CHAPTER TWO

The dining room continues the estate's aesthetic of ultra-modern excess. The table is of granite suspended on a single polished aluminum leg that runs the length of the table's center. The chairs are of the swiveling variety and mounted on single aluminum legs as well. They are upholstered in white leather or some artificial substitute for leather. The floor is of white marble tile and the walls are painted a rather terrifying shade of mauve that I don't understand at all. The light comes from… somewhere. The ceiling seems to glow, but so do the edges of the walls and the table itself. I want to ask, but I'm afraid of sounding foolish.

The food, thank Heaven, is quite traditional and refreshingly American. The first course is a green salad, the appetizers are breaded mozzarella sticks served with marinara dipping sauce. Perhaps this is only because the children dine with us, but seeing something as mundane and human as cheese sticks relaxes me considerably. The main course is roasted pork served with steamed green beans, creamy mashed potatoes, gravy, and dessert. I am told that it will be a scoop of vanilla ice cream topped with chocolate sauce and whipped cream.

I am determined to take this opportunity to get to know the family, so when the main course is served, I ask Frederick, "How long have you and Catherine been married?"

I feel like that's an innocent question, but the way Catherine frowns when I ask it makes me wonder if I've committed some sort of horrible faux pas. Fortunately, Frederick doesn't seem to think so.

"Twenty years ago next month," he replies with a smile. "I hosted several of the competitors in the Geneva Fashion Show at the house. She was the one who caught my eye."

"Lucky me," Catherine interjects. She smiles, but it's as cold a smile as I've ever seen.

"Yes, well, you certainly seemed to think so at the time," Frederick remarks.

"How times change," she retorts.

She laughs after that, and Frederick joins her, but it's clear their laughter is forced. I notice the children don't laugh. Olivia pouts at the wall, and Ethan stares at his plate. He seems to have shrunk within himself. His withdrawal reminds me concerningly of Lucas Carlton, a young man I cared for over a year ago. In Lucas's case, his mother is overprotective and saps his strength away. In Ethan's case…

Well, it's too soon to tell. But one thing I will make a point of doing while living here is pulling the young man out of his shell.

"What about you, Mary?" Frederick asks. "Is there a Mr. Wilcox waiting somewhere for you?"

"If he is, then I sure wish someone would introduce us," I reply.

Frederick seems to find that hilarious. He throws his head back and laughs uproariously. I join him for a moment, then notice the way his wife and children react. They all seem to… lessen, somehow. Catherine's beauty takes on an even harder edge. Her tight-lipped frown and rigid shoulders make her appear her true age of forty-eight rather than the timeless goddess I see earlier. Olivia seems frozen in her sullenness, and Ethan looks like a candle about to go out.

"Well, Franz is single if you're interested," Frederick suggests. "He's already told me he likes the way you style your hair."

The closest I ever come to "styling" my hair is choosing to wear it up in a bun or loose over my shoulders. Today, I choose to wear it in a bun.

"Fred," Catherine interjects, casting him a warning glance.

"What? I'm just teasing her."

"Maybe you shouldn't," Catherine suggests.

Frederick's face darkens, and Catherine stiffens, but before any argument can develop, the door to the dining room opens, and a cheerful, buxom woman with curly brown hair, blue eyes and a rosy-cheeked smile steps inside carrying a platter topped with small bowls of ice cream.

"Claude wanted to bring these in, too," she announces, referring to the butler who served the previous courses, "but I couldn't resist the chance to see the children's faces light up."

She sets bowls in front of the children, then pulls back and places one hand on her hip while expertly balancing the rest of the ice cream in front of the other. "Now I've come all this way to watch your faces light up, and I'm not going to take these sullen frowns in return."

The change in the children is immediate and dramatic. Ethan blossoms like a sunflower, grinning and saying, "All the way from the kitchen to the dining room?"

The cook pats her belly and says, "Carry all this extra weight around for a day, and then tell me that's not a harrowing journey."

She turns to Olivia. The girl still frowns, but it's clear that she has to fight to retain that expression. The cook stares pointedly at her, and a smile cracks through her fa?ade. She rolls her eyes and says, "Thank you, Sophie," with exaggerated sarcasm.

The cook screws up her face and replies with similar exaggerated sarcasm. "You're welcome, Olivia."

This prompts a giggle from Olivia. She looks shocked that such a sound could escape her mouth.

Sophie places bowls in front of the parents and deliberately ignores the sullen expressions that have come to both of their faces. It's remarkable. The children have brightened, and the parents have shrunk, as though by Sophie's mere arrival they have lost all power over the dynamic of this meal.

I decide I like Sophie.

She turns to me, and I can't help but return her smile with one of my own. "And you must be Mary, our new governess. I've saved the biggest bowl for you." She sets the bowl in front of me, and it does indeed have the largest portion of ice cream. "You'll need it. Between these two fightings all the time"—she hooks a thumb at the sour-faced couple behind her—" and the children up to no good every time you turn your head, you'll come to appreciate the few small pleasures life affords you."

"Thank you, Sophie," Frederick says irritably. "An excellent meal as always."

She beams at him. "It's my pleasure, sir."

She prances back to the kitchen, and I notice Ethan and Olivia share a grin. The door closes, and though their grin fades and they return to their demure behavior of before, they no longer appear diminished in the face of their parents' tension.

"I apologize for Sophie," Frederick tells me. "She's worked for the family for many years. Sometimes, she thinks she's part of it."

I'm not sure how to respond to that, so I only smile and say, "That's all right, sir."

Catherine pushes her chair abruptly back from the table and stalks from the dining room. Frederick glares down at his ice cream for a moment, then plasters a smile on his face. "Well, I should let you get to know the children a little better. You'll be working closely with them after all. Don't worry about their bedtimes tonight. You get some rest, and you can start work tomorrow morning."

He stands and leaves the table, his and Catherine's ice cream left to melt.

The children stare at their own ice cream, their faces downcast. The brief burst of energy that Sophie's presence gives them has been snuffed out by their parents' petulance.

I must try to cheer them up. Taking a cue from Sophie, I gesture toward their parents' untouched bowls. "If you two aren't quick enough to claim those for yourselves, I'll be happy to make a home for them."

I'm afraid I'm not as successful as Sophie is. Olivia tries to smile, but her smile dies halfway. Ethan takes a halfhearted spoonful of his ice cream and then pushes it away. "That's okay. I'm not hungry for dessert."

Olivia stands. "Me either. Good night, Mary. It was nice to meet you." She smiles bitterly. "Welcome to our home."

I allow them to leave. I am too soon arrived in their lives to intervene. I will get to know them better, and hopefully, by building rapport and gaining their trust, I can establish a relationship that will allow me to help them overcome the challenges that come with being the children of unhappy parents.

I finish my ice cream and then start to clear the dishes. I've learned that most servants possess a sixth sense when it comes to their duties, and Sophie is no exception. No sooner do I reach for one of their bowls when the door bursts open, and Sophie rushes into the room.

"No, no!" she calls, "Shoo! I'll clear the dishes. You'll have enough on your hands with the children. There's no need for you to busy yourself with other work."

I allow her to stack the dishes on a platter and say, "I'm sorry about the ice cream. It really was quite delicious."

Sophia shrugs. "I didn't expect them to eat it. I tried with the children, but Fred and Cathy were especially bad tonight."

"I take it their marriage is unhappy?"

" They're unhappy," Sophie replies. "As for their marriage, it's doubtful they even have one anymore." She looks at me and says, "But you don't need to concern yourself with that. Just do your best with the children. They're good kids. They just need kindness."

"I find that's true of all children. Even the adult ones."

She laughs heartily at that and smiles at me. "I think you and I will get along well, Mary. Even if I can't agree with you on that last point." She takes the platter full of dishes to the kitchen, and just before she disappears behind the door, she meets my eyes and says, "Welcome to Jensen Estate."

I head to my room and try to digest my first impressions of the family. Clearly, Frederick and Catherine have a strained relationship that impacts their children. It must have been going on for some time for them to be so affected by it. Even the servants, with the exception of Sophie, appear moody and withdrawn.

I will have my work cut out for myself here.

As I prepare for bed, I feel the old pull to discover, or rather to uncover. I have never been a fan of secrets, and the secrets hidden behind these walls are wreaking havoc on the children I've been charged to protect. I must learn what these secrets are if only to know better how to protect the children from the poison that is invading their homes.

At least there are no rumors of murder at this estate. I suppose every cloud has a silver lining.