It was a desire to redefine a space that she was to occupy now, a space that she wanted to make hers as well, creating a home that would resonate with warmth, elegance and the hope of a future that would bring at least mutual respect, if not joy and happiness.
Several days passed in this flurry of change, and Phyllis had to admit that she was enjoying focusing on something else other than the fact that she was sentenced to a life she never wanted for herself. The garden work gave her a newfound purpose. The library was now ordered so that it was easy to find what one was looking for, instead of titles and authors scattered about the chamber in all directions. And as she strolled through the mansion’s corridors, she could feel a sense of accomplishment and even joy that this would be her new home.
A part of her started to believe that things didn’t need to be all that bad. She simply had to change her perspective slightly and adjust herself to her new surroundings. However, that morning, the butler interrupted her breakfast apologetically, bowing before her with his hand bent at the elbow in front of him.
“I beg your pardon, but His Grace requests your presence in his study as soon as you are done with your meal, my lady,” he spoke courteously as if he regretted every word he was saying. That was how Phyllis knew that she had done something wrong.
She nodded immediately, placing her fork and knife down with as much grace as she possessed. “I shall be up immediately.”
“His Grace said to finish your meal if you have not already,” the butler reminded her gently.
Phyllis smiled. She didn’t want to say aloud that she had lost her appetite, and she would not be able to eat another bite of that scone she had started to enjoy moments ago. Not now that she had been accused of something she did not even know.
“That is quite all right,” she assured him, getting up and straightening an invisible wrinkle on her gown.
Whatever she had to face, she was ready.
* * *
Alexander paced about his study nervously. The initial shock of Phyllis’ transformations quickly gave way to a storm of conflicting emotions. Fury, like a sudden tempest, surged within him, threatening to disrupt the carefully orchestrated calm of his world.
Alexander had been accustomed to the meticulous deign that had graced the estate for generations, and he was taken aback by the gardeners’ plans which revolved around a riot of colors and fragrances which he feared might assault his senses. As for the library, his sanctuary of quiet contemplation, he discovered a reorganized haven that no longer whispered familiar tales of his solitude. The intrusion into this sacred space left him feeling exposed, as if the walls themselves echoed the upheaval in his emotions. Even the stables, a place of quiet strength, bore the marks of change. Phyllis’ alterations, though well-intentioned, felt like an intrusion into a realm he considered his own – a place where the spirited gallop of horses mirrored the untamed spirit of his family.
In the midst of this aesthetic battlefield, Alexander’s fury swirled with confusion and hurt pride. The mansion, once a symbol of unyielding tradition, now stood as a testament to a clash of two worlds – a clash that mirrored the tumultuous union he found himself entangled in. But that wasn’t the worst of all. All these changes and renovations required funds… funds he did not have. Not yet, at least. And she was already spending them on all these renovations, without even asking him if he would allow them.
A knock on the door brought him back to the present moment.
“Yes?” he called out, and Phyllis appeared before him.
“Thank you for coming,” he said too officially, but he was trying to calm down his racing thoughts without sounding to enraged. After all, this was her home as well. But that still did not mean that she had the power to change it any way she saw fit. It showed disrespect and an utter lack of manners.
“Is something the matter?” she asked in a melodious voice, which almost made him forget why he had called her here for.
“As a matter of fact, it is,” he nodded. His voice, usually a steady baritone, now carried an edge of unmistakable displeasure. “What is the meaning of all these renovations, Phyllis?”
Phyllis, undeterred by the sternness in his tone, met his gaze with defiance. “Oh… well, I have merely added a touch of life to this estate. A home should reflect the spirit of those who inhabit it.”
His scolding only intensified. “This is not what a Woldaves estate should look like. You’ve upended centuries of tradition with your… whims.”
Unfazed, Phyllis returned his gaze with a steely resolve. “Tradition should not suffocate progress, Alexander. This mansion needs a breath of fresh air, a glimpse of life beyond its rigid walls.”
“Rigid or not, Phyllis, this costs money,” he snarled without meaning to. “Money you know I do not have.”
His eyes sparkled, and for a moment, he thought that he had made her cry. But he should have known better. She took a step closer to him, so that now, they were standing facing each other. She refused to look away even for a single moment, staring right at him, defiance etched all over her lovely face, which in this tense moment of rebelliousness only seemed to be even more lovely.
“I know that, Alexander,” she replied, without arguing. “I did not use your money. In fact, I had some savings of my own, and I usedthat. The staff assisted willingly, without additional compensation, because we all believed that you deserved a nice surprise.”
He had to admit that he wasn’t expecting this response. A moment of silence hung in the air. Then, something unexpected flickered in his gaze, a subtle acknowledgment of her efforts.
“You… used your own savings?” His tone was now softer, laced with a newfound understanding. He couldn’t understand why she would do such a selfless thing, after everything that had happened.
Phyllis simply nodded. “Yes. I wanted to make this place feel like home… for both of us. The staff worked and continues to work diligently under my guidance. I thought it would be a pleasant surprise, after… everything.”
The tension ebbed as his stern countenance softened. A hint of admiration replaced his earlier displeasure. “You took the initiative. I didn’t expect…”
Her eyes softened in return. “I know, but I wanted to contribute. This is my home, too, Alexander.”
As the last echoes of their heated exchange hung in the air, an unexpected silence descended. The world around them seemed to shrink, leaving only the space they occupied. Inadvertently, their steps brought them closer, the charged atmosphere leaving no room for personal boundaries. For a suspended moment, they stood in uncharted territory, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. The proximity, both magnetic and disconcerting, seemed to blur the lines between adversary and ally.
