Catastrophe II.

The garden was his favourite place. Usually, the arid air of the afternoon should travel the neat blend of floral fragrances upon the yard. He wasn't wrong in believing that. His senses could detect it the instant he set foot in that place.

Adele, actually Adelaide, his precious 'Goldilocks', was the reason he was down here. If Simon had done a good job, he, Rochester would not have come down at all. But then he knew the error did not lie with Simon: the butler wasn't incompetent in any degree, it was the girl. Despite her innocence and blinding puerile beauty, she had a slight contrast in character. Not a flaw, as Rochester found that hers could be easily excused. She was outrageously bold not that it was an unlikely characteristic for her age, but her stubbornness wasn't latent at all. Whenever Adelaide felt her minor rites infringed upon, she became this way: passively aggressive while actively refusing to act on the command.

Rochester saw Simon break a sweat, as his mood turned bleak. Poor guy! He must have put a lot of effort into coaxing little Adele out of the garden. But as always, Rochester knew how far her insolence could go. This was why Grace, her governess, should be summoned after this.

Rochester growled, "Adelaide, why are you proving stubborn? If Simon came out here to send you back to your room, didn't you consider how it was my doing? I sent him to get you. Disobeying him is hurtful to my ego."

"You are back…"

As if his voice had suddenly become the pacifier she needed, she scrammed up to her feet from her kneeling position where she'd been tending to the plants: her little buddies.

Adelaide, with a smile as shy as the sun, in that burning afternoon, sprinted a couple of yards to reach him in a dart. She seemed excited. Of course, he would know because he had been away for a few days and she'd missed him. 

He, on the other hand, had also missed her. More than a lot. But for some personal reasons, he wasn't allowed to let it show.

"Stop!"

Rochester's shout halted her in her tracks like he knew it would. Seeing her wear a long face that told of her sadness for feeling deprived, should have impelled him to change his manner. Besides all she wanted to do was hug him, but an age-long grievance with the girl's mother would not allow him.

"I don't need your pity face in front of me, Goldilocks."

"Then I am not your Goldilocks!" Adelaide winced and folded her arms. Stamping her feet against the soil was guarantee that she wouldn't move an inch. She twisted her mouth, very annoyed. In the man's opinion, she only looked further beautiful. It was a Roxanne-Clarke secret, her mother's. Only Roxanne could be as beautiful when she got upset.

Well, Rochester had thought so before he met Giselle.

"You know what? I agree with you, Adelaide, you are not my Goldilocks…"

"Boss…" Simon put in. 

"Silence!" Rochester held up his hand, still facing Adelaide. Her supple lids started to brood the tears. "Your outburst does not move me, child. I don't like insolent little girls. Now, go to your room."

"I will not!"

"Look, Adele… Don't, don't make me…"

"Lock me up in my room all week?" She was truly putting up a fight with her emotions. "I will rebel."

"Like you are already doing and it stinks—"

"Boss…"

"— Get up to your room. Now! I have a guest and she mustn't see you."

"Well, s-sh… sh… sh… sh… you…"

"Now, isn't that you losing your tongue? Whenever Adelaide behaves bad, her speech eludes her."

"D-d-do-don…"

"Go to your room," said Rochester in a stern command, "Now!"

"Y-y… y-y-y… Not my dad!"

She yanked the flower in her hands away and sprinted up the walks, wailing.

…

Meanwhile, up in the first storey, Louisa felt her jaw drop at the sight of what she'd witnessed. Did that happy, and cheerful girl of just a minute ago, just walk out of the garden, crying? No. She hadn't walked, but she had run, sprinted out of there. 

It couldn't have been Simon, was it? Louisa thought. Simon could not have been the reason for the little girl's sudden outburst. Then, was it that man? He was a bully?

For goodness sakes! Why couldn't she get a proper view of the bloody sadist who had upset the helpless child? Why would he not move from the spot?

Oh, thought she. Perhaps, he knew someone had to be watching. Hence, his indecision to leave from there?

Isn't he being too much though? And Simon… Simon could not talk him down for his misbehaviour?

"Where is Rochester?" Louisa cried, agitatedly. "I have to report this case to him."

But if she were to ever do that, wouldn't he demand a description from her? Of the man's attributes at least. What would she say to him then, if she could only see the felon's back!

Knock…knock!

The banging noise crushed her ears faster than her mind could come to terms with the reason for it.

"Who is it?" 

"Um… my lady, it is um… Mrs. Phelippe ordered me to bring it up. Um… I wonder if you are angry because I um…"

Louisa burst the door open before she could finish her talk.

"Food!" Louisa exclaimed, seeing the variety of dishes dancing elegantly in the tray she held. 

The blend of spices was simply too immense to ignore. It settled her resolve. The aroma was enough to remind her how hungry she had felt a minute ago.

"Brightfin…"

"Um, yes. Um… that's me."

"I didn't ask to know your name. Why are you late?"

"I um… it was a lot. And I um… Mr. Fischer needed me down the back. And um… I didn't —"

"Whatever. Just bring the food in," Louisa said with a folding of her arms. "And don't go spilling the juice on the table cloth!"

"No. Um… Ms. Giselle… Hazel… I—"

"Just leave."

"Okay."

Brightfin left after dutifully arranging the dishes for Louisa to dine first.