“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.
If the request surprised the housekeeper, she hid it well. According to the household hierarchy, she and the governess functioned independently and were nearly equals—although Audrey thought that Miss Blake, who had her own private room on the second floor, was just a notch higher than Mrs. Smith. “Eve is the daughter of Lady Rosamunde’s lady’s maid. Ellen’s girl,” Mrs. Smith replied.
“I didn’t know Ellen was married, let alone had a daughter,” Miss Blake said. “I thought all of Wellingford’s servants had to be single.”
“Eve’s father died in the Great War.”
“Do you think she would be a suitable . . . guest . . . for Miss Audrey?”
“Eve is very hardworking and cheerful. Everyone downstairs likes her. I don’t believe it will do Miss Audrey any harm to take tea with her.”
It made Audrey’s stomach ache to hear them talking about her as if she weren’t there. She was tired of being treated like a child. “Wellingford Hall is my home,” she said. “I shall invite whomever I want for tea.” She felt very brave but the two women still ignored her.