“Good day, Miss Winter.” Will says, nodding with a furrowed brow. He then turns to his niece. “Come now, Rebecca. This is Miss Winter. Don't be shy.”
Will's voice is deep and carries with it a timbre older than his years, it has character to it, a voice that can only be forged through dark and difficult experiences. It may seem aged in a way that it shouldn't, but it is no less vital. And with it comes an underpinning of a stern kindness. The type that needs unlocked to be truly seen.
Melody is glad to see Will be both firm and well-meaning with little Rebecca. There is something about this man; something deep. To Melody he resembles the mountains nearby, carved out of the Earth's sheer rock to withstand the elements and all the tragedies they bring.
But someone so impervious to such difficulties can often have a dark heart, and this is something Melody is particularly wary of when thinking about what happened to her father.
“Rebecca,” Melody says, leaning on her knees and bending down until she is eye level with the little girl. “I'm Melody. And I hope we can be friends.” Melody reaches out with her hand.
Rebecca stares momentarily at the hand of the grown-up before finally reaching out cautiously and shaking hands with her new teacher. Her pretty red tartan dress flutters in a draft coming through the door behind her. It is a draft that can only mean one thing: someone has entered the mansion.
“Will! Rebecca!” another loud voice comes from below. It has something of the quality of Will's voice: rich and booming, though not as deep, and not as darkened by the dangers of the world.
Will rolls his eyes at the sound of the voice, then he smiles.
“That will be my brother, Maximilian. He's returned from a business trip I sent him on, sooner than intended, I see.”
“Oh, it'll be nice to meet him,” Melody offers with a smile.
“Quite,” replies Will. “You might regret that, though, he has a way with wo...” Just as he is about to say the word, he clearly checks himself at the presence of his niece.
Melody knows he was about to say that his brother has a way with women. But Melody has handled many unwanted advances before, so she is quite unmoved by this less than subtle warning.
When Will's brother yells from downstairs again, Rebecca turns and darts back out of the room, her feet pattering along the corridor outside and away from the study.
“Rebecca! Come back here at once!” Will booms.
But it's too late for her to turn back. Like all children, once the whim is felt, they must dash off to it, almost helpless as if being carried by an unseen wind. Rebecca's feet can be heard running down the main staircase and into the reception hall below.
Melody listens and almost grimaces at the sound on the stairs, worrying that she might be running too fast for her own good.
“Uncle Max!” Rebecca then yells, her voice reverberating throughout the main stairwell like droplets of water in a cave. It is the voice of a child filled with love and excitement.
“My little Rebecca! Come here and give your Uncle Max a big hug,” the other voice echoes. Despite the size of Deacon House, even though it warps the words from a distance through unfathomable echoes and reverberations, the words are still clear and clean.
Will sighs and then steps fully into the study where Melody is still standing and closes the door. It is clear from the way Will looks at the door and quietens his voice, that this is a conversation he does not wish to be heard by unwelcome ears.
“Forgive Rebecca for her exuberance,” he says. “She is very fond of her Uncle Max and he has been away for a few days. He's not always the best influence on her, but what can one do when a child has already lost so much.”
“Yes, you must feel very deeply about Rebecca's well-being. You and your brother.” Melody offers. “I would very much like to meet him, too. I'm sure he can't be as bad as you say.”
Will looks suspiciously over his shoulder at the closed door again. The sound of Rebecca jumping around somewhere with her Uncle can distantly be heard. Maximilian is regaling her with stories of his adventures, clearly embellished in some places, completely made up in others.
“The thing is, Miss Winter... A matter most delicate... I would ask you to be wary of my brother. He means well, and, please do not misunderstand me, he is a good man, but he does have a habit of being...” Will seems to be searching his mind for the right words. “He has a habit of being overly affectionate with the staff here at Deacon House. This has caused problems before and I've had to hire other servants simply because the previous ones had fallen in love with him, had their hearts broken, and Max, he is a free spirit in many ways, so he is in and out of love with different women with each calendar month. And, I do not wish to make you feel uncomfortable, but you are a striking lady, and so...”
“Thank you,” Melody interrupts, blushing. The compliment does something to her deep within.
“It is so difficult to find someone with your qualifications on the island to come and teach Rebecca. So, for your and Rebecca's benefit,” Will continues,
