Teasing your wicked heart

With a sharp intake of breath, a high-pitched, tight voice stated, "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday," and went on, "Friday and Saturday."

She placed her thick, tiny fingers on her face, began to count, going through each day again, and discovered that there was one missing.

She sighed in frustration and went through the entire process again, the final word barely escaping her lips but not offering her the comfort of knowing that she had finally remembered the solution.

The governess gave a grin. "Look up," she continued, pointing to a ceiling painted yellow and adorned with a detailed white woodcarving that appeared to resemble a sun. Its beams reached out to the massively lined square frames that encased the hardwood panel.

"Sunday," she said, her eyes expanding and her lips quivering as she finally enjoyed the sense of achievement.

How could Sunday slip her mind? Monday was the nicest day of the week, and Sunday arrived before Monday.

Alright. "What is today?" asked the governess. As the nurse firmly pinned the girl's hair to the top of her head, the girl wriggled in her chair.

"Declaration of the day, Missy," the governess reminded the young child, raising her eyebrow slightly when she didn't respond immediately.

She let out a frustrated sigh and started to recite, her high-pitched voice resonating through the nursery's huge, empty halls. "The week consists of seven days. Monday is here, and I'm glad today," she said, pausing to hum the last few sounds of her phrase.

"Tomorrow is Tuesday, and it will be better because God is good, God is great, and I love Him," she said, her mouth moving effortlessly through the next few sentences. "Yesterday was Sunday, and it was great." With a clearly proud smile, she completed the declaration as instructed by the governess.

Her governess was a mature, well-mannered woman who never raised her voice much when teaching the young child. The only child of the Earl, Lady Sarah Jane, was joyous in every manner. She ate her meals quickly and rushed into the deserted hallways, always eager to get on to the next thing that piqued her interest. But all of them were enchanted by the tiny girl's boundless charms, even as the irritated housekeeper cleared up after her mischievous antics.

In the drafty house, her words blended with gentle hitches and hums, warming their hearts. She seemed to be the only one hearing the music, so she danced along with it. Even if the mansion could have the potential to lower people's spirits, all it took was one sound-her tiny, thumping feet echoing through the rooms-for every last bit of the mild-mannered, mature governess to break into a silly smile.

Everyone in the house had agreed that the previous week had been dismal.

Even if he did end up flat on the ground after his wild Arabian horse proved to be untamable, Lord Rosenberg had taken to bed for more than a few days, and it was not like him to be indisposed for so long.

It was a regular occurrence.

The Earl loved the wild things and fought to tame them with his hands and feet, finding delight in being able to control them and make them conform to his will. He chose to spend more time outside than inside the drafty house since it made him think of his late wife, the mother of the young child, who had managed to bring him to tears throughout their brief marriage. She gave birth with difficulty, which ultimately led to her premature death, and the widower had withdrawn from the world to grieve in order to protect his beautiful daughter from any mistreatment.

Every Monday, the Earl would give his only daughter a few hours to spend showing her about the home and making up elaborate tales. This particular Monday was Monday. However, the Earl was not in the mood for breakfast, and her well-mannered adult governess, Miss Elizabeth, made a great effort to divert the six-year-old girl from her father's bedroom. As long as the earl had not improved, the doctor felt it would be safer to keep people away from him because it was unclear if he was sick with anything else that could spread.

The governess had told Lady Sarah Jane that rain was predicted for that afternoon, which would have prevented their planned tour of the gardens. "Would you like us to continue our tour?" she asked quietly.