Standing on the threshold of the house with water seeping into my clothes, I didn't want to look up. I stood there, letting the water drip off my dress and bonnet, forming a puddle on the steps. It was as though I had taken another swim in the river, only this time it wasn't because I didn't have any other option, and it wasn't my fault. The water soaked into my dress, causing the fabric to cling to my body. Every time a cold breeze went by, small goosebumps formed on my arm and a shiver ran down my spine. After getting soaked through twice in the space of a few days, it would be a miracle if I didn't end up unwell.

"Now I see why you were keeping her in the basement, Albert. I wouldn't want anyone to see one of my servants if they had such a grotesque looking mark," a voice beside me said. I still didn't look up. There was something about avoiding eye contact that made the situation a little better.

"Actually Gregory, we thought it best for Rosie to stay away from the party for her own sake. She's only been with us a few days and we didn't want to overwhelm her so soon," Doctor Ealing said.

"Hm, of course. Are you sure there isn't something wrong with her? Other than her arm, that is."

"I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Gregory."

"Well, are you sure she is all there? I just poured a bucket of cold water on her head and she didn't even make a sound, she's just standing there. I knew you needed a new servant, but you are really scraping the bottom of the barrel with this one."

"I'll thank you to not insult my workers at my own house, Gregory," Doctor Ealing said, his voice lower than I had ever heard it.

"I think it's time we all went inside, this is supposed to be Matilda's birthday party, not a chance for you two to cause a scene in front of our guests."

"Elizabeth's right. Miss Jenkins, I'll leave you to deal with Rosie."

Knowing I was standing directly in the threshold, I took a rather large step to the side, giving the guests to the party access back into the house. I kept my eyes to the ground as everyone shuffled past me, people stepping over the puddle of water on the step. Even though I never looked up, I felt their eyes on me, the way they stared at my soaked through dress or the burn on my arm. Strangers are always the ones who judge the harshest because they don't have the facts.

When everyone had passed and re-entered the house, I glanced up from the steps expecting to see Miss Jenkins standing alone before. Whilst Miss Jenkins was there, standing off to the side with a concerned look on her face, Robert had also hung back. He stood on the grass in front of the house looking at me, small droplets of water apparently soaking into his shirt. He had been splashed by the incident, though I'm pretty sure he had walked away before the water had been poured.

Neither Miss Jenkins nor Robert said a word as we stood in the darkness, a candle occasionally flickering above our heads. A cold breeze wiped around us and I wanted nothing more than to get out of the dress and sit in front of the brazier, but that didn't look like it was going to happen any time soon. Small goosebumps had formed up my arms and my hair had started to unravel itself from the tight knot it had been in all day. Small, wet tendrils snaked down my back, clinging to the back of my neck and dampening my dress even more if that was even possible.

"I might have to stay away from any form of water for a little while, this is getting a little ridiculous," I said, trying to make light of the situation.

"If I had known he was going to do that, I wouldn't have let you come out here. I knew Mr Warrington was up to something, but not this," Robert said.

"Who is he, anyway?"

"A friend of my father's. His son, Alexander, is to be Matilda's sweetheart though I'm not sure she'll want to be now. Even Matilda has a line."

"We should get you inside, it's freezing out here," Miss Jenkins said, taking a step towards me.

"I think I can manage on my own. You should get back to the party before they miss you. Both of you."

"If you're sure," Miss Jenkins said, furrowing her eyebrows together.

"I'm sure. It's probably best I enter through the kitchen anyway, to stop the flooring getting too damp in the house. I'm sure both Matilda and Mr Warrington would have something to say about that." Neither of them moved. "Go, I'll be fine. It's only a little bit of water."

Both Robert and Miss Jenkins gave a small glance in my direction before heading into the house, stepping over the small puddle of water just like everybody else. As they went inside, the door closing softly behind them, I stayed out on the porch. Despite the cold, I didn't see the point in heading back inside if I was just going to sit in front of the brazier doing nothing when I could do the same thing outside.

I travelled down the front steps and stood on the grass, glancing up at the sky above. The sky was dotted with small, bright stars with the moon at centre stage, lighting up the sky so much it was almost blinding. It lit up the darkness more than a candle ever could. I couldn't take my eyes off the sky, watching the stars dance before my eyes was mesmerising. It almost made me forget why I was standing in a soaking wet dress in the first place. Almost.

As I stood on the grass, I heard a twig snapping in the distance, the sound of footsteps crossing the grass and coming to a stop just short of where I was stood. Looking down the sky, I glanced across the dark plane, trying to track down the source of the sound and just who was skulking around the outside the house, completely undetected. The sound of the leaves rustling and twigs snapping were the only noises I needed to know that whoever was watching me, was on the move. Standing in the darkness, I decided it was best to find out who it was rather than waiting for them to do something.

"I know you're there," I said, drawing my arms across my chest. Small goosebumps formed on my arms, sending a shiver down my spine.

"My intention was not to sneak up on you, Miss. I thought you might like to warm up in my shack, we could have tea," Samuel said, his face just coming into view through the moonlight.

"Would I not be interfering on your plans this evening?"

"I have no plans. We are both alone tonight, so I thought we might spend it together."

"Yes, alright."

Samuel gestured to me with one hand and led me around the side of the house and towards the horse stables. In my short time at the Ealing household, I had never gone anywhere near the stables, having had no need for it. In fact, other than following Zachariah into the woods and towards the stream, I had spent very little time outside and exploring the grounds. Even if it was under the watchful eye of the night. It was like my own little adventure, a new look at the life I was starting to grow used to.

I followed Samuel past the vegetable patch and the door that led back into the kitchen, watching as he took me down the gravel path and to the stables. He pushed open the wooden door, and gestured me inside, leading me down the middle of the stables and past all the horses standing in their stalls. The horses watched and occasionally made a noise that was so loud I may have jumped out of my skin if I didn't know they were there. When we passed by all the horses, Samuel pushed back another door and nodded his head for me to enter.

Stepping into the room, I was amazed at how Samuel had managed to turn such a small room into a home. There was a small bed pushed into one corner, with a blanket laying on top. Off to the side was a small, round table with a bowl and spoon resting on top with a single chair tucked under it. In the centre of the room was a sofa, a blanket draped over the back of it and a roaring fire burning in the fireplace in front of it. On the opposite side of the room was a small kitchen with a stove and sink. It was a small room, but it looked and felt more like a home.

"Sit in front of the fire, you'll warm up quicker. I'm going to get some water boiling," Samuel said, waving a hand between the sofa in the middle of the room and the kitchen. I shuffled forward and took a seat on the edge of the sofa, the heat from the fire instantly surrounding me.

"This is so much better than sitting in front of the brazier," I said, rubbing my hands together and placing them, palms out, over the burning logs.

"I thought it might be." Samuel set about placing a metal kettle on the stove, watching it as the water boiled. "I saw what happened with Mr Warrington. Why did he pour the water on you?"

"I don't know. I hadn't even met him until that moment, Matilda had asked me to stay in the kitchens during the party. Perhaps he thought it would be a little joke, a way to break the new servant in or something."

"Hm, Mr Warrington is not a nice man. Whenever I see his carriage, I stay out of the way."

"I might have to do the same."

As the conversation fell silent, Samuel continued to on the tea, placing two mugs down and adding the tea leaves and quietly muttering to himself. Despite his muttering being so quiet, I caught a few of the words he was saying, but most of it came across as incoherent mumbling. I watched as he removed the kettle from the stove and poured the boiling water into the mugs, steam rising up out of the mugs. He grabbed the now full mugs and crossed the room to where I was sitting, muttering to himself as he went. This time, I caught more than just a few incoherent words.

"White man think he better than me," he muttered, handing me one of the mugs.

"Miss Jenkins told me you were a slave in America, why did you come to England?" I asked, the words spilling out before I could stop myself.

"Treatment of my people was worse in America after abolition then they were here. Some of us managed to get enough money for passage here in hopes of a better life. England abolished slavery years before the Americans."

"Did you find it?" I asked. "A better life, I mean."

"Yes. I have found good work here, paid work with a day off. The Ealing's a good family."

Samuel looked towards the fire and took a sip from his mug. I studied his face, the way his eyebrows were furrowed together in deep thought, how the fire reflected in his dark brown, almost black, eyes. As I look at him, I notice a small thin scar that trailed down the side of his cheek and down his neck, disappearing under the cotton of his shirt. I wanted to ask about the scar, to find out more about what being a slave meant, why he was treated like that, but I bit my tongue. I had learnt that there were somethings people will talk about when they feel ready to do so.

We sat in silence, watching the flames flicker in the fire and drinking our tea. Once again, I found myself sitting in front of thing that had been the reason for my arrival at the Ealing's. Much like the brazier several days before, the fire in the fireplace didn't look bad, it didn't look like it was out to destroy. The flames danced from log to log, a low crackling sound accompanying the flames as logs split because of the heat. Heat poured out of the fireplace, washing over me and drying a large portion of my clothes quicker than the brazier did.

Sitting in front of that fire almost felt like I was sitting at home again. It reminded me of the cold winter days with my mother, sitting in the living room with a mug of hot cocoa whilst she played the piano. She would play Christmas carols and encourage me to sing along, even if I didn't know the right words. There was something about sitting in front of the fire with Samuel that brought it all flooding back. Brought back the memories I had tried to ignore for so long.

"I never got to thank you," I said, placing my mug on the floor.

"For what?" Samuel asked, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"For the other day. If you hadn't told Miss Jenkins that Zachariah had fallen in the river, I wouldn't be here."

"You don't need to thank me for that, I would do it again. You were brave to go in and get him, that river's current is mighty strong."

"Hm, I realised that."

"Forgive me if I intrude, Miss, but may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, and you don't have to call me Miss, Rosie will do."

"Right, Rosie. When we first met, you told me that the burn on your arm had been caused when you fell into a fireplace and caught your dress."

"That's right," I said, tilting my head a little in confusion.

"If that's true, then why is the burn only on the top of your arm?"

I hadn't thought of that. All this time at the Ealing household and I hadn't once thought about whether my story was believable. The idea of simply falling into a fire made sense, it was logical, but the burn itself did not match the story. All of the trust I had worked to build up with the Ealing family felt as though it had shattered the moment Samuel had asked the question. If he had caught on, noticed the gap in my story after only one meeting, then surely the others would have noticed it as well. Surely Robert or Matilda would have seen something wrong with my story.

Taking a deep breath, I ran through every possible scenario I could in my head, trying to find a way to dig myself out of the dilemma, but there was no way. I couldn't continue to build on the lie, sooner or later it would spiral out of control and there would be no way to get back the trust that had formed. I was going to have to tell Samuel the truth, or a variation of the truth, and hope no one else had caught onto the issue with my story.

"I, erm, didn't get the burn from falling into a fire, that was just a story," I said, hoping he wouldn't press me for any more details.

"I thought as much. I've seen burn injuries caused by holding an arm into a fire and that doesn't look like one." He paused. "From where I'm sitting, what really happened is none of my concern, so I won't press you for answers. You might have a good reason for lying to Doctor Ealing."

"Let's just say that the truth is a little far-fetched to be believable, even if it did happen."

"Understandable. Your secret is safe with me, but you might want to consider telling them the truth, it will come out sooner or later and, in some cases, it is better to admit it then have it forced out."

Samuel was right, even If I didn't want him to be. Sooner or later, the truth of the factory was going to come out, either accidentally or on purpose. The Ealing family would know the truth, would know that I had lied to them and any chance I may have had to stay on in the household past by two-week trial would disappear. If they were going to find out the truth, it had to come from me rather than someone they didn't know. The only difficulty was that I couldn't just slip into conversation, it wasn't something I could just blurt out.

Doing as he said, Samuel didn't press the conversation any further. We sat in a comfortable silence, watching the flames dance in the fireplace, the room alight with the glow. The fire had done its job and completely dried out a large majority of my dress, with the back of it and my hair still a little damp. As we sat there, I watched Samuel pull a small pocket watch out of his pocket, something I didn't think he owned. He checked the time, then glanced briefly out of the small window close to the stove and then turned to me.

"It's getting late, you should go back to the kitchen in case you're needed. I need to check on the horses, so I will see you out," he said.

"You're probably right. I don't want to give either Matilda or Mr Warrington another reason to dislike," I said, laughing slightly.

"Come."

I picked my mug off the floor and placed it onto the circular table, not wanting to seem as though I was an un-tidy or rude person. Smoothing my dress over, I followed Samuel out of the room and back into the stables. Small candles lit the way from his house to the exit, the horses still peering over their stalls as we passed. With each horse we passed, Samuel poked his head in to check they were okay, he seemed to care an awful lot about the animals in his care. 

"Thank you again, for the other day and for inviting me for tea," I said when we reached the exit to the stables.

"It was my pleasure. Come and visit when you get the opportunity, I will introduce you to the horses."

"I will have to take you up on that offer," I said, "goodbye,"

"Goodbye, Rosie."

With a small smile and a wave, I turned and left Samuel to return to his house whilst I headed back across the grass and towards the house. Approaching the door to the kitchen, I listened quietly, trying to determine if there was any movement inside. After hearing nothing, I pushed open the door and slipped inside, moving one of the burning candles from the counter top to the table in the middle of the room. The piano music drifted down from upstairs, along with the sound of laughter and excitement.

Sighing, I brushed my hair off my face, tucking a loose strand behind my ear and looked away from the stairs leading up to the house. I glanced down at the table a plate with a slice of almond cake on it caught my eye. To the left of the plate was a folded piece of paper with a single word scrawled on it:

'Sorry.' 

~~~

A/N - Welcome to Chapter Fifteen! Just a quick reminder that the next chapter will be going up on TUESDAY THE 8TH! It does mean there will be a little gap between updates, but I prefer the Tuesday update day compared to Sunday, so don't miss it! 

Anyway, we have a new character! What are your first impressions of Mr Warrington? Do you think his son will be anything like him? Also, how about that Rosie and Samuel moment? I love their friendship so much!

Comment below!

Dedication - This chapter is dedicated to letterbyowl who made my brand new profile header! I love it so much, thank you :)

First published - December 30th, 2018