The Maid Under the Stairs - Chapter 8
< Chapter 8 >
As a maid lingering under the stairs, Mabel had hardly ever mixed with the upper class.
Nevertheless, having had a few run-ins with gentlemen of the highest echelons, such as the Edmundstones, she thought she had become somewhat immune to their glances and conversations.
However, when a capable gentleman from the gentry like Leon sat comfortably, somewhat charmingly, and stared at her intensely, Mabel felt incredibly uncomfortable.
“The world spins on the love of innocent ladies, doesn’t it? Haha, quite a true statement.”
With a slight tilt of his head, Leon de Percy, who seemed to find this situation very amusing, finally responded to Mabel’s audacious remark.
“So, is Ms. Willis here just writing to cater to the whimsical fantasies of young ladies to make money?”
Despite the sunlight streaming through the parlor window, Leon’s grey eyes, tinged with laughter, remained cold.
“I thought evaluating a writer’s skills was ultimately the job of Mr. de Percy from the publishing house.”
Even though she shrank under Leon’s gaze, Mabel spoke with her head held high. Of course, it was true that Mabel wanted to write to earn money, and it was natural for her to hope her writing would be popular.
Nevertheless, Mabel had seen her stories bring comfort to Lord Alfred and watched countless maids at Oxford happily finish their hard days after reading her work. Therefore, she did not want to agree with Leon de Percy’s arrogant words.
“Even if the prestigious Montaire Publishing House or someone like Mr. de Percy there gives unfavorable reviews and I don’t make a penny from these writings, if there are people who enjoy reading my work, I will continue to write.”
Mabel knew that no matter what she said, it would be of little use to someone like Leon de Percy, who was accustomed to reading and evaluating countless writers’ works. So, this was her last word before leaving her seat.
“Miss Willis seems impatient.”
Leon, watching her rise from her seat with a clatter of the teacup, remarked. His face still held a boyish smile, but his gaze was sharper than ever.
“The work isn’t ready to be published by Montaire, ‘yet.’ With just one short story, we can’t consistently gather readers. However, it’s clear that the story is gaining popularity among the audience Montaire wants, so offering Miss Willis a chance is our official evaluation at the publishing house.”
Mabel looked at Leon skeptically as he spoke vaguely. She still hadn’t sat back down.
“When this piece is polished to a certain standard with my guidance, we’ll have it featured in our monthly magazine’s short story section.”
Leon said in a somewhat affectionate tone, noticing Mabel’s confusion.
If Mabel had been just another writer, writing to earn money by catering to the readers’ tastes, Leon wouldn’t have considered making any proposals to her. Her writing certainly had its charm, but he was already weary of adding another piece to the plethora of love stories pouring out daily.
From the titles to the content, recent trends encompassed everything, resulting in a plethora of similar narratives. Most of these writers chased fleeting popularity and soon faded away.
However, as the successor of Montaire Publishing, Leon, before becoming its CEO, wanted to find a writer he could work with as an editor and who would last.
“You said it’s nothing special.”
Mabel looked at Leon with a complex expression, unsure whether she was surprised, angry, or pleased.
Upon hearing Leon’s cold words about her writing, Mabel’s heart sank. While not everything he said was true, having someone from the publishing industry voice doubts about her capabilities, something she had always questioned herself, filled her heart with shame and sorrow.
“It seems like I was a bit too harsh on inexperienced writers full of passion but lacking experience.”
Critiquing novice writers and their work face-to-face wasn’t new to Leon, but somehow, in front of Mabel’s pale face, he felt a pang of weakness rather than his usual resolute stance.
“I admit I’m skeptical about… the kind of… work Miss Willis produces. However, the offer I presented is undoubtedly a good opportunity for aspiring writers.”
Leon stood up, stretching his long legs.
“I’ve completed my assessment of your capabilities. Now, the decision to work with me lies with Miss Willis. However, I must clarify that I’m not foolish enough to offer opportunities solely because of Mary’s connection. Once you decide, please send word through Mary.”
Leon brushed his shining blonde hair aside with one hand, then flashed his characteristic smile again, a mischievous yet cold smile.
“Well then, I’ll take my leave to spend time with my sister. I’ll probably hear a lot of nagging from her, though.”
As Leon bowed gracefully, this time Mabel merely nodded in acknowledgment, still somewhat angry at his words, but unable to deny the allure of the opportunity he had given her.
* * *
As Leon left the parlor, he had to admit he was a bit surprised when he first saw Mabel.
Her writing was unusually rich in emotion and warmth. Hence, he had secretly imagined Mabel to be a lively and refined lady like Mary.
‘To think she appears tired, cold, and fearful… Her writing and appearance don’t match at all.’
Mabel had always seemed intimidated whenever Leon provoked her, so it was quite surprising to see her flashing her brown eyes and retorting. As she trembled slightly, trying to keep her head held high, something stirred within Leon’s heart.
The warmth hidden behind her cold expression. An undeniable, fiery passion.
At that moment, he realized that Mabel was someone similar to himself. As Leon started the car engine, a faint smile crossed his lips.
“I hope she contacts Montaire Publishing- no, I hope she contacts me.”
* * *
“I finally feel like I’m having the college life I’ve been dreaming of!”
Mary exclaimed excitedly.
Mabel, Mary, Mary’s roommate Irina, and Julia from the same dormitory floor were walking together down the leaf-strewn streets of Summerhill College.
They all carried buckets filled with maple syrup in their hands.
“If I knew college life included this kind of manual labor, my parents wouldn’t have sent me here.”
Irina grumbled with her usual mischievous expression. As a noblewoman from London, Irina complained the most while handling the lightest bucket of syrup.
The four ladies from the second floor of the dormitory participated as organizers of the Autumn Festival at Summerhill College. It was Mary’s enthusiasm that led them to volunteer as organizers, but as it was their first social event as college students, they were all excited.
However, among the various tasks for the festival, making Summerhill College’s famous maple syrup was the most arduous.
“By the way, why are we making syrup for the college festival?”
Julia asked, a daughter of a Canterbury countryside estate.
Julia, the youngest of the four at nineteen, was already engaged to a gentleman named Robert from a neighboring town. They planned to marry three years after his graduation, as Robert was about to enter university at the time of their engagement.
Julia’s father, who had raised her with utmost care, sent her to Summerhill College in London, fearing that her future son-in-law, a prospective graduate, might ignore her.
“I don’t know why, but at least we can’t spend the money earned from selling syrup freely. I already asked Senior Lorelei about it.”
Mary clicked her tongue and continued speaking. Perhaps it was the response she received while nagging Senior Lorelei, who was in charge of the festival preparations.
Julia and Mary continued discussing whether to steal a few bottles of syrup throughout the walk away from the leafy path.
Despite the hard work, the fresh air made Mabel feel significantly better.
Listening to the eccentric conversations of the girls while receiving the blessing of the red foliage baptism provided Mabel with much-needed respite after days spent in the library.
After expressing her desire to have her work published in the Montaire Publishing magazine to Leon, she immersed herself in her writing.
Leon didn’t boast or act as if he had expected her response. Instead, he sent her a letter suggesting they work together more politely than before. However, Mabel, still not having forgotten his rudeness, responded curtly.
Instead, she put more effort into refining her writing than usual, spending longer hours in the library every evening than the seniors. Mary, under the guise of being a festival preparations committee member, had to practically drag Mabel out of the library.
‘Thanks to Mary, spending time chatting made me feel much clearer-headed.’
Mabel appreciated her caring friend’s efforts. Spending time in nature not only lifted her spirits but also reminded her that the most important thing in writing was the readers, not trying to flatten the nose of someone as obstinate as Leon de Percy.
As the four ladies arrived at the dormitory, chatting away, they stopped in their tracks and they spotted a tall figure standing in front of the stone dormitory building, illuminated by the setting sun.
William Edmundstone’s blue eyes slowly turned towards Mabel.