*
Layna watched Jezebel as the woman yelled for the driver to hurry. As if he could move any faster on these crowded streets, Layna thought disgustedly. She resisted the urge to shake her head at the woman before spending the next few minutes imagining what the tart would have tasted like since Jezebel seemed content to ignore her.
Unexpectedly, Jezebel giggled to herself. This time, Layna couldn't help but look at her strangely. Getting new furniture can't be that exciting. She just replaced the whole library last year. Layna added sarcastically to herself, Charged to her father's account, of course. Despite the look, the woman was still paying no attention to her whatsoever and that was fine with Layna. Hopefully, when they arrived back at the manor she would be able to catch up on the chores she'd missed during this little shopping trip.
Neither of the women said a word for the remainder of the ride home, but Jezebel never lost her smile. As they pulled into the driveway, she turned to Layna and commanded, “Prepare the library for entertaining. I think tea and some light fare will do. The cook should be able to whip something right up. You come along too; I want you there in case my guest needs anything.”
Inwardly Layna winced. It seemed that her chores would continue to pile up, but outwardly she simply nodded. It would be taken care of, somehow. As soon as the carriage came to a halt, Jezebel practically leaped out in her mysteriously excited state, and Layna followed suit, making a beeline for the kitchen. The cook would rant at her about the short notice, but Layna wouldn't have time to listen. There were chairs to move around, tea to heat, and a number of other preparations to be made. Jezebel was very particular about the arrangements when she had guests over: One single flower in a vase on the table, her nonfunctional – but prize winning! – sheepdog, long past its prime, must be lying like a statue by the foot of her chair – a feat which oftentimes took several tries to coax him there until Layna finally had to resort to dragging his limp form to the correct place – and wine must always be available, no matter the time of day.
Sweat threatened to start dripping down her face by the time that she had everything ready, and it was barely in time. Just as she was taking her place next to the tea service tray, a knock sounded at the door and voices echoed through the hallway.
“Jezebel, how are you?” asked a high pitched voice, and Layna wrinkled her nose as she recognized it as belonging to Renee. Renee was one of Jezebel's typical friends, with absolutely no backbone and no other friends. The perfect person for Jezebel to prey upon. Renee's favorite pastime was parroting Jezebel's words to anyone who would listen, even those people who had already heard it from Jezebel herself.
The two of them swept into the room, their billowy dresses flowing around them as they seated themselves, pointedly ignoring Layna. She busied herself pouring them tea and adding the exact number of sugar cubes and milk that each liked. Jezebel didn't like to have her conversation interrupted by questions from the help. It was better that Layna memorized the preferences. Each took their teacup without even a look in her direction. Layna listened absently to their chatter, watching carefully for motions that might indicate that they wanted their tea refilled or to be brought a cake that the cook had miraculously baked in time.
“I couldn't quite believe,” Jezebel was saying, “that he had the nerve to call me Jezebel, as if we were friends or even close to the same status.”
Both women laughed, and Layna found it difficult not to laugh incredulously at the two of them. After initially ignoring her, Layna noticed that Renee kept glancing over at her, and she glued her eyes to the wall to make sure she never made eye contact. She could feel the woman's eyes scrutinizing every inch of her, and Layna wondered what she was thinking. She didn't have to wonder long.
The next words out of the woman's mouth were, “What are you doing with this strumpet in your household? No offense to you, Jezebel, but really she looks like she could be one of the ladies down at the Golden Girls.”
Jezebel took a sip of tea before answering, and when she did her voice was cold. “No, my dear Renee, she's not nearly pretty enough to be one of those girls. Are you, my dear? Nor do you have enough class.”
She directed the last to Layna who brought her eyes to their conversation for just a moment, meeting the black beady eyes of Renee and then the deep brown of Jezebel, which laughed at her from beneath their depths, before she answered, “Of course not, ma’am. A simple peasant like me could never dream of the beauty that you ladies achieve, nor even come as close as the Golden Girls.”
Gryffon was passing the room just then and stopped in to grab a cake. Taking a bite, he closed his eyes in mock ecstasy, and he shook the cake in Layna's direction. “You really will have to tell the cook how wonderful these are, simply delicious.”
“Well hello, Gryffon. You know Renee, of course,” Jezebel greeted him, paying no heed to his comment.
Renee stood and extended her hand to him. He took it gallantly. “Of course, how are you, Renee?” he asked politely.
She giggled as he quickly passed his lips over her plump hand, bringing a flush to her cheeks.
He humored her with a quick smile and asked, “And what's the gossip about today?”
Renee opened her mouth to reply, but Jezebel cut her off, saying, “We were just discussing whether or not we think Devon took a trip down to the Golden Girls brothel to pick up this maid.” She gestured to Layna, narrowing her eyes, and asked, “What do you think?”
Gryffon looked over at Layna and raised an eyebrow, “Well, if she was at the Golden Girls, I could hardly blame Devon for it. If she was there, that's where I'd be too.”
Layna couldn't control the quirk of her lips into the tiniest of smiles as Gryffon winked at her, though she was incredulous that he would make such a comment. Luckily, he blocked her view of Jezebel and by the time he moved she had regained her solemn look of indifference.
“Well, ta ta ladies, I'm off for the hunt. It's prime time for those big bucks to be out and I mean to bag myself a big rack,” he gave Renee a stiff bow and nodded to Jezebel.
Layna fought hard to control the laughter that threatened to emerge. He turned his twinkling eyes towards her and winked again before whisking himself out of the room. Layna stole a glance at Jezebel, and could tell that the woman was raging underneath her cool exterior.
A chill ran down Layna's spine, all thoughts of laughter disappearing.
“That man is unruly; I really don't know why I keep him around,” Jezebel said icily into the silence that followed Gryffon's exit.
Renee was still watching the door that Gryffon had left through. “He's quite a good looking man though, Jezebel, just that factor alone is pretty compelling.”
Jezebel relaxed somewhat and laughed, but Layna could almost see the storm still roiling beneath her carefully controlled expression. “There is that,” she conceded. “There is that.”
The rest of the visit went somewhat normally, with idle chit-chat and only a few nasty comments directed at Layna for her inability to read their minds when they wanted more of something. Much of their complaints consisted of how Gryffon wasn't doing enough of what Jezebel wanted him to or not fast enough. How life in general simply wasn't fair. She complained to Renee that even though she was the most undeserving of bad things and always trying to help other people, things just kept popping up at her.
Like this woman Jezebel had come to the house a few times. Jezebel had lent her money to pay for one of her sons to have his talent trained – wasn’t that so very nice of me, Renee? - and then she’d had the audacity to get sick and die on her before Jezebel was repaid. What she conveniently forgot to mention was that it was Jezebel's father who had actually lent the money, and he had only done it because he thought that the woman's family would feel obligated to back him in a coming vote in the merchant guildhall. Not to mention she’s mad at her for dying…
Jezebel also kept hinting – not so subtly, though Renee did not seem to be picking up on it – that she had something exciting in the works. Something that she wasn’t about to tell Renee about but obviously wanted her to know she wasn’t being told. Unfortunately for Jezebel, Renee was apparently too dull to pick up on it, and Layna could tell that Jezebel’s patience for her was waning as her more and more obvious comments continued to go unnoticed.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of listening to Jezebel complain about her life to an eager-to-please Renee, Jezebel announced that she was tired and needed to get some rest before dinner. Renee almost immediately sprang out of her chair to comply with Jezebel's request and quickly showed herself out. When Renee had gone, Jezebel turned to Layna. “I'm going out for a while. When I come back, I expect that all your normal chores will be done. You've done quite enough idling about for one day.”
Layna felt another chill at the look Jezebel gave her and she curtsied deeply, holding the position until Jezebel had stalked off. Fear crept into her and she wondered if perhaps Gryffon had done her an injustice by his comment. She could hear Jezebel screaming for Devon down the hallway, and by the sounds of it she was already working herself into a frenzy over his delay in answering.