Page 5 of The Lady's Companion
Papa followed her into the hall. His face was white now, his eyes more desperate than she could remember. He tugged at her sleeve like a child. “Susan, this one last time, trust me with Mama’s pearls. I can win and you will have your Season!”
“No, Papa.”
He did not ask a second time. She gently removed her arm from his grasp and went to the breakfast room. When she returned with the scissors, he was moving slowly up the stairs. From her seat on the sofa close to Aunt Louisa, she heard him leave the house an hour later.
She remained where she was, even though she wanted to run upstairs, throw herself on her knees in front of the lowest drawer in her bureau, and feel the reassurance of Mama’s pearls in their red velvet bag. He would never dare, she thought, as she darned socks. Yes, he would, she amended.
Grimly she stuck at her task, nodding and saying “Um,” and “Indeed,” to her aunt’s numerous comments on friends, enemies, neighbors, the government, and stray dogs. These will be my evenings from now on, she told herself. I had better get used to them.
To her relief. Aunt Louisa finally pushed back the embroidery frame with a sigh and called for tea, drinking it slowly, thoughtfully, while Susan chafed to go upstairs.
“Good night, Susan,” Aunt Louisa said at last. “Do you think you could return a book to the lending library for me tomorrow morning? It’s long overdue.”
“I surely can.”
Louisa made a face. ”1 cannot spare a maid to walk with you, but you don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course I do not, Aunt.”
“Very well then.” She took Susan’s hand as she passed by. “We will get along famously, I am sure.”
“Certainly, Aunt,” said Susan as she bent to kiss her.
In her room, Susan stood for a long time before the bureau, her hands clasped in front of her. Everything looked in order. If Papa meant to deceive, he had done better than usual this time. She knelt by the drawer finally and opened it. Her neatly folded petticoats and chemises were turned back. I could have done that, she thought as she reached underneath them. She sighed with relief as she touched the velvet bag, then bit her lip as she felt for the familiar shape of Mama’s beautiful pearls, a gift from her father. The bag was empty.
Susan was still awake hours later when she heard her father climbing the stairs. A week ago, she would have felt some hope, some anticipation that he would burst into her room with good news, the best news. He paused outside the door a moment, and she almost held her breath.
The moment passed; he moved on slowly. She turned her face to the wall and closed her eyes.
Chapter Three
She did not expect her father to say anything to her over breakfast, and he did not. After selecting from the sideboard, he sat quietly in his chair, his gaze going more often to the icy window than to the eggs on his plate. If he was chastising himself, Susan knew that it would pass soon enough. In a week, or maybe even a few days, he would be casting about for something else to stake on the flip of a card. I hope you do not take to stealing from your sister, Susan thought, as she ignored her own breakfast. You have stolen everything from me now, and I have nothing left to lose.
She applied herself to the porridge in front of her, patting down the mush and watching the cream swell inside, then seek a lower level. She created a series of connecting terraces before she looked up at her father.
“I am going to seek employment.”
It was not a question, nor was it spoken with any heat or blame. It was the most matter-of-fact sentence she had ever uttered in her life. She put down her spoon and took a deep breath as Aunt Louisa gasped.
Sir Rodney said nothing. Aunt Louisa looked at him, her face a study in stupefaction. “Can’t you say anything?” she asked finally.
He could not. She turned to her niece, her words coming out as brisk and cold as sleet on window glass. “No Hampton has ever worked, Susan. How can you forget that?”
Susan let her breath out slowly. Either I continue now or I fold for good, she thought. “Then perhaps it is time one of them did, Aunt,” she said, each syllable distinct. “I cannot continue to be a charge on you, and you will be the first to remind me that I amgetting old. My mind is quite made up, Aunt.”
“You can’t mean that!” Louisa burst out “What will our circle think when they learn that you have hired yourself out as... as... what? Think what this will do to Emily’s chances!”
“It will do nothing to Emily’s chances, Aunt,” Susan said quietly. “The only one affected will be me.”
Aunt Louisa leaned back in her chair. “I forbid you to even think of such a thing!” She put her hand to her forehead. “Now I have a headache, and there is so much to do today!” She rose, cast another scathing look at her brother, and swept from the room.
Susan finished her breakfast, wiped her lips, and rose to go while Sir Rodney still sat staring at his plate. She went to the door, but turned back when he cleared his throat “Don’t do anything rash, daughter,” he begged, raising his eyes to hers for the first time.
And how many times did Mama and I plead so with you? she wanted to scream at him. Instead, she took another deep breath until she felt calm enough to speak. “Papa, I am taking charge of my life now,” she said, her voice rising with emotion, despite her efforts to control it. “I am long of legal age, and I have such a grievance against you. You know I have!”
He said nothing more. She went upstairs and stood for a long time staring out the window in her bedroom. It was snowing lightly, and her determination wavered. Perhaps there will be no snow tomorrow, and all the walkways will be swept, she considered. In another day or two, the snow could be entirely gone. She leaned her forehead against the windowpane. And in another year or two of days, I will be too old to make this attempt. I will be biddable and do whatever Aunt wishes of me, as if I never had plans of my own.
Perhaps I don’t, she thought, as she pulled on her boots and wound her muffler tight around her throat. I wanted to marryand have children, but unless some miracle happens, that plan is gone. I cannot depend upon a man to make my way safe or smooth. I must learn to do that for myself.
