"Crazy Master" (11)
Count Bellunita receives many letters. I don't know the senders, but most of their content is related to questions about Vincent's well-being. Invitations to dinner parties and parties also come.
But the count never answered any of them. Even when they were brought to him, he tore the letters into pieces as soon as he picked them up.
Among the letters that constantly arrived, one sender stood out.
"Violet."
Is this a girl's name?..
Letters from her arrived every day, but they were not given to Vincent.
Isabella ordered me to keep these letters separately. “Should I pay attention to this sender?” She seems to be sincerely concerned about the master, so why can’t her letters be given to the count? Although Vincent won't read them. She waits endlessly for an answer in vain. Nevertheless, letters from “Violet” had already filled the entire top drawer of the chest of drawers.
And I also accidentally found one strange envelope with the inscription:
“Are you still here?”
-...
I stumbled upon it while shoveling ashes out of the fireplace. Gold letters were preserved on a charred piece of paper. The words sparkled in the sun and looked so beautiful and elegant.
Then, I found another one, written in the same handwriting and ink:
“How are you doing?”
This phrase was written on a high quality thick paper envelope. It's strange that there was no letter inside.
“Does this man write directly on the envelope because he knows Vincent never opens it?”
Letters with golden letters continued to arrive every day. Of course, I didn't answer them. And Vincent didn't even know about them.
But one day, on Isabella’s instructions, I answered such a letter. She told me to write something simple, and all that came out was:
"I'm fine."
I thought for a long time whether this was an appropriate answer by the standards of aristocrats, but in the end, immersed in caring for the master, I simply forgot about it. I remembered him again when I received an unexpected answer.
The letters were still written in gold ink, that elegant handwriting. This time the words were not on the envelope, but on the paper inside.
"The weather is nice here."
"And what?" I was puzzled by the cryptic message, but what caught my attention was the last word, which looked slightly blurry. Upon closer inspection, the entire envelope looked wet, as if from tears.
Was this man crying because he was happy to receive an answer? Can't be.
I was curious, but Isabella said there was no need to answer this time, so I didn’t write anything. Then these letters began to arrive every day, without interruption, with the same message. This man seemed to insist on an answer.
Finally Isabella got me to write a response again. I tried to write as casually as last time, but ended up deep in thought. I remembered the traces of tears on the paper. I looked out the window, thinking that this time I need to write about something abstract. Noticing the buds on the tree, I moved my feather.
“The buds have already bloomed on the branches.”
I sent another letter, and another, and another. So I began a correspondence with a person whom I did not know at all. The content remained the same. After the first answer, there were no more traces of tears.
“I’m still fine today.”
I wrote this on the day when an unusual incident occurred at the estate.
Waking up this sunny morning, I was terrified of the next day when I would have to endure my terrible master. I put on my maid's dress as usual, pulled my hair into a tight bun and opened the door.
- Vincent!
I was distracted by an unfamiliar voice.
Standing right next to me, in front of my master's room, was a man I had never seen before. It was a tall man in a hat who knocked on the door and persistently called for the gentleman.
- Vincent! Open the door!
I looked puzzled at the man who continued to knock on the door, hoping for an answer. As if sensing my gaze, he turned his head, and when he saw me, his brown eyes widened.
The moment of mutual exploration came: both the stranger and I looked each other up and down, wondering who was standing in front of him.
It seems that he has already formed his first impression of me.
- Oh, a new maid? – he asked.
As if in response to the word “new,” I immediately bowed. This has already become my habit.
- Nice to meet you. My name is Paula.
I was taught to bow until I heard a response to the greeting. You cannot straighten your back until they answer you if your interlocutor is higher in status than you.
- Ah.
The man let out a short sigh and approached me. The shiny toe of a shoe came into my field of vision. The man took my hand and squeezed it lightly.
I look up in surprise, he leans down slightly, putting one hand behind his back, and lightly kisses my palm.
- Nice to meet you, madam.
He has a pleasant voice. He raised his head slightly and I met his gaze. Wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes.
– Рад нашей встречи. My name is Ethan Christopher.
“Ah... Yes...” I answered stupidly, trying to collect my thoughts.
His next movements were very graceful. He straightened his back and let me go. My hand was still floating in the air when he pulled away. The back of my hand burned from the touch of his lips.
– Vincent locked the door, do you think you can open it?
- Ah...
I backed away from him and lowered my hand. Scratching the back of my hand, I headed towards the door.
There were times, very rare, when Vincent's door was locked. I always wondered how he locks it, if there is only a lock from the inside, and Vincent never gets out of bed. But then I learned that if I pulled one of the many ropes hanging from the wall next to his bed, the door would lock itself.
Small ropes ran up and down the wall like snakes. At first I didn't pay attention to them because the room was usually very dark and I was too busy with Vincent. But recently, having carefully examined the room, I noticed them. The rope he pulled to lock the door stretched from the wall all the way to the doorway.
When I first saw it, I couldn’t believe my eyes and didn’t understand why it was needed. But Vincent told me that he installed it in case something dangerous happened while he was alone. When I first saw this mechanism in action, I was so intrigued that I asked him questions about the design. But the gentleman did not answer them, and soon I lost interest. Probably, the other ropes on the walls were also intended for the door, only to open it.
Isabella gave me a set of spare keys for such occasions. Since I am responsible for the cleanliness of the annex, I must have easy access to all rooms. So I used the keys when Vincent locked the door.
I dug into my apron pocket and pulled out a spare key. Unlocking the door and turning the knob, I realized that I had not asked the guest who he was related to Vincent.
- Um, sir, to see you...
At that moment something flew through the slightly open door. Then there was the sound of breaking glass, and I, having forgotten what I wanted to say, never finished the sentence.
Ethan turned his head towards the sound, looking shocked. I also saw what it was - a glass vase that broke against the wall. It was clear who abandoned her.
An angry voice came from the darkened room.
- Close the door.
"Looks like it's getting dangerous."
I frowned, then looked at Ethan, his eyes still glued to the broken glass. I saw a million thoughts flash across his impassive face.
“It’s no wonder he’s so shocked,” I thought, “if this is his first time encountering this crazy count.” Shaking my head, I take a step into the room, and something immediately flies out of it and smashes against the wall again. This time it's a glass. I left him so he could drink some water, and now he's throwing it at him in another fit of hysterics.
I walked in and slammed the door behind me. I wouldn't want to put my guest in danger.
- There is a young gentleman standing at the door.
- Tell him to leave.
-Who is he to you?
How could this man know that Vincent was in a separate annex? Usually the guests who came to see him would come to the main mansion because they assumed he would be there.
Due to circumstances, Vincent lived in the annex, so it was the butler's responsibility to greet guests at the mansion. When he was absent, Isabella took his place.
But the man was standing right at the door of the gentleman’s room, where he was currently living.
- It's none of your business. Get him out of here.
- Mister.
- You leave too.
Why is he so grumpy again?
At that moment there was a knock on the door.
- Vincent.
It was the voice of a man named Ethan. He seemed to calm down a little. I looked at Vincent, he closed his eyes and seemed to have decided to pretend that he was sleeping.
“Vincent, let me look at your face.” We haven't seen each other for a long time, don't you want to meet me?
-...
- I just want to see you.
What kind of atmosphere is this? These two have some kind of strange relationship.
- Just don’t overthink things for yourself.
– I didn’t mean to.
“I can tell what you're thinking just by the sound of your breathing.”
- Don't make things up.
I turned to grab the food, but then realized that I hadn't brought breakfast. I didn’t have water with me to wash my master, or fresh clothes... I forgot everything in this unexpected commotion.
- I'll bring you something to eat.
- I have no appetite.
- Please wait.
- I said I'm not hungry!
I ignored Vincent's scream and opened the door. I had to come face to face with Ethan. The man peered into the room. I quickly closed the door, blocking his view.
- Sorry, sir. The gentleman said he doesn't want to see you.
“Oh no, I really want to meet him.” I need to tell him something!
The last phrase was not addressed to me, but still there was no answer.
Ethan slumped his shoulders helplessly. Trying to put a smile on his disappointed face, he continued speaking.
- I'll stay here for a few days.
***
– Quite a long time has passed since our last meeting, Isabella.
- Long time no see, Ethan.
Ethan walked into the living room and greeted Isabella warmly. Isabella answered him familiarly, taking the hat from his hands. Judging by the close relationship between them, this man was not just a guest.