Eighteen years later, in the dim servants' quarters of the Thelmond household, Agatha's boots clicked softly against the wooden floor, the hem of her navy-blue dress sweeping across the filth beneath her feet.
The golden glow of the lantern in her hand illminated her path, casting long shadows along the narrow corridor. Maids passing by paused with startled expressions, whispering behind cupped hands while bowing politely, clearly puzzled as to why the lady of the house has ventured into such a place. Agatha paid them no mind, her gaze fixed firmly ahead.
She stopped before a particular door — nothing more than rough planks nailed together without care for polish or summery. Her brows knit as she raised her free hand and knocked. From inside came hurried rustle of parchments and the clatter of objects hitting the floor, prompting a small smile to tug at her lips. The door cracked open, revealing a red-haired girl with a disheveled appearance. Panic and awe flickered through the girl's blue eyes when she realized the woman standing before her.
"Madam... what brings you here?" she asked softly.
Agatha's smile vanished at once, annoyance washing over her features. Noticing that the girl made no attempt to invite her in, Agatha pushed the door open herself, causing the girl to stumble back. She stepped inside, taking in the pitiful state of the room. The furniture was damaged and sparse, the cold floor bare of any carpet or rug. A thin sheet lay atop a pressed-foam bed, while a three-legged table was shoved against the wall, half — swallowed by shadow. A single unlit candle sat near a window that had been firmly shut.
Agatha turned her sharp gaze on the girl and tugged gently at her ear.
"How many times must I repeat myself?" she said her voice firm yet unmistakably affectionate. "It's Mother , not Madam."
The girl whispered at the slight pain, lips puckering into a pout. Agatha's sternness melted instantly, and she released her ear.
"Did it hurt?" she asked, worry creasing her brow.
The red-haired girl shook her head, offering a small smile that eased Agatha's concern.
"Madam, you—"
Agatha's irritation flared again. Cutting her off, she raised the lantern closer to the girl's face. "Dydra Marianne Thelmond, why don't you ever listen?"
Dydra frowned at the heat of the lantern, then her blue eyes softened, mischief flashing briefly within them. "Mother," she said gently.
The glare vanished from Agatha's gave, replaced by warmth. "You shouldn't be here," Dydra added, worry clouding her eyes.
Agatha cupped her cheek, stroking it softly. "I know, my dear. But I wanted to see you." Tears shimmered in her eyes as she pulled Dydra into a tight embrace, caring little for the girl's shabby clothes.
Dydra hugged her back, pressing her face against Agatha's shoulder. "You cannot be here, Mother," she whispered.
Agatha's shuddered slightly at the word, tightening her hold before pulling away. "I know," she murmured. Then, steadying herself, she said, "Jerry will be leaving on a trip tomorrow. I want you in my room — three minutes after nine. Cover your head with a scarf." Her fingers brushed through Dydra's red hair. "It is rough. I shall tend to it."
Dydra nodded. She watched Agatha leave, blowing her a small kiss before the door closed. The smile in her lips faded as darkness reclaimed the room.
The next morning, Agatha woke to a feather-light kiss on her forehead. A warm smile curved her husband standing over her, dressed neatly in a grey suit, with his dark hair combed back.
"Leaving so soon?" she asked softly as she rose from the bed. Her pink silk nightgown glided over her pale skin, her blonde hair falling loosely down her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to reach him.
Jerry smiled, his large hands settling comfortably at her waist. Sunlight streamed through the window, catching in her blue eyes and making her look like something out of a fairytale. His heart softened and he kissed her lips. Heat rushed to Agatha's cheeks as she giggled.
He leaned close, brushing her ear with his lips before biting it gently, earning a soft whine from her. Inhaling her scent, he murmured, "I don't want to leave."
"I don't want you to leave," she replied.
"But this trip is important," he said, more to himself than her.
Agatha smiled. "Then you have to go."
He chuckled softly, pulling away with visible reluctance. "If I keep looking at you, I would not," he admitted, shutting his eyes tight.
Laughing, Agatha grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him. It struck lightly, making him open his eyes. Their gazes locked, and Jerry winked at his wife, drawing a blush from her before blowing her a kiss.
"Escort me out?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
She slipped on her robe and walked him to the front of the mansion. Jerry entered the waiting carriage, and a servant shut the door. Hooves struck the ground as the carriage rolled away.
Jerry waved from the window. Agatha waved back.
When the carriage disappeared from sight, Agatha remained outside for almost a minute, her gaze fixed on the space the carriage occupied few seconds ago. Her eyes showing the words her mouth refused to utter. With a small smile on her lips, she turned and returned to their room.
She would miss him.