Under the bright sun, and with very little care, Edna snatched the sizeable linen clothes off of the drying strings before tossing them, one by one, into the basket that lay near her feet.
She was never the kind to perform a given task with a smile, but the sort to huff and puff at every effort or move.
That class of work was beneath her, wasn't it? So, she thought. So much so that the word "maid" caused the inner walls of her stomach to flip inside out.
She'd basket in the Lady's and the Master's good favors once upon the… Well, up until two weeks prior to that day when a certain someone came and ruined it all for Edna.
Took it all, she did. Ripped the rug from right underneath her feet. That noble's daughter that carried herself like royalty. Arabella fancied herself a saint when all she had to do was flaunt her bits and that fabricated simper for everyone to cave and bend to her whims, men and women alike.
