"Come in," a familiar voice said.� To most people, it sounded like any other man's voice, but to Emily it sounded like dark velvet rolling softly off a perfectly pink tongue.

Brushing light brown hair out of her face she gathered her courage and entered.� Clutching onto her light blue dress that all of Mr. Kenneth Fredrick's maids were required to wear, she glanced up into his deep green eyes and said, "I'm pregnant."

The twenty-year-old man felt his eyes widen.� He had expected a lot of things, but certainly not this.� "Is...is it mine?" he stuttered, dumbfounded.� Emily nodded worriedly, too amazed by the fact that this articulate man was stuttering to be indignant.

Running his hands through dark hair, his thoughts ran wildly.� He had a wife.� Although it was a loveless marriage, his wife had borne him two children, and he couldn't risk such a public scandal.� "You can't keep it," he said determinedly.

Emily simply stared at him.� She couldn't believe what he was saying.� Two months ago he had told her he loved her and that the only reason he was with his wife was because it was an arranged marriage.

He mistook her blatant staring.� "Emily, you know I will pay for everything.� You don't need to worry about that."

Her blue eyes widened in horror.� "You want to kill our baby?" she asked.� Although her eyes were dry, her voice came out strangled and tears weren't needed to express her emotions.

"Of course not!" he said truthfully.� He didn't want to, but it was necessary.� Everything he told her was true, but that didn't mean he would put aside his life for her.� "But my wife...my children..." he said, willing her to understand.

What about me? she wanted to ask.� Instead she said, "This is your child, too."� Closing her eyes she said, "And if you won't let me keep have my child here, then I...I'll just have to leave.

"Emily..." he said, trailing off.

She waited.� When he didn't continue, she said, "Good-bye, Mr. Fredrick."

"Wait!� Just...just stay here until the baby is born.� The streets are no place for a pregnant woman," he said, hoping she would stay.

She looked over her shoulder at him.� "For seven months, then."

Seven Months Later

For the past seven months, Emily had ignored her employer, and acted quite coolly toward him.� By now, her stomach was round and as big as an overstuffed pillow.� As she cleaned the manor, she thought of the night when Kenneth�no, Mr. Fredrick�told his wife about their pregnant maid.

"Do you know who's child it is?" his wife asked coldly.

It was certainly an interesting night, and the Missus had hated her ever since.� If there was one thing to say about Veronica Fredrick it was that she was smart, amart enough to realize that her husband wasn't just saying Emily could stay out of the kindness of his heart.� Of course, according to her, Kenneth didn't have a heart.

"Oh!" Emily said, feeling her stomach contract painfully.� Thinking it was nothing, she shrugged and got back to work.� An hour later, she found herself with a doctor, screaming with everything she had.

"Remember your breathing," the doctor said soothingly, looking deep in concentration.

Sixteen strenuous hours later, the doctor emerged from the room, shaking his head sadly.

"How are they?" Kenneth asked, a bit too anxiously.

"The child is fine.� A healthy baby girl," the doctor said with a slight smile.� His smile drooping, he said, "But I'm afraid the same cannot be said for the mother.� She was much too small.� Her body couldn't handle it.� There was simply too much bleeding."

The dark-haired man nodded, a mask of nonchalance slipping over his face.� Emily was young.� Perhaps seventeen, or so.� What's more, she was a tiny little thing, just making 5'0", and so thin.� He shook his head, unable to believe he already thought of her in a past tense.

Gently pushing the door open, he smiled when he saw her clutching the small, pink baby.

"She has your eyes," he said, indicating the child's bright blue eyes.

"And your hair," she said, touching the dark hair that crowned their baby's head.� "I...I was thinking of naming her Penelope.� After my sister," she said, her voice weak and tired.

"That's a beautiful name," he said, brushing sweat-laden hair off of her face.� "Can...can I hold her?"� When she nodded, he took the baby out of the Emily's arms as if she were made of spun glass.� He cooed at her for a few minutes then smiled at Emily, only to find her cold and pale.

Ten Years Later

Penelope Wilson walked to the manor with her head held high, holding Sally Fredrick's new dress, fresh from the seamstress, in her hand.� A block away from her "home" she ran into young Theodore Fredrick.� "Mr. Fredrick," she said, nodding to the thirteen-year-old boy.

The young boy had been taught early on that she was beneath him, but he could never believe it.� Rolling expressive green eyes, he said, "Call me Teddy.� Or at least Theodore.� I'm not Mr. Fredrick, my father was."

Penelope smiled at the boy.� She had always liked him better then Sally, who was a stuck up brat, especially since her father had died the previous year.� "Only if you promise to never call me Penelope.� Penny is fine."

He grinned cheerfully.� "Well then, Penny, would you like me to carry that for you?"

"That would be very gentlemanly of you, Teddy," she said, handing him the dress.

He took the dress and gracefully threw it over his shoulder.� Or at least he tried to.� Instead, it fell into the mud in a streak of pink.

Penny blinked.� Miss Fredrick is going to kill me, she thought.

She must've said it out loud, for Teddy said, "Aw, don't worry about Sally.� I'll just tell her it was me."

Five minutes later, Penny and Teddy found themselves being chased by a twelve-year-old girl with blond curls pulled up in pig tails. "Aiieeee!� You little heathen!"

Glancing at his sister, Teddy rolled his eyes.� "Aw, come off it, Sally.� I'm the one who dropped your dumb dress."

"Mother!" Sally screamed.

The blond woman came rushing down the stairs.� "What is it, Sally?"

Pointing to Penny and Teddy she said "Those...those...heathens ruined my new dress!"

Narrowing her eyes at Penny, Veronica said, "I can't believe it.� My family has been taking care of you since you were born!� I told my husband that a bastard like you would never fit in around here, but he was always too generous.� Now this is the last time I'm going to stand for this.� Tomorrow you are going to the nearest work house."

"But - but mother!" Teddy exclaimed, taken by surprise.

"I don't want to hear any arguments about it!� Theodore," she said, handing him a belt,�"Take care of her tonight, and tomorrow she will be sent away from our home and will never set foot in here again."

Teddy dropped the belt.� "No, I can't."

"Be a man, Theodore!� Either you give her three strokes, or I'll give both of you three strokes,"�she said, perfectly serious.� "Sally, get out of here." The girl disappeared in a flash of curls.

Leaning over to Penny, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Penny.� I'm so sorry,"

The sky met the forest as their eyes locked.� "I understand."� It was all she needed to say.

"Count it out loud," Veronica said.

"One." The first stroke came hard, and though it was as fast as lightning, it hurt as much, too.

"Two." The second stroke licked her shoulder and she felt something warm drip down her back.� Blood.

"Three." As the last stroke cut her back, she bit her lip, until coppery-tasting liquid started to well up inside her mouth.

"Take her to her room," his mother said coldly, and walked regally up the stairs.

When his mother disappeared from sight, Teddy immediately scrambled next to Penny.� Tears ran freely down his face as he apologized over and over again.

That night, Penny lay on her cot, back to the air.� "Well," she said to herself, "I would've ran away eventually."� Although she wouldn't have said it out loud if she didn't have to go, it was perfectly true.� Penny didn't want to be like her mother and spend her life serving other people.� She wanted something more.� She just hoped that there was something more.