“Go help your mother,” I yelled over my shoulder. I didn’t turn back to see if they had obeyed.
I ran as fast as I could to the main road and didn’t stop until I reached the doctor’s house. I pounded on the door and told him that Victoria was ill the moment it opened.
He grabbed his bag and ran to his carriage, and I followed him. He turned around and looked at me. “You look like you need to rest. Stay here for a while and have the maid get you some cookies and tea.” He drove off before I could protest.
It had been years since I had had cookies, but they had never sounded less appetizing to me. I had no intention of going into the doctor’s house and resting. I waited until he turned the corner and I began walking back home, grateful that I could take some time to catch my breath and calm my frantic heart and grasp what had happened.
Victoria had found out my secret. After years of hiding them, she had found my gown and slippers and had ordered me to sell them. And I knew that the only reason she wasn’t taking them herself, besides the fact that it was Sunday, was that she was too weak. I sighed, again feeling guilty for being relieved that she didn’t feel well and that I was able to hide my things away from her once more. But now that she knew about them and that I was adding open rebellion to my deceit, I would surely pay for this.
I walked with my head down, watching as my toes on each foot took turns peeking out from under my hem as I walked. The sound of a carriage approaching made me lift my eyes. Carefree laughter drifted over the countryside as what I recognized as a royal carriage came toward me from the opposite direction. I looked into the faces of its occupants, and my heart stopped as the prince’s eyes met mine.
His laughter stopped abruptly, and he stared back at me with an expression that looked something like concern mingled with bewilderment. I curtsied respectfully as the carriage hurried past me, and I was caught in the cloud of dust left behind it. My curiosity pulled my gaze back toward the carriage, and I saw that the prince had turned around in his seat to look at me. His gaze was so intense, I thought for a moment that he was going to stop and talk to me. My stomach filled with butterflies and dread at the same time. It would be incredible to be able to talk to the prince, but I would have no idea what to say, and besides that, I couldn’t begin to imagine what I looked like. I bit my lip nervously, but the carriage never slowed. He simply watched me until they disappeared around the bend. I couldn’t tell if I felt relief or disappointment once he was gone.
I continued walking toward home, covered in dust and sweat, and tried to imagine what I must have looked like to the prince, and what made him stare at me that way. Did he know that it had been me who had stood ten feet away from him when he announced the ball? That I was the girl next to Jane?
By the time I arrived at home, Victoria had been revived with some smelling salts and had fallen back to sleep. The doctor and I stayed up all night watching over her and changing the cloths on her forehead. I wasn’t sure if the doctor usually stayed to perform such menial tasks, or if he wanted to stay and help me when he realized I would be doing it alone. He kept glancing over his shoulder. I assumed he was waiting for my stepsisters to come and help their mother. After a while, he stopped looking.
Victoria never fully regained consciousness until the morning. When she did, the doctor asked me to bring her some broth. Fortunately I had some saved from the chicken and dumplings from when Jane had come to call, and I brought it up on a tray and placed it on the table next to the bed. The doctor was checking her pulse and he murmured a quiet “Thank you.” Victoria said nothing and didn’t even look in my direction.
I stood and watched as the doctor coaxed Victoria into drinking a few spoonfuls of broth, knowing that it was something I should be doing. I hesitatingly stepped closer and quietly took the bowl out of the doctor’s hands. He smiled up at me gratefully, his eyes bleary, and he went to stand to look out the window, rubbing his eyes with his hands.
I turned back to Victoria, who was already glaring at me with unconcealed hatred, and I jumped a little. My hand shook and the spoon clanked against the bowl as I lifted it out to offer it to her. I was angry with myself for being terrified of this woman who couldn’t even lift her hand to feed herself. But the fear I had of her had very little to do with the physical harm she could inflict upon me. She was awake and conscious, and the control she usually had over me was now mingled with hatred for my betrayal, and I felt it keenly. She had a piercing way of looking at me that made me feel guilty for keeping my things from her, though I knew it was a perfectly acceptable and necessary thing for me to do. Still, it made my stomach hurt and my heart fill with dread. I tried to push the feeling away, but habit, mingled with my exhaustion and her relentless glare, made it impossible.
I held the shaking spoon up to her lips, the broth spilling a little onto her blankets. After holding my gaze for a moment, she looked away to stare at the opposite wall. I knew how much she hated to accept my help and so I wasn’t surprised when she refused it. It reminded me that everything was to be done on her terms. If she had ordered me to feed her, I would have been expected to do so. But since I was offering her help in her time of need, she would not accept it. She had to have the power and control, even if it meant starving to death. She did not accept; she demanded. She was not to be cared for; she was to be succumbed to.
I gasped in surprise when the doctor placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. I don’t know if he saw the exchange between Victoria and me, but he quietly suggested I take the soup back to the kitchen and I was all too happy to obey.
I quickly left the room and heard the quiet snoring of my stepsisters echoing through the hall. As I made my way to the kitchen, I noticed all the things that were being left undone. Doing all the cooking for the family and cleaning the entire house, feeding the animals, and tending the garden usually took up all of my time. But now that I had to do all of those things—having had no sleep and caring for a seriously ill woman—I was feeling the strain.
I stood in the kitchen, the tray still in my hands, wondering where to begin, when the sound of my name suddenly broke the silence. The glass bowl clattered loudly against the tray as I spun around to see the doctor looking at me with eyes full of pity. I put the tray down on the table before it could fall from my trembling hands.
“My dear, how are you?” He spoke so gently it made me want to cry.
Whenever I saw the doctor, I remembered those last days of Father’s life and how kind he had been to me as I struggled with my father’s looming death. I opened my mouth to say I was fine, but instead my face crumpled and I buried my face in my hands. Suddenly his gentle arms were around me, and I cried onto his shoulder. He tenderly patted my back and spoke soothingly.
“There, there. You have such a heavy burden to bear. I’m so sorry. I knew things were not the same here, but I just didn’t know how bad they had become.” He paused. “I’m so sorry,” he said again. He didn’t seem uncomfortable at all to have me sobbing on him, even if it was completely out of character for me. He was probably used to it in his line of work. “Ella, dear, what can I do to help you? Is there anyone you know who could help?” He pulled back so he could look at me and got a twinkle in his eye. “A prince, perhaps?”
He was obviously referring to the ball and the very slim possibility of my marrying a prince and perhaps someday not having to worry about any of this anymore. But at the moment, my needs could not be met by a prince.
“Not unless he knows how to milk a cow.” I laughed softly through my tears.
“Maybe he has had lessons. You never know,” he said, grinning back. I laughed at what I assumed was a joke, and the doctor laughed with me.
He patted my arm, and it felt so grandfatherly that I wanted to hug him again, but I restrained myself. He smiled wearily and said, “Don’t you worry, my dear. Everything will work out in the end.”
And though I didn’t know exactly what “the end” meant, I was so grateful to the doctor for staying t
he whole night and sharing my burden. I clung to his hope that things would somehow work out. Returning a weary smile of my own, I whispered, “Thank you.”
Chapter 12
AFTER THE DOCTOR LEFT, I WENT TO CHECK ON VICTORIA. She was sitting up in her bed, as if waiting for me to come back.
“Where are the gown and slippers?” she asked calmly. I stood silently, refusing to answer, though my heart raced. She glanced over to her nightstand where she kept her stick, and her fingers twitched toward it. And then, as if she was too exhausted to care, she slowly lowered her head to her pillow and closed her eyes with a weary sigh. I stood stunned for a moment and then tiptoed out of the room, grateful that it had been unusually easy to escape punishment. I continued with my normal routine, while also feeding, washing, and caring for Victoria. That night, I slept on the chair next to her bed, my head flopping forward every few minutes, waking me up all night.
On Tuesday morning we had the same conversation about the gown and slippers—Victoria asking me where they were and me refusing to tell. Only this time, she whipped my hands pitifully, almost for tradition’s sake. It appeared that she was out of ideas and was feeling defeated. When she was done with her pathetic whipping, I hurried out to tend to the garden and the animals.
I returned to the house and ironed the dry laundry. Fatigue seemed to weigh down my arms and my eyelids as I trudged up the stairs to put my stepsisters’ clothes away. I was about to enter but stopped when I saw that Mabel and Cecelia weren’t in their rooms. They were in mine—my old room I used to sleep in before Father had died. I crossed the hall and glanced inside the open doorway. There wasn’t much left in there—a nightstand and an empty wardrobe—but everything had been overturned and thoroughly destroyed.
They were searching.
I listened in the hall as they ruined furniture and looked in corners and behind curtains.
“Why would we go to Roger’s party if we’re going to marry the prince?” Cecelia asked.
I could almost hear Mabel roll her eyes. “How are we going to marry the prince? He will only be able to marry one of us.” And by “us” she clearly meant herself. “So the other will have to marry the next best thing.” And by “best” she obviously meant richest. “Now, come on. We must find Ella’s things or no one will marry us.”
As conniving and foolish as they were, I couldn’t help laughing quietly to myself as I continued with my chores, while also feeling relieved that they were as far away from finding my things as they could be. Soon after, they left to attend Roger Wallace’s hastily planned welcome home party—a party that was surely moved up about a month so it could be held before the ball to remind all the young ladies what a catch Roger Wallace thought he was.
***
MY WHIPPING THE NEXT MORNING HAD A LITTLE MORE potency behind it. Either Victoria was getting angrier with me, or she was getting stronger. I knew Victoria was trying to break me, to force me into succumbing to her, but surprisingly, every whip of my hands only strengthened my resolve to keep my precious things hidden from her. After our daily exchange, I went about my routine of keeping the house in order and Victoria alive.
But by late morning, I was utterly exhausted. My hands bled constantly and made every task almost unbearable. I was still determined, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t pain. I had so much to do, but I would find myself wandering around the house, not being able to think clearly enough to figure out what I should be doing. I would stand motionless, staring out of a window, when I would suddenly realize that I was supposed to be washing it. I would walk into a room and have to stand there for five minutes before I remembered what I was supposed to be doing, only to realize I was in the wrong room. The vegetables needed to be harvested. The laundry was piling up. I had cream to separate and butter to churn and corn to grind and a dying woman to keep alive.
I decided it was time to recruit some help. I found some in the form of two very spoiled, very unwilling, very angry stepsisters. I ignored their offended looks at being ordered around by someone they saw as their servant, and soon started enjoying myself immensely.
“Please get fresh water for your mother’s basin, Mabel,” I said for the second time. Mabel was sitting on a chair in the corner of Victoria’s room, her arms folded across her chest. She gaped at me as if I had just asked her to part the Red Sea. I would have thought her expression was comical if I wasn’t completely fatigued and at the end of my patience. “I have been whipped enough times to know exactly how to use that thing,” I added evenly, looking toward the drawer that held Victoria’s whipping stick.
Mabel jumped out of bed and ran past me without a word. I could not hide my smile as I watched her fly down the stairs. Of course, I never would have whipped her, but the threat was effective, though I did feel a twinge of guilt for threatening at all. I had already asked Cecelia to gather the dirty laundry from off the floors in their bedrooms. Cecelia hadn’t put up much of a fight, except to stammer and then to cry. I could hear her whimpering in the next room as she picked up the clothes. The sound was as beautiful as the birds chirping outside.
It’s true I was worn out and out of patience, but in just a few short days, I had also grown bold and confident, knowing that I could take some initiative and Victoria could do nothing about it. I found a stronger voice than I had ever had and I was not afraid to use it.
Mabel returned with the water and stood in the doorway. It was nice to have help, but it was also frustrating. I could do everything in half the time my stepsisters did, but while they were unwillingly doing the things I asked them to do, I could tend to other things. While I waited for the new water, I washed the windows in Victoria’s room, dusted the table that the basin sat on, changed and fluffed Victoria’s pillows, and was smoothing her blankets by the time Mabel returned.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Will you please pour it into the basin?” They had to be told everything! Mabel did as she was asked, resentment in each arduous, angry movement, and she dashed out of the room before I could ask her to do anything else.
Victoria moaned a little and I leaned in closer so I could hear if she said anything. After a few moments of silence, I decided she must be hurting even in her sleep. I felt completely helpless, not knowing how to help her or make the pain go away. I changed the cloth on her forehead, and she grimaced a little. I waited until she was still again and quietly walked out of her dark and gloomy room. I still had to feed Mary and milk Lucy, who was certainly going to be annoyed at having to wait so long that morning.
As soon as I entered the hall, I was shocked to see that the sun was shining brightly through the east windows. Knowing that Lucy would soon be mooing loudly to be milked, I started running. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard her yet. I bolted down the stairs and saw Cecelia sulking in a corner at the bottom of the stairs.
“Please go and sit with your mother,” I said.
Cecelia crossed her arms, planted her feet on the stone floor, and scowled back at me. I paused and gave her one firm look, and she stomped her way up the stairs. The sound made me smile. I made sure she actually went in to sit with her mother and not just hide out in her own room. Once Cecelia was safely in Victoria’s room, I ran to the kitchen to head out the back door. But as I ran around the corner into the kitchen, I came to an abrupt stop.
“Nicely handled,” Will said. He was standing by the fire, warming his hands. It took me a moment to realize it wasn’t me who had started the fire.
“What are you doing here? And when did you get here?” I cried. I felt my face break into a wide smile, touched with bewilderment and relief.
“The doctor dropped by and asked if I’d help out.” He shrugged, as if saving my life and my sanity was a minor thing. “That cow is the most spoiled cow in the world,” he said. “I’ve never seen a cleaner stall.”
“Well, there’s just the one cow.” It was my turn to shrug like it was an inconsequential thing, but I smiled. It felt nice to be complimented on my hard work
, and even nicer to have someone help me who I didn’t have to beg and threaten.
“And that pampered chicken! She doesn’t like me much, that’s for sure.” He laughed, remembering what must have been terrible treatment. “I fixed the gate to the pasture so it can close all the way now, and I repaired that hole in the roof of the stable. I know there aren’t any horses in there now, but it might as well be ready for when there are.” He said it with such confidence that I couldn’t help feeling hopeful that one day there might be horses in the stable again. “Oh, and you shouldn’t have to worry about restocking the wood pile any time soon, and I replaced the bottom step of the front porch so I don’t have to worry about you twisting your ankle every time you use it.”
I stood there with my mouth hanging open. I was overwhelmed with gratitude.
“Will, I don’t know how to thank—”
“No, don’t thank me, Ella. I wouldn’t have even told you except I didn’t want you to worry about them anymore.” He sighed and lowered his head. “I feel terrible. I had no idea how sick Victoria was. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what your week has been like.” He looked at me when he noticed my stunned silence. “How are you?”
“Wonderful, now!” I cried. “I can’t thank you enough for coming. I never could have done all those things! And poor Lucy would not have liked me very much this morning.” I laughed and then cringed, remembering the time I had waited too long to milk Lucy last spring. I had been too sick to get out of bed so early and Lucy had kicked me in the stomach as soon as I got close to her. I had not been late since.
“I’m happy to help. It’s been busy at the palace this week, but I’m glad to see you’ve enlisted some help in the meantime.” He glanced upward toward the upstairs bedrooms and winked.
“They’re not too thrilled about it,” I said, laughing quietly, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one could hear us.
“You have done some pretty amazing things in your life, but getting those spoiled rotten, good-for-nothing girls off their lazy behinds tops them all!” Will cried, apparently not too concerned about who heard him.
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