“Know why that door is padded and covered with cloth on our side?” Eve asked as Mrs. Smith opened it for Audrey. “So you and your family won’t hear us or smell us. Your side of the door is all carved and pretty and ours is plain. That’s how different your life is from mine.”
“Be quiet, Eve.”
“I’ll be your friend, Miss Audrey, if you want me to be,” Eve called after her. The door swung shut. Eve hurried back down to the scullery, knowing she was in trouble. She sank down on a wooden stool, determined not to cry, and waited for the telltale jingle of the housekeeper’s keys. It came soon enough.
“What am I going to do with you, Eve?” Mrs. Smith asked, folding her arms across her chest. She didn’t look as angry as Eve expected her to be.
“You’ll tell me to pack my things, I suppose.”
“You’re right—I should do that. But your mother is Lady Rosamunde’s personal maid. If I fire you, she’ll leave as well, and the missus would be frantic without her.” She studied Eve for a long moment, and Eve thought she detected sympathy in her eyes. “Imagine, telling Miss Audrey off the way you did! What were you thinking?”
How could Eve explain that she was only doing what Granny Maud used to do whenever Eve fell into a well of self-pity?
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what trouble comes down from above,” Mrs. Smith finally said. “I’m sure we’ll be hearing from Miss Blake or even Lady Rosamunde herself before too long.”
Eve returned to her chores, waiting for the sky to fall. If she had any regrets for what she’d said, they were for Mum’s sake, not her own. Mum might lose her job because of her.
Shortly before dinner one of the chambermaids brought Eve an envelope with her name printed on it. She dried her hands on her apron and tore it open, eager to get the bad news over with as quickly as possible.
Dear Eve,
I hope you didn’t get into trouble because of me. You were right. I was feeling sorry for myself. Thank you for the strawberries and for cheering me up. You are a very brave person.
Your friend,
Audrey Clarkson
Audrey heard Miss Blake’s familiar knock on her door—three soft, swift taps—before she bustled into the room. “It’s time to go down, Audrey. Are you ready?” She straightened the bow on Audrey’s dress and smoothed a loose curl that had fallen into her eyes. Mother would scold both Miss Blake and Audrey if her manners and appearance weren’t perfect. Miss Blake was in her late thirties, plump and pale and plain, a distant second cousin of Mother’s who had never managed to find a husband before falling on hard times. Even though her services as a governess were no longer needed, she remained a part of the household.
“No more tears, Audrey,” she said sternly. “Your mother won’t be pleased if you continue to cry and mope.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Let’s go. And mind your posture.”
Each evening when Audrey was home, she was required to go down to the drawing room with Miss Blake to speak with her parents for a few minutes before Mother and Father went through to dinner. Audrey had been planning what she would say ever since Eve showed her the scullery. She needed to be courageous. If Eve could work in that terrible cave all day, Audrey could face her parents in the drawing room. She would speak her mind without any tears, just as Eve had.
“I trust you’ve finished being dramatic and are ready to behave like a proper young lady again?” Mother asked when Audrey halted in front of her. Mother looked beautiful as she lounged on the sofa, her sequined gown sparkling like sunshine on water. A trail of smoke drifted from her long cigarette holder and floated toward the ceiling.
“Yes, Mother. I’m very sorry for the way I behaved.”
“I should hope so. You were an embarrassment to yourself, not to mention your father and me. A young woman your age shouldn’t cry and carry on in public the way you did or demand to be driven home.” She tapped a ribbon of ash into a nearby dish.
“I know. I’m sorry, Mother.” Audrey straightened her shoulders and pretended she was Eve as she prepared to speak her mind. “I have a request to make of you and Father.” He wore a dark tuxedo and crisp white shirt and stood with his back to them, looking through the window as he waited for his guests to arrive. He paid no attention to Audrey.
“A request?” Mother emphasized the word as if it were unusual. She seemed amused.
“Yes. Please consider how humiliating it would be for me to return to school after the other girls treated me so cruelly, and please allow me to remain home. I’m desperately unhappy there and would like to continue my education here with Miss Blake.”
“Desperately unhappy?” Mother echoed. She was mocking her, but Audrey kept her chin lifted, her tears at bay.
“Yes. My stomach aches all the time when I’m there. The pain gets worse every day.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Audrey.” Mother looked away.
“Please don’t make me go back there.” Her voice wobbled but she didn’t cry.
“You’re being childish and ridiculous.”
Father turned from the window to face them. “Don’t make her go if she doesn’t want to, Rosamunde.” His voice was gruff, but he was frowning at Mother, not at Audrey. “Do you want her to grow up to be as sickly as her aunt?”
“She can’t hide away here like a recluse. Audrey needs the company of other girls.”
“Not if they’re going to torment her. You may stay home, Audrey.”
“Thank you, Father.” She had been trying so hard not to cry but her father’s kindness threatened to undo her. She wished she could hug him. “I promise to study very hard with Miss Blake and do everything she asks.”
“Fine!” Mother stubbed out her cigarette as if she had a grudge against it. “But you will attend finishing school when you turn sixteen and I won’t tolerate any arguments.”
Audrey floated up the stairs, elated by her victory and her reprieve from boarding school. She wished she could tell Eve how brave she’d been. Audrey thought about Eve as she climbed into bed that night and was still thinking about her the next day as Miss Blake explained Lord Byron’s poetry to her. When it was time for afternoon tea, Audrey decided to take action. “Kindly ask Mrs. Smith to send up tea for three today,” she told her governess. “I would like to invite Eve Dawson to join us.”
“I don’t know any Miss Dawson. Is she from your school?”
“She’s one of the servants. Eve works in the scullery.”
“You cannot take tea with the scullery maid,” Miss Blake huffed. “It’s unheard of. Your mother will never allow it.”
“Mother doesn’t need to know. Eve was very kind to me yesterday when I was upset, and I would like to have tea with her to thank her.”
“I’ll need to speak with the housekeeper first.”
“I’ll go with you.” Audrey followed Miss Blake downstairs to the grand foyer to send for the housekeeper. The faint jingle of Mrs. Smith’s keys signaled her approach.
“Miss Audrey has asked to take tea with Eve Dawson. Do you know who she is?” Miss Blake asked.