The Training of Scarlet Worthy (3 page)

I settled back in my seat.
This is getting better and better
. I did the simple math in my head.
If Madison has been with the Lady for fifteen years, then she must be a senior Lady. No wonder she needs someone to help her. This is going to be a breeze.
My confidence was unbridled.

The little light turned red. The velvet wall ascended and I sat alone. The car was soundproof, I adjusted to the eerie quiet. We drove the remainder of the journey in silence.

Along the way, my idle curiosity once more got the better of my judgment.
I may not get a second chance to ride alone in such luxury,
I thought.
I might as well look around. This car has too many goodies to go without checking them out. I’ll take the risk of Madison catching me.

I loved gadgets, and I liked to discover how they worked. This car was like a toy store for me. I half stood, and I tip-toed my way to the console at the front of the car. I opened the mahogany door and found it to be a miniature refrigerator. I ran my hand over the assorted bottles. There were miniatures of Scotch, Vodka Gin and numerous brandies and cordials. Bottles of wine and half bottles of champagne stood to one side. Above the console hung inverted flutes and rows of assorted glass wear.

I chose a bottle of sparkling water, and inched my way back to my seat. I imagining myself as royalty, me on my way back to the castle. I took a sip right out of the bottle.
So much for Royalty, Sibyl girl
, I thought
. I'm afraid you're a commoner at heart.

I continued browsing, discovering a panel of buttons and switches conveniently positioned on the arm rest on my right. I pushed the first button at random and I was delighted to watch the black velvet curtains slide gracefully along their concealed rails on each side of the limo. Slowly the curtains blacked out the daylight from within my private chamber. I watched with delight as tiny luminaries in the overhead automatically compensated for the darkness, each bulb creating a warm glow, twinkling from the ceiling like tiny stars. I watched as they dotted the roof in tune with the closing of the curtains.

I was like a kid in a candy store. I touched the adjacent switch and the back of my seat reclined, while simultaneously I felt my legs spread and become elevated by a support that raised my legs to a reclining position. I reached between my legs to find that there was a small padded drawer. Inside I found headrests.
How odd
, I thought.
They are fixed in place and they look like the ones you would find on the backs of chairs in a beauty salon. I guess that somehow they snap on to seatbacks so that a passenger could nap in full comfort
.
The person who designed this rolling luxury had thought of every possible convenience.

I couldn't stop myself. I continued pushing buttons. One button engaged a flat screen television that miraculously rose from the interior of the console. The next button produced a speaker phone above my head and a polite voice prompted: "Calling please?"

It was too late for restraint, "Old Abbey Hotel," I said. The instrument went silent momentarily, and then a voice, "Old Abbey Hotel, front desk. May I help you?"

"Sorry," I lied sheepishly. "I dialed a wrong number."

I could hear the desk man hang up, and the speaker phone recognized the disconnection and responded, "Instructions please?"

"Disconnect?" It was the best I could offer, but to my joy it recognized my command and the system said, "Disconnecting."

I continued playing with the switches and stopped only when I felt the car slowing down. I opened the drapes and rearrange everything in the original position. I sat upright and smoothed my clothing so as to appear as proper as I believed the Lady would expected of me.

Madison slowed the Bentley and he eased the car onto a country road beyond the outskirts of Bath. The landscape drifted gracefully by my windows. I settled in to enjoy the unmistakable beauty of the farm land of the Cotswold’s, rolling country landscape occasionally punctuated by grazing sheep and modest farmhouses with hand worked thatched roofs, all magically passed by my window.

The journey continued for thirty minutes. Madison turned the car into what I thought a country lane. Later I was to discover that the Manor sat upon over twelve hundred acres of land, and that this lane was merely the access to what would soon be a vision of elegance that I would never forget.

I sat up abruptly in my seat. The narrow lane widened and a tree-lined boulevard rose to accept the entrance of the Bentley. We passed under the canopy of branches, the sun dancing through the leaves and reflecting through the car’s window. Madison guided the limo to a round-a-bout which in the center rose a tall marble obelisk, a rectangular tower baring the same Crest that was on Madison's card. The Crest image was as large as the Bentley, and it was carved into the face of the sculpture. The monument was magnificent and I couldn't help but think that it had stood at the center of this boulevard for ages.

Then I saw it off in the distance. I squinted my eyes unsure of what I was seeing. Madison saw my confusion and the green light came on. "Welcome to the Manor at Brighton Miss Smith. It is indeed something for the senses. Is it not?"

"That's the house?" I stammered.

Madison smiled. "Yes Miss Sybil. That is the Manor house. It seems to have the same effect on all of my first-time guests that I carry here. I see that you are no exception."

"It's beautiful, and it's so big!"

"Forty thousand square feet I'm told, and that is simply the main residence. There are dozens of smaller out-buildings, including my own lodgings, and those of other staff and several barns, working barns for horses and livestock, and one that My Lady has converted into an exercise facility. That's what she calls it. I myself have not been permitted full access to the inside - just within a small section of that unique facility. My Lady is quite strict about who has access to certain parts of the Estate. There are severe restrictions regarding buildings that the staff are permitted entrance, and also severe penalties for those who disregard My Lady's restrictions."

The Manor was a classic English Estate House. I was reminded of the one featured in the long running television PBS series. I wondered if the staff was as complete and vigorous as they appeared in that program, and if they numbered as many.

A circular drive snaked its way under the stone portico at the front of the mansion. A ten foot fountain lavished a cascading water treatment that soothed eyes and ears of weary guest so privileged to be invited to the Manor. Discarding any sense of humility, I felt that same sense of privilege.

Madison stopped the Bentley, he appeared instantly at my door. I took his hand and stepped out onto the cobblestone drive. He could see the puzzled look in my eyes. I was stage struck. The overpowering opulence of the Manor suddenly sapped my overconfidence. My foolish girlish pride drained from me and I felt small in the presence of the Estates' size and elegance.

Madison whispered, "I will help you to the vestibule Miss Sibyl. Someone will meet you there and present you to My Lady. It was nice meeting you. Good luck with your interview."

Madison eased past me. He opened the ten foot tall French doors and we stood facing a tiny woman wearing a cook’s apron. Madison spoke to her in a language unfamiliar to me. I presumed it to be French, or perhaps Dutch. The woman said something. Madison responded in the same language and gestured for me to enter.

The woman was a dark haired girl, perhaps in her mid-twenties, her hair pulled severely into a pony tail. In my estimation she appeared, somewhat stern, or perhaps just aloof. She was pretty, a petite woman, I estimated her to be just over five foot tall.

I followed her gestures and stepped into the entry hall. Above hung a crystal chandelier with too many lights for my eyes to count. The floor was polished stone and scattered about upon it, a handful of oriental rugs. Tapestries clung to the walls and the side tables glistened with silver objects collected, presumably, on international travels.
Trophies
, I thought.
Perhaps selected by the Lord and Lady of the Manor?

The aloof woman did not smile at me. She pointed to a straight back chair and simply said. "Please sit Mademoiselle." I sat. I waited as the woman vanished into the bowels of the Estate.
She needs a good talking to.
I thought, a touch of anger crossed momentarily in my mind.
Yes indeed,
s
he needs for someone to teach her better manners.

Madison closed the door behind himself on the way out. I was alone in the vestibule. It was as quiet as a chapel. I sat up straight, my heels held together and my hands lay modestly in my lap. I waited. Fifteen minutes passed, then fifteen more. I tried not to fidget, but self-discipline was not my strong suite when I was anxious, and I was becoming more anxious as the minutes passed.

What have you gotten yourself into Sibyl
? I thought. I was struck with how little talent and experience I possessed.
I must be delusional. The only job I ever held was farm work. How could I ever conceive that I could assist someone with the awesome demands of this Estate? I am a foolish and naïve girl.

My mind snapped out of its self-flagellation. I heard a door open and a warm light drifted from a room at the top of the grand staircase. It was then that I first saw My Lady.

She was tall. Just under six foot tall and slender, and as curvaceous as a model. Her hair was long, and blonde, it moved in silky waves from side to side. Her hair draped gracefully to the small of her back. Her hair was straight and cut squarely at its point of termination. I concluded that based on the tone of her flawless skin that it was her natural color.

She glided down the stairs, made eye contact with me, and stopped on a landing. She gestured for me to stand. I obediently complied. Her eyes danced over me. I felt as if I was being appraised. The Lady smiled as if pleased by my performance and my appearance. She continued to descend the stairs. I was startled by her beauty, and by her youthful appearance. I had expected someone much older.

She could not be older than forty, perhaps younger?
I thought. It was hard to gauge, somehow she seemed ageless.
How could this be?
I thought.
Madison said that he had been with the Lord and Lady for fifteen years.
It didn't add up in my mathematical mind.

She reached the bottom of the stairs, she paused to open a small leather book, and placing her finger on a page, she glanced at spot in the book, and then at me.

"Miss Sibyl Smith I presume?" She waited for my answer.

I cleared my throat and whispered. "Yes." But nothing came out of my mouth. The woman smiled and allowed a tiny giggle.

"Oh Sibyl, my dear girl, don't be so nervous. I don't bite. Perhaps a nibble on occasion, but for now let's you and I try again. You are Miss Sibyl Smith I presume?"

I retuned the beautiful woman's smile, grateful for the ice breaker that she initiated. "Yes, I'm Sibyl My Lady," I giggled. "Thank you for granting me this interview."

It seemed so easy to call her My Lady, and so very natural. She exuded elegance and a mature breeding that came so easy to one of genuine aristocracy. I curtsied a little, bound by the restriction of my tight skirt. I even bowed my head in a sign of respect. It seemed the appropriate thing to do, standing in her presence, and in awe of the opulence of her vast Estate.

"Well then good. We are off to a splendid start. I prefer to be addressed as My Lady, or Lady Julia. Welcome to my home Miss Sibyl. I trust you found the ride with Madison most pleasant?"

"Oh yes, My Lady. Madison is so very charming. The ride was wonderful. I must admit it was a first for me, being in a Bentley and a Bentley limo at that, and the Estate, oh my, the grounds are so beautiful my eyes could barely soak it all in, and then this mansion and then seeing you....."

I was running at the mouth and I could not seem to stop myself. I hung my head. I could feel the heat on my face. I could never disguise my blushing, and when it happened my cheeks became the same color as my hair.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to ramble on so. Please forgive me My Lady. It's just that I'm very excited about the position you are looking to fill."

"But you don't really know what the position entails? Do you sweet Sibyl?"

My mind become vacant. I struggled to answer. The Lady could see my predicament.

"Why don't you follow me into my study Sibyl? We can discuss the position and the requirements of the service that I demand of the successful applicant. And relax, you have little to fear at this stage. We both have choices. Today we have choices. We will see about tomorrow."

The Lady crossed the room. She took my hand in hers and led me like a child into her study. She stopped at a leather wingback chair that faced her desk.

"Take your seat Sibyl."

She walked slowly around the simple desk. My eyes followed her. Her posture was perfect and she moved with the grace of a ballet dancer. It was as if she were gliding. She wore a floor length white pleated skirt and it was sheer enough that I could see her sculptured legs move effortlessly beneath the soft fabric. A wide black belt encircled her thin waist. She wore a long sleeve lavender silk blouse that rubbed softly against her perfect skin. She wore no bra. I could see her nipples moving ever so gently inside the silk fabric. My Lady was dressed for comfort, and she was simply breathtaking.

She seated herself opposite me. I could see my letter and my resume laying on the desk in front of her.

"I am looking for one special girl. Could you be that girl Sibyl?”

The question was rhetorical. She was not expecting me to answer. The Lady was musing aloud as she read my resume.

"Your academic credentials are worthy. Congratulations on your achievements. I'm confident that your math skills will be suitable for keeping track of the expenses of the Estate. However I'm most concerned with you as a person Sibyl. Are you creative? Can you anticipate my needs? My needs are many and they will include services beyond mathematics. Are you able to take direction Sibyl? What is your comfort zone? What limits do you have if you were chosen as a woman in my service? Should I be concerned? Tell me Sibyl, why should I consider you?"