Written By: Jenne

She stared at the large house that now towered above her tiny form.She became more afraid as she approached the large driveway. This was one of those grand old houses, Gothic in style, gargoyles on every parapet, and not a place that afforded any welcome from its outside spectre.

She had heard tales of this house since she was a babe and as she recalled them now it did little to calm her fear of the place. With a sense of apprehension she walked up the driveway and found the servant's/tradesman's entrance. She stood rooted to the spot gazing at the doorway. It was a huge door that stood between her and her fate.

Slowly she reached forward and grasped the huge doorknocker. She jumped back in fright as it thudded against the coarse, dense timber of the door. What to Estelle seemed like an eternity passed before the door slowly opened, creaking as it did so and causing her heart to flutter once more. The figure that greeted her was less welcoming than the house itself. He was a tall man, gaunt in appearance, and his skin was so pale and milky he looked to all the world as though it had been long since he had seen daylight.

She was almost pulled though the doorway by the man. He said not a word to her as he took her arm and began to guide her through the house. She heard the door slam behind them, a loud dull thud that filled her with dread. It sounded to Estelle as a prison gate would to a condemned man. She followed the tall figure, not knowing where she was being led but having no real wish to stay in the dark passages on her own. They reached a doorway and she was led down a small flight of stairs.

As they descended, her nostrils were met by the smell of food. She had not eaten since that morning when she had left the village, and she suddenly felt hungry. As they entered the room, it quickly became apparent that it was the kitchen of the house. A large round figure stood over an equally large pine table, busy making pastry, or some such thing. This must be the cook, Estelle quickly surmised, and the woman turned as they entered the kitchen. She was a portly figure,looking as though she had enjoyed the fruits of her labours to some excess. Even her kindly face was rounded, and as they entered she spoke to the man who had just brought Estelle in from the cold.

"The Master is waiting to greet the new maid," she said, adding,"pretty little thing, ain't she?"

She gave Estelle what seemed to be a friendly smile, the first the girl had encountered since entering the large house. "Put her things in her quarters and then straight to the Master with her!" With that, the cook quickly returned to her work.

Again Estelle was led by the tall, shadowy figure. This time they went down more steps and entered a small room. This apparently was to be her home during her service, although the man's silence gave her no clue.It was small and lacked a window, but at least it was hers.Placing the battered bag on the bed and her cloak on the peg behind the door, she began to feel better already. This was to be her own place, a luxury that had never been afforded her at home in the village. Mama had a large family and space had been at a premium there.She had had to share her room with three of her younger sisters. Perhaps service had it's benefits after all.

She was not allowed time to deliberate this point as once again she was ushered to the stairs. They ascended once more and again she followed without any exchange of words or even a look. The passages were dark and again apprehension began to invade her being. She shivered, as the passages were damp and cold, and she wished now that she had not removed her cloak.

Finally they came to a halt. Again a large door greeted her. The spectre that had lead her here knocked loudly, the sound echoing eerily around the passage in which they now stood. A voice commanded that they enter. The man quickly opened the door and escorted Estelle into the room. Her eyes darted around the room, surveying the splendour within. It was opulent, grand beyond Estelle's wildest dreams. Everything in the room shouted wealth as her eyes struggled to take in the rich sights that greeted them, from the chandeliers above her to the carpets beneath her feet.

Quickly she sensed another presence in the room. Sitting in a large chair in front of the roaring fire was a man, slimly built as far as Estelle could tell. She was ushered round to face him and dipped in a nervous curtsy. She could see that he was indeed slim and judged that his face was kindly looking. She could detect no malice there. He was pallid in complexion, his face full of deep lines, but his eyes possessing a warmth that seemed out of keeping with the rest of this house.

Estelle was unsure why she felt so uncomfortable as he stared at her.He seemed to be studying her. His eyes traversed her body and face for what to Estelle seemed an eternity. Finally he addressed the man who had brought her to him.

"More pleasing to the eye than I expected," he said. It was as though Estelle did not exist, even though he was discussing her. "Cavendish," he continued, still not looking at her, "see to the girl's needs! A bath is order, I think. Then bring her back to me!

""Of course, Master." This was the first time Estelle had heard the man speak, his accent cumbersome and his speech slow. It seemed to match his frame perfectly. Estelle wondered what would happen to her next. She felt so small and insignificant as she stood in the large room. She had little idea of what her duties would entail.

She contemplated this as she was once again ushered from the warmth of the room and into the cold, damp passages of the house. Mama had told her that she was to obey her Master at all times, however strange the requests he made upon her may seem. That was her only concern now, to please her Master.

They reached the kitchen and the kindly looking cook smiled once more as they entered. Her face was full of warmth and Estelle took comfort from it.

"A bath for the child?" The question was directed at the man she now knew to be called Cavendish.

"That is correct, Cook. I shall