The Maid Under the Stairs - Chapter 7
< Chapter 7 >
On the last day of September, the red and yellow leaves adorned the streets, forming tunnels with the shedding trees, while the beautiful university buildings with their red bricks and white window frames shone brightly in the autumn sunlight.
Summerhill College for Women was adjacent to the London School of Economics, less than an hour’s distance away. Despite being a small college, a bustling university village had formed between the two schools, consisting of shops and boarding houses.
Mabel often found herself enchanted by the charm of the small and cozy Summerhill College. Although she occasionally contemplated exploring the outskirts and even venturing into central London, she often found herself spending her time admiring the beautiful old buildings and pathways of the college whenever she had spare moments.
‘I never knew what it felt like to have a hometown, but Summerhill feels like coming back to a home I’ve never known. Perhaps I was destined to be here.’
As Mabel exited Cheshire Hall, where the post office and auditorium were located, she looked down upon the beautiful scenery of Summerhill. It was a leisurely Friday, a month into her studies, after taking a Latin note exam. In her hands were replies from Daisy from Cheshire Hall and a letter from Lord Alfred.
As she read the lively letter from Daisy, full of complaints about Lady Margaret and Daisy’s eagerness to see Mabel again, Mabel couldn’t help but smile throughout.
After reading through the gossip of the mundane manor and the news of Lord Herbert’s eldest son returning from studying abroad, Mabel carefully tucked Daisy’s letter into her pocket. Finally, she opened Lord Alfred’s brief letter.
Miss Mabel Willis,
I trust you’re settling into Summerhill and enjoying the induction ceremony. I’m relieved to hear you’re gradually adapting. I plan to spend this winter at a villa on the southern coast for my recuperation.
Your sponsorship account is entrusted to Crosby Solicitors, and William is designated as the guarantor. If you need assistance, do not hesitate to contact him. Of course, remember to inform this old man in Oxford occasionally, provided my inquiries do not intrude on the lives of the young. Enclosed below is the address of the White Sands Villa.
PS: I’ve instructed William to send you the guaranteed signature for this month in advance.
Lord Alfred’s affectionate yet formal letter brought a slight pang to Mabel’s heart as she noted the sentence designating William Edmundstone as her guarantor during Lord Alfred’s recuperation. However, Mabel dismissed it as a trivial matter.
‘It’s just a monthly request for a guaranteed signature.’
She suppressed the fluttering in her heart every time his name came up.
To him, the brief memory of that night might not have been as significant as to easily forget, but to Mabel, who felt like she had become Cinderella for a night, his smile and touch became strangely missed every time she found herself in William Edmundstone’s presence.
However, Mabel had to remind herself that now was not the time to be swayed by complicated feelings towards William. Today was finally the day she was to meet Mary’s brother, who happened to be the editor-in-chief of the Montaire Publishing House.
Mabel’s steps quickened as she made her way towards the dormitory, pushing through the fallen leaves.
“Mabel!”
Mary waved enthusiastically from the balcony of the communal parlor, accompanied by a blond man who was eyeing Mabel.
Tall with noticeable features that seemed like they belonged to a member of the family, he had a striking presence unlike Mary’s, appearing somewhat aloof and sharp. He was dressed in a fashionable suit without a hat, the epitome of modern urban gentlemen who didn’t bother with formality.
‘That must be Leon de Percy, Mary’s brother.’
As Mabel nervously approached the balcony, Leon was already seated on the long sofa of the spacious parlor, flipping through the manuscript Mabel had sent a few days prior.
Mabel greeted him politely and reintroduced herself, but he merely gave a slight nod, typical of a haughty Londoner, seemingly not even considering getting up to greet the lady.
“So, what do you think, Leon? It’s a popular piece among the students at our dormitory. If it gets published, won’t your publishing house make a fortune?”
While Mabel felt deflated by Leon’s arrogant demeanor, Mary pulled Mabel to sit opposite Leon, her face beaming with joy.
“Oh, then Mabel will make a fortune too, won’t she? Then I’ll nag her to go on a culinary tour of the South with me. We’ll try delicacies like lemon rice pudding or orange tart. Oh my, just imagine, only the South of England. Perhaps we’ll end up traveling all over Europe and tasting various delicacies!”
As Mary’s imagination wandered as usual, Leon finally lifted his head to scrutinize Mabel. His sharp features gradually softened with interest.
“Mary, if a book gets published just because some schoolgirls giggle, the world will be overflowing with books.”
He spoke with a smooth American accent. If Mary tended to speak British English with an American accent, he didn’t even seem to need to make the effort.
Simultaneously, his green eyes, looking at Mabel, seemed to contain a hint of mockery.
Mabel’s face flushed crimson. Although Mabel, lacking confidence in her writing, could still perceive that Leon’s words were somewhat excessive.
“Even though you’re Mary’s family, isn’t it a bit too harsh to say that to a lady you’re meeting for the first time, regarding her writing?”
Mabel retorted, glaring at the impolite Leon.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was invited here to critique the lady’s writing.”
Leon replied casually, looking around before retorting.
“I thought I was here on behalf of Montaire Publishing to respond to submissions from authors.”
Mabel was momentarily speechless. She felt ridiculous demanding courtesy from herself, who was essentially a maid, towards a gentleman, but Leon’s mention of a publishing house and author struck a chord.
Taking advantage of Mabel’s silence, Mary exploded with anger towards Leon.
“Why are you being like this to Mabel? I’m just asking to publish my friend’s writing, and yet you’re treating Mabel with such rudeness! I’ll tell Mom and Dad right away…”
“Mary, did you call me here to inquire if Miss Willis’ writing could be published, or to use our family connection to publish unsuitable writings? If it’s the latter, your grandfather would be greatly disappointed, wouldn’t he?”
Despite Mary’s jumping complaints, Leon remained lounging on the sofa’s backrest, speaking calmly. When the story of his grandfather founding a newspaper in America for fair journalism came up, Mary’s anger subsided slightly.
“I’ll be more polite then. Could you please allow Ms. Willis and I to talk separately?”
Taking advantage of Mary’s softened anger, Leon spoke again in a gentle voice. Mary glanced at Mabel as if seeking permission.
“Mr. de Percy is right, Mary. I’ll be fine, so please step aside.”
Mabel smiled awkwardly, feeling a bit intimidated by what Leon might say without Mary’s presence, but as an author, she realized she needed to be able to speak with him.
“I’ve barely made friends… to be asked to be kind…”
Mary muttered softly, nudging Leon with her shoulder reluctantly before leaving. The apology was evident in her expression as she glanced at Mabel before closing the parlor door.
“As a writer who wants to be evaluated not as a lady or Mary’s friend but as an author, I’ve decided to talk to Mr. de Percy. So please, Mr. de Percy, treat me with the same courtesy as you would with other authors.”
Mabel straightened up and spoke steadily. Leon smiled slightly in response. Despite his cold and rude remarks, his smiling face had a boyish yet beautiful aspect to it, contrasting with his earlier demeanor.
“I will do so, Miss Willis.”
He stretched his back and crossed his legs, lounging comfortably in the long chair with only a dark suit jacket over his shirt, no tie. Leon’s imposing figure relaxed into the chair as he rested one hand on his head, leisurely gazing at Mabel.
“I understand why you write. You have a knack for writing witty prose.”
Although he had mentioned being polite, Leon’s relaxed posture and casual tone made him appear even more arrogant.
“But that’s about it. I’m not sure if stories that only excite innocent young ladies with no worldly experience, like romantic tales… have any publishing value.”
Mabel could handle criticism of her writing style. She could even appreciate that her writing was taken seriously.
However, she couldn’t agree with the notion that stories about ‘love’ or ‘romance’ had no value. Especially not after seeing Lord Alfred’s tears.
“Aren’t those innocent young ladies falling in love and experiencing romance what makes the world go round?”
For the first time since their conversation began, Mabel looked Leon straight in the eye and retorted sharply.