Terribly Lottey Page 3

  I feel as if my back is broken in two sorrowful pieces. I’ve been used the past three days to haul milk from the barn to the mansion. It seems that every odd, unoccupied job is laid upon me. I am a little proud of how I’m handling myself, however; haven’t exploded at anyone in a while. Not since Ursula told me to do something I was already doing. But, I suppose I should forgive her; all of us have such a lot on our minds we can’t tell which way we’re walking most of the time.

  Jyne didn’t call on me again that day, and I was terribly, immensely grateful. I am not scared of her. I do not fear her presence as most maids do, for I have now experience in both positions. I know that as long as nothing is done to trigger a blow to the head, none will come. Unless, of course, the Lady is in a horrid mood– servants are the most perfect target to take anything out on, naughty as it is for me to say it.

  I am awaiting word to find if I have a permanent position in two jobs. I dread it. I will never get sleep if I am to always to do double work, and therefore I will always snap nastily at anything said to me. Unless of course the one speaking to me is Lady Jyssel (which I find to be extremely rare). I haven’t yet said anything really nasty to Jyne. I almost want to on purpose, just so I know what to expect when something slips out unexpectedly. But when will I have to chance?

  Hopefully never.

  It is late night as I write, and I sit in the doorway to the outside. The moonlight isn’t as bright as it could be, but that’s my luck. If anyone does ever read this, it will be awfully difficult–

  I just found Ryse over my shoulder. Argh, his rottenness. He really does bother me.

  “It really isn’t all that difficult.”

  I spun on him, and demanded to know exactly how long he had been reading over my shoulder.

  “Long enough to know your favorite words. Horrid, terrible, nasty…”

  I tried to bite my tongue down, but it wouldn’t stay. “I don’t like you.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  I grimaced. His teasing smile was terribly menacing, and I wanted to rip from his horrid mouth. He sat down beside me. I scooted away from him, just a tad.

  “If you are in such dire need of sleep, maybe you should try your bed.” He folded his arms on the tops of his knees, and I sensed he didn’t expect a response.

  That was fortunate. I didn’t plan on answering.

  I closed my book and ran my hands over it. This book, I had taken it from a servant. One of her very few belongings, I had took it. But it still belonged to a servant now. It was as if the first pages were written by an elegant Lady, and the latter by a terribly dirty scullery maid.

  Oh yes, I know why. They were.

  “You don’t have to talk to me. It’s nothing different; not much of anybody talks to the hall boy. Except to screech orders.”

  I couldn’t help but let escape a slight giggle. Then I straightened my mouth into a thin line again. “Could you not sleep tonight?”

  He scratched his back and shrugged. “I could, until you thundered down the hall and woke me.”

  “That’s when you decided to snoop?”

  He grinned. “How could it be snooping, when I was doing it quite openly?”

  He, of course, had a point. But I didn’t let on that I was aware.

  “I’m going back to the floor. The dirty work takes a lot of energy, you know.”

  I watched him get up. He sleeps in his clothes. Either that or he got dressed in the middle of the night especially for me. “I’m sorry I woke you. I’ll try to be more mouse-like.”

  “Ah, no worries.”

  I almost feel sympathy. A low job, no comrades, depleted pay. Suppose I’d be more like him if I hadn’t been in the Devingrole Mansion for fifteen years.