Dance of Redemption 1

 In which Wiridiana, who irritated Marcelina, Wolski and Basia, considers the home truths and endeavours to improve herself, which includes going to Bazyli's sczlachta farm, where we meet up with some other minor characters, and Wiridiana learns more patience the hard way when someone else's impatience causes her grief. 

Chapter 1

 

“Józia, I need your help,” said Wiridiana Syruciówna. “I need you to be honest with me.”

The dark-haired servant girl who had a similar profile to her mistress raised an eyebrow when the beautiful szlachcianka’s back was turned.

“Yes, lady,” she said, tonelessly.

“I’m not sure where to start,” said Wiridiana.

Józia may have thought much, but she said nothing, watching the beautiful girl stride back and forth in her own chamber, where she lived in solitary splendour, black curls bouncing and wafting in the breeze of her own passage.

“You have been very quiet, lady,” she ventured.

Wiridiana had been given most furiously to think for several days since the ill-fated supper party.

“What do you know about the Krasińscy?” asked Wiridiana.

“Not much, lady. They are rumoured to be as wealthy as any magnate, though they have not as many lands as any such, and live frugal lives. They never forget a kindness nor a slight,” she added. If there was a touch of malice in that last comment, assuming that her mistress had met, and irritated, one of the Raven Banner, it was well hidden.

“A girl called Basia Krasińska knocked me to the floor,” Wiridiana said. “I ... I tried to slap her, and she grabbed my wrist and suddenly, I was sprawling!  And she and Captain Wolski, and Captain Wolski’s betrothed said terrible things to me. And ...and the captain had threatened to spank me, like some of his wilder towarzysze!”

“They say Ulans are not patient,” said Józia.

“I ... I want to hate them,” said Wiridiana. “But Uncle Timofey said that the Krasińscy could have done much worse... and had me prosecuted for common assault. The little provincial who is going to marry the captain is the starosta’s sister-in-law!”

Józia gasped.

“That might have been bad, lady,” she said.

Somewhere deep down in her spoiled little soul, Wiridiana recognised that they had actually dealt relatively kindly with her for her impudence and ill temper; and that all had spoken many a home truth.

No-one likes to hear the truth about themselves when they have behaved badly; and Wiridiana was no exception. But what made her burn with shame more than the embarrassment of being told off was the thought that everyone thought her a spoiled brat – and with reason – and hated her accordingly. Or worse, laughed scornfully about her. And that she would be ugly for lines of unpleasantness. And that there were those who might ruin her family.

“Józia, they ... Marcelina and the Krasińska girl ... were friends,” said Wiridiana. “They showed affection to each other! They really like each other.”

Józia kept her mouth firmly shut, and waited patiently whilst her mistress continued to pace like a caged tiger. Normally the girl took pleasure in the fine Louis Quinze furniture, with its delicate cabriole legs, baroque scrolls and gilding. She paced, almost unseeing, however, ignoring the cherubs which were carved each side on the bed head, which was painted with roses and without any curtains at the head such as was traditional. The footboard had an arcadian scene on it, which a happy-looking shepherdess, leaning on a doting shepherd and classical ruins in the background. Wiridiana envied the shepherdess, and went to sit on the bed to avoid looking at her, smoothing the rose-coloured silk quilt which lay on top of it. Rose was very becoming to Wiridiana, whose dark curls and creamy complexion were complemented by most colours. Her eyes, more grey than blue, were large and luminous, and did not demand blue as a colour, though she could wear it readily. Wiridiana scowled at the innocent carven putti, then hastily schooled her face. She did not want scowls to give her lines!

 “Józia, am I such a bitch?” asked Wiridiana.

“Lady?” Józia asked tonelessly.

“Am I nasty to you?  So nasty that you’re almost cowering?” said Wiridiana looking at Józia for perhaps the first time. She saw a girl much her own build but a little taller, her dark brown hair tied up in a scarf with green eyes looking too large in a rather gaunt face. The eyes were lowered quickly after having looked up in surprise.

“My lady is my employer: I always try to do her bidding,” said Józia.

There was even so a touch of resentment in the voice. Wiridiana stamped her foot impatiently.

“Józia, tell me what you really think of me!  I order you to!  And I promise I shall not punish you for speaking the truth,” she added hastily.

Józia kept her face wooden; she was a year or two older than Wiridiana and had been her personal maid since she, Józia, had been orphaned at thirteen years old and must take employment as she could not work her mother’s small tenancy herself.

“Lady, I do my work for you as best I may. I am not paid to have opinions,” the girl decided that this was the easiest way out of a dilemma. To promise not to punish?  Why, if she told the little brat what she truly thought she’d surely find ways to punish, even if she didn’t give a whipping straight away; or would at least remember and punish more horribly for real or imagined slights at a later date.

Wiridiana caught the flash of angry contempt in her maid’s eyes as she spoke her colourless piece; and burst into tears.

“It’s true then!  Everyone does hate me because I’m so horrid!” she sobbed. She threw herself down on the bed and howled as if her heart was breaking. And in some ways it was!

Józia hesitated; then sat down beside her mistress and put a tentative arm around her shoulders. She had never seen Wiridiana like this!  Crying for effect, yes; tears of frustrated anger, frequently; but never such desolation!  Józia had suffered much at Wiridiana’s quick hands – but this was scarcely the Wiridiana she knew!

The younger girl turned into the embrace and clung desperately to Józia.

“Oh Józia, I’ve slapped you and had you whipped and – and I’m not even sure why, and oh-oh-oh!” she howled again.

“My lady has a hot temper and my lady’s father has never seen fit to teach my lady to curb it,” Józia ventured.

“C...Captain Wolski s-said I had a voice that could cut paper and break glass,” said Wiridiana  “And that I richly deserved walloping, and that if I couldn’t learn to contain my anger terrible things could happen….and other things too.”

“Sounds like you don’t need me to tell you then, lady,” said Józia.

“I – I hoped it was only because I – I had a – a tantrum at his betrothed’s friend,” said Wiridiana in a small voice “That made him madder at me….. Józia, I – I don’t know how to measure up, how to be nice!  Oh teach me!”

“Do you really want to learn?  Or is it going to wear off when you’ve recovered from being reproved by a handsome captain of Ulans and his well-connected friends?” asked Józia cautiously.

“I want to learn!  I want to have friends!  I want to be likeable!” cried Wiridiana.

Józia smiled cynically.

“Then, my lady might start by adding a couple of things; and losing another,” she said.

“What’s that?  Tell me quick!”

“Well, lady, if you add the odd ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ the courtesy oils many a bad moment; and if you remove ‘I want’ from your speech you’ll find people less inclined to see you for a spoilt little brat. And as you stop thinking about what you want, and start thinking about courtesies to other people’s feelings you’ll find that you’re not such a spoilt little brat.”

It was the longest speech Józia had ever made to her mistress; and Wiridiana flushed. Anger ran across her face at being so spoken to; but she swallowed it, especially seeing Józia flinch and tense for a blow.

“I – I see. Thank you Józia,” she said “I – I appreciate you being blunt. Someone has to be; and Papa thinks me perfect.”

Józia pulled a face.

“Your father has never had a kind word for anyone one but you, lady, and too many in your case. He’s not universally popular himself. Though at least he doesn’t like you too much the way your uncle did; reckon the substarosta’s lady did you a favour.”

Wiridiana was startled.

The idea that a szlachcic’s people should hold opinions about their overlord had never entered her rather empty little head. But visions of her father snarling at people, slashing casually with his riding crop, kicking at peasants suddenly rose before her eyes.

“How would my lady like to be a servant in this dwór, scrubbing floors when the szlachcic comes in, in a bad mood?” asked Józia shrewdly.

The thought was horrifying.

“I – I can’t imagine!” said Wiridiana “I – I can’t even imagine scrubbing floors, let alone……they said I was lazy too,” she added.

“You’ve not exactly been encouraged to stir yourself, have you?” asked Józia. Wiridiana was holding her hand tightly, as though she were drowning and was grasping at the one thing that could keep her above water. It hurt; but Józia did not mind that pain. It was the hand of a desperate child clinging to someone who could rescue her.

Wiridiana suddenly also had visions of how she felt about her uncle’s disturbingly familiar caresses.

“Did my uncle touch you inappropriately?” she asked, sharply.

“No, lady, thank you; I made sure to be dirty enough to put him off.”

“....and I beat you for appearing dirty to my presence. I ... but I suppose you could not tell me.”

“No, lady. And you have little idea how to make a choice between being clean, and being late, or coming when called and being dirty from work.”

 “Wolski said I would be flabby and ugly from being lazy and pulling nasty faces, but ... but they all said I could learn,” said Wiridiana.

“And are you sweet on this Lord Wolski?” asked Józia.

Wiridiana blinked.

“No…..no, he’s handsome and…..and merry when he’s not so angry…..he…..he acted like I was a child who needed scolding and chastising I guess….. I think I rather admire him, and I’m a bit scared of him…. I had intended to fascinate him because I thought he was Regina’s. Because I could. I thought. But he’s already betrothed and ... and I think he loves his Marcelina.”

“Then it strikes me, lady, you were dead lucky to be advised by him, and no worse,” said Józia bluntly.

“I suppose so. Oh Józia, please call me Wiridiana when we’re alone!  I – I need a friend and you’re being such a good one so far – especially as I’ve been such a bitch to you!”

Józia allowed herself a smile.

“It hasn’t always been easy – Wiridiana. But if you really want to change I will stand your friend.”

Wiridiana looked into the girl’s steady green eyes.

“You look like me,” she blurted out, suddenly.

Józia’s lips twisted.

“Hardly surprising, when your father sired me,” she said.

“You are my sister? But ... but as your father is a szlachcic, that makes you a szlachcianka! Why are you my maid?”

“Because our sire never cared,” said Józia.

“Why ... this is wrong! I should speak to my father ....”

“Queen of Poland, no!” said Józia, in lively alarm. “He doesn’t want to acknowledge a bastard, and the easiest way not to acknowledge me would be for me to be dead!”

Wiridiana stared in consternation.

“I want to make it right,” she said.

Józia saw the sincerity in her mistress’s smoky eyes and embraced her warmly.

“You just put someone else first, Wiridiana,” she whispered “And that’s a big step!” She went on, “I ... I wonder if it would help you to see the work that goes on that you never notice, in a big dwór? To work with the other maids?”

“I don’t see why I should not be able to,” said Wiridiana.

Józia smiled cynically.

“It will be harder than you think,” she said.

 “I know. I – I have an idea. If – if I can persuade Czapla,” she named her personal groom, “to play along, I could ride off, and come back each morning dressed as a maid, and learn?”

Józia laughed.

“It won’t work. By the time you ride, much of the work is done!  If you want to know how to drudge, better to get up early – long before your father rises – and I’ll introduce you as a girl come to help for a couple of hours. Because you won’t last longer than that at first.”

“How…er how long do servants work each day?” Wiridiana wanted to know.

 “Between twelve and sixteen hours,” shrugged Józia “Not always at hard work. I rise at five to see water is hot for your bath; and wash and hang up the clothes you’ve discarded the previous night, and if they dry I iron them in case you decide to wear the same gown. It’s a skilled job; brocades are the very devil to launder you know; and velvets too. I hope to have time to take some breakfast then; but that depends. Then I do any mending that’s urgent and then I bring you your tea in bed; and then I bring you breakfast if you require it in bed, and lay out what you have chosen to wear. Next I bring hot water for your bath and stand by in case you need me. I usually snatch the chance to sit down then,” she added “Then I dry you and assist you with dressing and hope that you’re in a good mood and not about to find me clumsy when you’re not helping yourself with dressing,” – here Wiridiana flushed. Józia went on,

“Anyway, once you’re up and go down to play music or go riding or embroider, I often have time to snatch breakfast if I have not done so before, so long as I am within call to pick up your skein of thread if you are embroidering should you drop it. It is easiest on me if you choose to ride,” she added dryly.

“I make myself ride; one has to. Horses scare me so,” confessed Wiridiana.

“Well if you only told Czapla that and let him show you how to master them properly they’d become less scary I guess!” suggested Józia. “That would not have gone down well with an Ulan; you must tell Czapla.”

“But he’ll despise me!” wailed Wiridiana.

“For ill treating the animals he already does,” said Józia “What else do you expect?  Now are you losing your resolve, for you’ve that temper look coming, Wiridiana..”

Wiridiana swallowed.

“It’s not easy to hear,” she said.

“But better from someone who thinks you can change the way you’re seen surely?  Shall I continue with the description of my day’s work?” said Józia.

Wiridiana nodded almost meekly.

Józia went on,

“It’s the table staff who have the caring for you at the noon meal; I have a couple of hours lighter duties – mending, and ironing what I’ve not been able to do before, as well as eating my own noon meal,” she said “Then I must be on hand for you in the afternoon should you call; for you like to please yourself without interruption walking in the garden and receiving swains sometimes; and I must be invisible but on hand. Then I must lay out what you plan to wear for the evening, and heat you another bath, and help you with it and with dressing; and clear up your dressing table if you have used makeup. And your hair must be braided again – I did not mention that for the morning ablutions – and then it is supper and the evening entertainments. I often take a nap after I have eaten; I’m pretty tired by then,” she confessed. “Then I must undress you and get you to bed, and pick up your discarded clothes to wash on the morrow, and sit up a while in case you do not sleep straight away but call for me. It is then eleven in the evening.”

Wiridiana was aghast.

“How do you cope on so little sleep?” she demanded.

Józia shrugged.

“Accustomed to it I suppose,” she said “Sometimes I’m so tired I want to cry; especially when you’ve been …..a little fractious.”

Wiridiana flushed.

“That makes it sound so childish!” she snapped.

“And is it not?”

Wiridiana buried her face in her hands.

“I had no idea!” she said “I – I’m sorry I’ve been so trying to add to all that!”

“That is the biggest thing you ever said,” said Józia “I never heard you ever apologise before!”

“It – I find it so difficult!”

“It is. Wiridiana, I’m really starting to like you – is that not a victory for you?” said Józia.

“Truly?” Wiridiana sounded hungry.

“Truly!”

“Then – then I can do it!  With your help!  Józia, I – I can’t start tomorrow; I’m exhausted with all that’s happened!  But please go straight to bed yourself; if I want anything I can get it myself!”

“Let me get you a glass of water first,” said Józia “If you have it ready at night, you won’t have to disturb yourself to get one; and that’ll make you sweeter natured about your resolve not to call me.”

Wiridiana managed a weak smile.

“That’s awfully practical,” she said.

“Servants have to be,” said Józia dryly.

 “Tomorrow you take the day off!” Wiridiana said “I – I’m sure I can make shift for myself!”

Józia gave her a twisted smile.

“No you can’t. not until you’re taught. Perhaps you’ll choose to wear a different gown though so I don’t have to hurry as much?”

“I will,” said Wiridiana “And – and you can show me how to do my own mending too, perhaps?”

“I think you’d find it more enjoyable than you realise to work together,” said Józia. “Good night, Wiridiana.”

“Good night Józia!” said Wiridiana.

It was a happier girl who went to bed than for a long time, had she but realised it; and if Józia cried herself to sleep those tears too were healing.

She too was no longer alone with a burden of grief to carry!