Closure

I knew that this would be the last time I'd walk these halls. I slung the duffel bag full of all my worldly possessions over my shoulder and decided I would make my departure as quick and painless as possible. I would miss this place, but I was finally ready to take my leave.

I hadn't turned the first corner into the main corridor when I ran into Marie -- or rather, when she ran into me. She collapsed against my chest, whimpering and on the verge of tears. When she looked up at me, I saw that her sparse makeup had been running for some time, and had no doubt smeared all over my good traveling shirt.

"Oh please, Charles. You can't go. You mustn't. What are we going to do without you?"

I chuckled sarcastically. "Likely, the same as you'd done before I arrived."

"But everything was so much better when you came, it won't be the same at all!"

"Probably not. But all good things must end in time."

She began to wail. I blushed. "That's a stupid, terrible thing to say! If they must, then... then so shall I!" She pulled out the hairpin keeping her auburn tresses back and poised it at her chest.

I had expected this from her, and deftly snatched the pin out of her hands. "Marie, please. Don't be childish. Life is fleeting, without you having to help it along."

She began sobbing and stammering incoherently.

"Change is a part of life," I said soothingly, smoothing her hair back and replacing the pin in it. "Change fosters growth. And you may not feel like this change is for the better at the moment, but I can almost certainly guarantee that this won't seem like such an earth-shattering crisis in a week, a month, a year from now." I wasn't sure if I wasn't trying to convince myself as much as her, but it was enough to calm her to the point of coherency.

"How do you know?"

I smiled and shrugged. "I don't. But neither will you if you off yourself, silly girl."

She sniffled, dabbing at her face with a lacy handkerchief. "Well, I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am, dear." Elena, the maid, came around the corner just then. Before I could ask for her assistance, she took Marie by the shoulders and gave me a dutiful nod.

"Now, now, young miss, master Charles has business to attend to, let's not keep him from it, hmm?"

I called out my thanks to her as they disappeared around another corner. I would never see either of them again.

I chuckled to myself as I made my way down the servants' stairway and into the kitchen. I would miss Marie's girlishness, her antics, and perhaps even her hysterics. She gave me a sense of purpose, as I sought to soothe her psychoses, but I knew that that was no way to live. Certainly so, as it was not my profession.

I was met, then, by the family butler making his rounds. "Good afternoon, Charlie. I gather you've made all the necessary arrangements for your departure?"

"Just about all of them, Wilford, thank you."

"Could I perhaps trouble you for one last cup of coffee, young sir?"

"No, thank you, Wilford, but I appreciate it as always."

It was hard to determine his expression just then. Wilford had always been difficult to read in all the time I've known him, but I suppose that's an important skill of lifelong servitude. For my sake, I imagined his visage to be one of subtly wistful sadness with a touch of disdain.

"As it pleases you, then."

Without another word, nor affectation of his demeanor, he gave a slight bow and continued on with his routine. I decided then that I would rather live in spartan modesty than maintain a house of such stately splendor. I wanted a home full of warmth and joy, and I wanted to share it with people who gave freely of their happiness. If that meant turning down my own sheets and preparing my own meals, such would be a small price for unguarded cheerfulness.

Though it was my last day at Greensworth Manor, I still could not bring myself to use the front doors. Exiting the rear into the gardens, I caught a glimpse of the Lady, garbed in a sheer white silken gown, sitting beside the fountain. Her unapproachable beauty was twofold in the reflecting pool, and I dared not disturb her meditative quietude. I made to creep past her when the gentle brush of his touch grazed my neck. Despite the summer heat, I shivered.

"Leaving without saying goodbye, darling?"

I answered without averting my gaze from the Lady, nor turning around. "Only to make my leave as unobtrusive as possible." I added, pointedly, "Sir."

"Well," he said with an audible smirk, "I'm glad some old habits die hard. It will be nice to know I've made an... impression on you." Adam traced a finger across the small of my back, along one of many thin rivulets of scar tissue.

The Lady looked up from the fountain, staring away and into the distance longingly. She still seemed to have not seen either of us. "I beg your pardon, sir, but your wife will notice."

"Perhaps some day. But not today." He took hold of my shoulder and turned me about, swiftly and forcibly. I was unable to resist. "You could have been a part of this, Chaz. I could have given you everything."

"I see now, sir, that the only person I can count on to give me what I want, and what I need, is myself." I brushed his hand away, but he caught me at the wrist.

"I know I can't change your mind, but I promise that you'll regret walking out on me."

Much to his surprise, and mine, I pushed him away. "Another promise you'll never fulfill."

He stormed inside, slamming the door behind him, and I cringed. I looked over again at the fountain to see that, to my relief, the Lady had apparently been undisturbed by the commotion. I turned away to make my leave.

"Charles," she called out. I froze.

"Yes, m'lady?" I turned slowly. A soft smile played across her lips with her head tilted slightly askance, like one might look at an endearingly piteous puppy, as she walked over to me.

"I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you for everything you've done in service to my beloved." A reply caught in my throat. "It is simply his way. And I want you to know that I harbor no resentment towards you or your station," she explained reassuringly. If there was any malice in her voice, I could not detect it.

"Why do you stay? There must be a better way to live, m'lady. If I may be so presumptuous."

"Rather presumptuous indeed, for a man of your trade," she laughed. "But to humor you a response, I cannot judge a man for his inclinations or carnal desires. His intent is not of malice, even if he appears to be distressingly misguided."

"This arrangement ill befits me, m'lady. You are a stronger person than I to endure it."

"As one who must constantly turn a blind eye to his shortcomings, I can understand your decision. But he is a part of me as much as I am a part of him. Dedication and resignation are mutually exclusive. Perhaps one day you might discover that for yourself, Charles."

"Would that I shared your optimism, m'lady."

"When you find yourself in a situation that fully meets with your satisfaction, perhaps you might."

We bade one another farewell, and as I took the last few steps off the estate, I considered her words carefully. I decided that the entirety of Greensworth Manor was a sordid place, but resolved never to forget all that I had learned there. People are, after all, ultimately driven by the same base impulses, regardless of their position in life.

I returned home to the brothel, soothed by the familiarity of my own sheets.