“I’ll get out of your hair.?
? June grabbed the cart of dishes and practically sprinted out of the room.
Camilla strode to the head of the table and sat down. “Lindsey.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “We need to talk about the other night.”
Lindsey’s stomach stirred. Camilla’s face was hard and cold. Just how mad was she? Would she throw Lindsey out? End their arrangement? Lindsey didn’t care at that point. She just wanted to know that Camilla was all right.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” Camilla said.
“What do you mean?” Lindsey asked. “I just want to know what’s going on. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I have a chronic medical condition called endometriosis.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s what happens when the tissue that lines the uterus starts growing in other places in the body,” Camilla said. “Places where it shouldn’t grow.”
Lindsey frowned. That sounded horrifying.
“It’s relatively benign. But it causes some problems with inflammation and pain, as well as a laundry list of other symptoms. If you want the grisly details, you can look it up.”
“Is it going to kill you?” Lindsey asked.
“What? No, not at all.” Camilla paused. “You were that worried?”
“Of course I was! You just disappeared without a word, for the second time, and then I saw you curled up in bed in too much pain to eat, talking about taking painkillers and yelling at June to leave you alone! What was I supposed to think?”
Camilla’s expression softened. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I would have spoken to you sooner if I knew you were so concerned. I assure you, I have a long and full life ahead of me, okay?”
Lindsey nodded.
“Now, is there anything else?”
“No.” Lindsey had a million other questions, but it was clear that Camilla didn’t want to discuss this any further.
“That’s not all I wanted to speak to you about,” Camilla said. “You came into my rooms without my permission. You invaded my privacy. You broke one of my rules.”
“I’m sorry.” Lindsey looked down at the table. “I was just worried about you.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that my rooms are off limits. You agreed to the rules when you came here. And you agreed that if you broke them, you would be punished.”
Crap. Lindsey had forgotten all about that part of their agreement.
“I want five hundred lines. ‘I will not go into my Mistress’s rooms without her permission.’ Five hundred lines, neat and legible.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Lindsey replied.
“I’ll check on your progress tomorrow night.” With that, Camilla got up and marched out of the room.
Lindsey put down her pen and flexed her fingers. She’d spent most of the day at the desk in her sitting room, writing “I will not go into my Mistress’s rooms without her permission” over and over again, and she had barely made any progress.
She let out a groan of frustration. At this rate, it would take her days! Lindsey had chosen writing lines as a punishment because she thought it would be easier than the other options, but she hadn’t anticipated the number of lines Camilla would make her write.
And real punishment was nowhere near as fun as the ‘discipline’ Camilla had doled out in the playroom that night.
Lindsey began again. I will not go into my Mistress’s rooms…
She sighed. After she learned that Camilla was not, in fact, dying, she began to feel the weight of what she’d done. Lindsey hadn’t just disobeyed Camilla’s orders. She’d violated Camilla’s privacy in a big way, and she’d seen Camilla at her most vulnerable. It was obvious that Camilla didn’t like being vulnerable.