn't be her she was speaking to Martha thought, she had paid for the goods first. Before she could step out of the store, a brick came crashing on her head, "Thief! I asked where you are going without paying for goods!?".
