The Moon's Curse

Chapter 4 - Swindon's Beast

SWINDON, MARCH 12th, 1872

“Again,” my piano teacher says in a monotone voice, and I barely resist the urge to frown. Mrs. Morgan sounds just as dull as the etude I have been learning for the past couple of hours. It makes me want to rip the keys off the instrument or cut the strings inside, so no one could ever play that awful music again. But I know my aunt would have my head if I did that. So, I take a deep breath and start over.

My fingers move slowly across the keyboard, trying to play as vividly as I can. But the etude was clearly composed to be boring and no matter how badly I want to bring it to life, I only make it sound even worse.

By the time I finish, Mrs. Morgan doesn’t look very pleased. Before she can say anything, I beat her to it, voicing my thoughts. “Mrs. Morgan, why don’t you teach me something faster? My fingers are well adjusted to the keyboard now, I could handle it.” It also wouldn’t make me feel the need to bang my head against the front lid each time I have to play another stupid slow etude again, but that would merely be an added benefit.

The teacher presses her lips together in disapproval. “Playing piano is a form of art. But there is a thin line between making art and playing for … passion. The latter is completely inappropriate, especially for a lady. You are going to learn what I decide to teach you and that is my final word,” she retorts, taking me aback with her forwardness. “Now play it again and we are finished for the day,” she then adds, sticking her nose even higher in the air. I nod like an obedient dog and place my fingers on the keyboard. I hope I manage to convince my aunt that these piano lessons are completely necessary, or else I am going to die of boredom.

I am relieved when Mrs. Morgan finally leaves the house. I rush over to the kitchen immediately, getting there just in time to help Felicity take food to our workers on the field. Her face brightens up as she sees me, and she shoos the maid, that is standing beside her, away. “No, for the last time, Marge, I don’t need your help. Sophie is going with me. Get yourself something to do in the kitchen, there is plenty of work for you.”

Marge sends me a quick offended look, but she doesn’t defy Felicity. My friend winks at me when she turns away, then hands me one of the baskets. We leave the kitchen through the back door in silence, and we don’t speak until we are far enough away from the house that no one can hear us.

“So, how was your piano lesson, Lady Acker?” Felicity teases me. I let out a long sigh, shaking my head.

“What is the first thing you think of, when you hear the word etude?” I answer her with a question. She furrows her eyebrows in confusion, watching me for a few moments, before turning her head forward and shrugging.

“I have no clue what that means, but it sounds incredibly tiring and dull,” she finally responds, making me chuckle with some sort of relief.

“And that is exactly how my piano lesson was,” I remark, making her laugh.

“Alright, that was a good one, I have to give you that,” she says, before sending me a short sideways glance. “Now … Are you ready for some more discreet seducing?” she wants to know, a smile tugging at her lips.

Her words make something flutter inside my stomach, and it isn’t a very pleasant feeling. In fact, as we’re approaching the hut, where the field workers eat, I am getting more and more nervous. I am clutching the handle of my basket so tightly, that it is probably going to leave a mark on the skin of my palm. I remind myself to release the grip a little, then reply to a very amused Felicity.

“No, I am in fact not, because I am never around boys. So, Lord help me. And forgive me,” I tell her, making her chuckle in response. Luckily, she doesn’t tease me any longer, but it doesn’t help with my nervousness either.

As we’re entering the hut, I am walking behind Felicity. The workers are so loud that we can already hear them talking outside and the topic of their conversation sparks my interest. It even makes me forget about what I came here for in the first place.

When she opens the door, the words become loud and clear. “… spotted nearby more than a couple of times already. Not from up close, so no one knows what it looks like. But by the sounds of it, it’s as big as a bear,” I hear one of the workers speak.

“A bear? Don’t embarrass yourself, lad. There aren’t bears in England, especially not around here. I think you might have had one too many,” another one says, mocking his companion. How peculiar. A bear in Swindon? I can hardly believe that to be possible.

“I am not saying it was a bear, I am saying it was as big as a bear! There is a difference. Besides, you know I don’t drink,” the first man says again. This time, Felicity already steps to the side and the two men finally come to my sight.

They are the only ones, who don’t notice me immediately, despite being seated right in front of our noses. The others are already quieting down, watching me with wide eyes, some already bowing their heads in respect.

The other man then laughs at his companion, who notices me just in that moment. “Oh, please, you can tell that lie to your wife, we all… Ouch!” the man yells out as his companion kicks him under the table. But he keeps staring at him angrily, not realizing that I am there. “What was that for? We all know that you … Oh. Milady, I am deeply sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he apologizes as he finally looks towards us, bowing his head.

“It is alright,” I tell him with a serious look on my face. My aunt has told me that no man is ever going to respect me if I keep smiling at him all the time. I look around the astonished faces of our workers, taking a deep breath before addressing them all together. “You must be famished,” I say, before heading to the table and starting to give out the food that we brought. My basket is filled with bread, so I go around the table first, while Felicity follows behind me with cheese and some late winter apples.

As we go around, I try my best to avoid looking at Ezra until I am right beside him. I have spotted him the moment Felicity stepped away and unblocked my view of the table. He was sitting right by the far edge, but I didn’t look directly at him. I pretended that I didn’t see him, no matter how desperately I wanted our eyes to meet.

Even as I am close to him, I don’t turn my head in his direction. Although I am more than tempted to do it. I can’t explain what it is about him, but something keeps calling out to me, urging me to get closer to him and get to know his scent.

I can feel the strange heat coming to my cheeks again and hope that the workers simply think that I have been walking too quickly. Because the closer I get to Ezra the more intense it becomes. By the time I finally reach him, I feel as if my face is going to burst into flames any moment now.

“Here you go,” I chime politely, just as I have with the other workers. But as he takes the bread out of the basket, he barely looks at me. He then remembers his manners and raises his gaze.

“Thank you,” he says with the deep melodic voice that enchanted me in the first place, and I find myself smiling. In the next moment, I already force the corners of my mouth to fall back down and quickly move on to the next worker.

As Felicity and I are finished, it is time to leave. I am waiting for her in the front, my gaze often jumping to Ezra. But he doesn’t even notice that I am looking at him. He is deeply in conversation with his colleagues, making me wonder if he is even interested in fooling around with me. Felicity has said that all boys his age want to have their fun with girls, no matter who they were or what they looked like. She said it is in their nature. So why does he keep avoiding the clear signs I am sending him?

Felicity sends me a meaningful look as she comes from the table, and I understand that it is time for us to leave. The gentlemen seem to be relieved that the Second Lady of the house won’t be breathing down their necks anymore, but I couldn’t care less about them.

As we turn around and I wait for Felicity to go through the door, I catch something curious in the window. It reflects some of the men’s faces and Ezra’s is amongst them. His head is turned towards the door, and I could swear his burning gaze is aimed straight at my back. For a moment, I imagine what would have happened if I accidentally touched his hand back when he took the bread out of the basket.

I linger around for a little longer, enjoying having his eyes pinned on me. As I finally close the door behind me, I smile to myself. It is good to know that Felicity isn’t wrong about boys. My friend seems to know exactly what I am thinking about, because she smiles back mischievously, saying: “I told you. They are all the same.”