The Maid Under the Stairs - Chapter 2
< Chapter 2 >
Throughout the early evening, the band, which had been jazzing up the young crowd with modern tunes, transitioned into slower dance melodies fitting for the nobility as the night grew deeper.
All the electric lights in the mansion were turned off, and only the flickering candles illuminated the ballroom with an elegant ambiance.
Mabel was led by the mysterious man she met on the balcony, dancing with him. He smoothly led her with slow, tender steps that Mabel could easily follow.
‘One, two, one, two…’
Mabel couldn’t understand what was happening to her. She only focused on her feet to avoid embarrassing herself in front of this man.
Because of this, Mabel was oblivious to the murmurs of those who recognized the man, a man from a long line of nobility and a god of London’s political scene, or the curious eyes that gazed upon her for the honor of dancing with him.
“Hah.”
As Mabel heard her partner’s faint laughter, she looked up to see the man smiling beautifully above his thick cravat of deep blue velvet.
“Are you laughing right now?”
Blushing to her ears, Mabel whispered to him. He stifled his laughter and shook his head.
“No, just because I thought I could hear you counting quietly in my ear.”
He teasingly whispered into Mabel’s ear. His mature scent and the softness of his voice sent shivers down Mabel’s spine.
“Instead, try inhaling and exhaling like this.”
The man gently instructed as he placed his hand on Mabel’s lower back. Without realizing it, Mabel’s body leaned into his touch. It felt like she could momentarily share the aura of nobility surrounding him.
“You’re doing well, just like that.”
The man praised in a calm and affectionate tone as he took hold of Mabel’s wrist. Encouraged by the warmth of his hand, Mabel found herself moving to the precise rhythm for the first time.
In the following beats, she alternated between drawing closer and moving slightly away, syncing with his subtle cues, creating a slow and sweet dance in harmony with the arpeggios of the music.
As the soft music reached its climax, Mabel realized that his eyes had been fixed on her from the beginning.
And she, too, responded to his every breath, gradually closing the distance between them in tune with the romantic melody.
Clap, clap, clap…
Suddenly, as the music ended, the applause from everyone who had danced seemed to echo from afar, as if from a distant place.
“Hah… Hah…”
Despite the slow pace of the music, Mabel found herself breathing heavily, tense from dancing the whole time.
Mabel looked up at the man standing in front of her, his affectionate smile still present but now replaced with a slightly puzzled expression, as if he were trying to see through the veil covering Mabel’s true self.
After leaving the first dance, which left an intriguing taste, Mabel managed to make her way with the mysterious man to the dark balcony, using the excuse of feeling too warm in the air of the crowded ballroom.
As she looked at his perfect face illuminated by the candlelight, Mabel felt more than just awe for his appearance. There was a stirring of emotions deep within her, beyond mere admiration.
“So, the noble lady protagonist decides to meet her lover by the window without her father’s knowledge. Her lover, who will go to war the next day! As the night falls, the man climbs up to the lady’s room from the window…”
Mabel was busy narrating the plot of her novel without even realizing who was standing in front of her. She even elaborated on episodes where she had personally attempted the characters’ actions for realistic descriptions.
“I wasn’t sure if it was possible to hang by the window at this height, so I tried jumping myself and ended up spraining my ankle. But according to my observant friend, if I had jumped just a little higher, I could have reached it. Luckily, the male protagonist of my story is a robust soldier, so jumping that high wouldn’t be a problem for him.”
Mabel chuckled, wrinkling her nose. The man, with his imposing appearance and demeanor, surprisingly had a knack for putting her at ease. Whenever he listened to her stories and let out occasional soft laughs, Mabel felt a strange flutter in her chest.
“The two lovers meet under the candlelight and dance as if it might be their last… I always struggled with the description of this part. But thanks to that, I finally found a solution for how to write that scene.”
Recalling the passionate breaths they shared in the ballroom, Mabel blushed again as she continued speaking.
“In the final scene of my novel, the man says, ‘Even if I go to war and risk my life, I will love only you even more.'”
As she reached the end of her story, Mabel suddenly felt embarrassed and her voice trailed off.
The man leaned against the marble railing of the balcony, quietly watching Mabel as she spoke. His deep brown hair remained still in the summer night breeze, resembling a sculpture that one could believe in if it weren’t for the gentle sway.
“That reminds me of a passage from one of Browning’s sonnets.”
He said, keeping his eyes fixed on Mabel. Startled by his intense gaze, Mabel looked up as if in a daze.
“Oh my! How did you know that I wrote my story while thinking of Browning’s poetry?”
Despite subtly hinting throughout her novel that it was inspired by sonnets from her favorite poet, nobody had ever noticed.
Unlike Mabel, who had the opportunity to attend school and study literature thanks to her luck as a war orphan, most of her readers, who were mostly maids, had never received a proper education.
‘It’s one thing for the maids who didn’t attend school, but even Miss Russell, who was a governess from a noble family, didn’t notice! Remarkable!’
Mabel admired the man’s ability to see through her intentions as soon as he heard the story.
“Do you happen to enjoy literature? Or are you perhaps a writer yourself?”
Mabel’s shyness, which had barely allowed her to make eye contact, disappeared as she unconsciously stood closer to him.
With her eyes sparkling with delight like a black cat in front of a tasty prey, hidden behind her black lace veil and dress, Mabel waited for his answer.
“Oh, no. On the contrary, it’s quite the opposite.”
He replied with a captivating tone, his suit shimmering in the moonlight with a typical British gentleman style.
“I’m told my job is to ’cause countless conflicts and chaos.’ So, unfortunately, I haven’t had many opportunities to encounter literature amid all that chaos.”
As he finished the dance with Mabel, he meaningfully mentioned a group of Oxford scholars approaching to avoid detection.
His family, a combination of generations of successful businessmen and a prestigious noble lineage, symbolized the epitome of the upper class in Britain. Furthermore, as a young heir to the family, he occasionally used his reputation and the family’s influence to stir up trouble against those who opposed him in politics.
“Too bad, literature is one of the few things that can bring justice amid chaos.”
Mabel said with a cheerful tone. His occupation didn’t matter to her. After all, he was someone she would never meet again, as she was hiding her identity.
As the clock struck midnight and the line of cars and carriages in front of the mansion started to diminish, Mabel began to feel anxious about the beautiful night coming to an end, knowing she wouldn’t see him again.
“I hesitated to come here tonight… but I’m glad I did. It was a rare opportunity for me, you see.”
Mabel tried to speak honestly without revealing her deception about her status. The man noticed the change in her tone and silently watched her.
Mabel wished she could steal more glimpses of his eyes, deep like a lake yet calm like a storm. She also felt a desire to hear his soft and warm voice a little longer.
‘I’ve only just met him tonight, and he comes from such a different background, yet I feel like I want to keep talking to him. Why is that?’
Even if she is lucky enough to see him again someday, he surely wouldn’t recognize her in her maid’s attire.
As far as her thoughts reached, Mabel couldn’t help but feel a little sour and glanced at him for no reason.
When she thought for a moment that they were caught in each other’s stubborn gaze, the man approached as closely as when he danced with her. He cautiously put his hand on Mabel’s waist and gently pulled her towards him. His handsome nose and gaze fell over Mabel’s face, and a refreshing scent was felt.
Mabel’s eyelashes trembled at his proactive actions. A soft smile hung on his lips.
‘Ah… You’re so beautiful.’
The two stood on the balcony, bathed in the warm moonlight.
The romantic music faintly heard from the banquet hall, his charmingly inclined jawline, and his blue eyes gazing softly at her.
Mabel felt like the heroine of the novel she was writing for a moment. His hand, holding Mabel’s waist, tightened slightly. Like a butterfly drawn to the scent of flowers, Mabel soon placed her hand on his shoulder and approached his lips little by little.
Just as their lips were about to meet.
‘Oops, no…!’
Mabel spotted George Herbert dragging a heavily intoxicated Daisy away from just below the balcony.
The moonlight, which had just illuminated them with a gentle silver, now shone coldly on Daisy, as if to awaken Mabel’s reality.
Mabel broke free from the man’s embrace around her. The man seemed perplexed by Mabel’s contemplative expression. Leaving him like this would only leave him with a big misunderstanding, but Mabel didn’t have time to explain everything.
With a heart that felt like it would burst with frustration and regret, she took one last look at him and finally fled from the balcony towards Daisy.
The man stood there, gazing coldly at the corner where she disappeared, searching for the warmth that felt like a welcome.