Chapter Five: Ellie

Wherever my stepmother went that Saturday afternoon, she returned in a foul mood. Nothing satisfied her. The tea was too cold. How could we expect her to drink it from such worn tea cups? The evening meal was too plain. The cottage was too drafty.

It was after Mrs. Burke demanded I fetch a shawl for her that Mrs. Haynes pulled me aside to say, ""Watch yourself, Miss Ellie. Your stepmother and stepsister will easily put you in the role of servant if you let them. Once that happens, it will be next to impossible to get any respect."

"Why would they do that? What benefit is that to anyone?"

"Do you think I didn't hear her this morning? By implying that your mother was not a lady, it will be too easy for the rest of our neighbors to see you in the same light. It is absolutely not a circumstance your father would have wanted for you. No father would."

A surge of bitterness twisted in my stomach. "I think my father expected my stepmother to look after me, and not leave me alone in the country for twelve years."

Mrs. Haynes just shook her head. "Just be careful."

Sleep had not come easily that night. I didn't want to believe Mrs. Haynes' suspicions were true, but I could see she had reason to worry. Harriet had insisted I help her dress, though I didn't know the first thing about dressing another person. I'd always managed alone since I became a teenager.

Sunday dawned cloudy and grey, which perfectly reflected my mood. I picked up my best dress. Two days before, it had been well enough, even with its flaws. Now, though, when I compared it to the gowns of my stepmother and stepsister, it was drabby and dull.

With a sigh, I pulled it over my head and then tied the ribbons just under my bosom. I ran my hand over the skirt, wishing there had been something in the attic to make over. But we had used every old dress in the previous years. It was what it was and, as Mrs. Haynes always said, there was no use wishing for what could not be.

Instead of my usual no nonsense braid, I attempted a more appropriate arrangement. It took several minutes before I managed to fasten my blonde hair into place at the base of my neck. I knew better than to try for the curls around my face that were so in fashion.

A cracked mirror was all I had to check my appearance in and all I saw were flaws. "Anyone would mistake me for a servant," I said under my breath, shaking my head. "And I wouldn't blame them. I bet that Mr. Turner thought I was a servant when he met me."

But the neighbors knew who I was; that I was the daughter of a captain. They wouldn't look down on me now just because my stepmother had arrived, would they? They wouldn't believe Mrs. Burke's lies after so many years. They couldn't.

When I went down the stairs, I stepped softly. Normally, I might have raced down, but it seemed the course of wisdom to tread carefully. Who knew how foul a mood my stepmother would be if I woke her early.

Once upon a time I'd wondered if my negative opinion of my stepmother was merely the annoyance of a child having someone new telling her what to do. Now, though, I was certain I was not to blame. My stepmother was a difficult woman to please and I saw little reason to make an effort.

Mrs. Haynes had hot porridge waiting for me. "You're looking mighty pretty today, Miss Ellie," she said. "You ought to wear your hair like that more often. It makes you look like a lady."

"You've never called me Miss Ellie before," I said as she sat down. "Why have you started now?"

"It seems I am to blame for you being so familiar with the life of a servant," Mrs. Haynes said, her tone sad. "I've been so used to it being you and me, and there was so much for one person to do. I shouldn't have forgotten that you are the daughter of the house. I'd never have been so bold in another household."

"I hope you're not going to call me Miss Burke. I won't know what to say to that!" My attempt to turn the tone to a more jovial one fell flat.

"And that's another thing that can be laid at my door. When you were a child, calling you Ellie was natural. I ought to have known better. You are Miss Elinor Burke and that ought not be forgotten."

Reaching over, I put my hand on the woman's arm. "Please don't blame yourself. I think we both know who is really responsible." I glanced up at the ceiling. "Not that she will ever admit to being in the wrong."

"Mind your tongue, Miss Ellie," Mrs. Haynes chided. "She's still in charge of you, and you don't want to make her mad."

"What is she going to do? Take away my dress allowance?" I honestly could think of nothing her stepmother could do that would be any punishment. Unless it was remaining in Meadowbrooke Cottage, which was a ridiculous idea. Mrs. Burke would never want to stay away from the center of society and fashion for any length of time.

"She just might fire me, and then where will you be?"

"I think she's too selfish to do that. If she fired you, who would cook our meals or keep everything clean? Me?"

"She just might. Would you sit by and let your home fall to ruin?"

At the serious question, I paused. "No, I don't suppose I could let that happen. Not when you've taught me how to work hard. But she wouldn't expect me to manage the household!"

"I've seen women like your stepmother before. They are selfish, but that makes them smart. They find ways to make sure they get what they want out of life. And just when you think you've worked out what they are doing, they have you trapped into doing exactly what they want."

If the woman hadn't looked so serious, I might have laughed. My stepmother was self-centered, it was true, but manipulative?

The little used bell against the wall rang, cutting off any further conversation. "Eat your breakfast," Mrs. Haynes said, wiping her hands on her apron. "I'll see what the ladies need."

As she hurried away, I bent over my breakfast. The thick porridge was my least favorite but I knew it would keep me full until after church. I just wished there was a little sugar to go in it.

When the housekeeper returned, her face was set in angry lines. "What's wrong?" I asked, wondering what complaint my stepmother had at this time of day.

"Your stepmother has requested your help in dressing."

"My help?" I repeated, certain I had heard wrong. Hadn't Mrs. Burke heard from her own daughter how little help I would be? Harriet had certainly made no secret of her complaints last night. "What does she think I could do?"

"I don't know," Mrs. Haynes said. She waved her hand towards the doorway. "I offered to help her, but she insisted that I come down here and prepare her eggs. Seems she has something to say to you and you must help her at the same time."

The words sent a shiver down my spine. What could my stepmother have to say to me? "I hope she won't take too long," I said as I stood up. "Yesterday she wasn't up until nearly eleven o'clock. That will be too late for church."

"After her conversation with the vicar's wife yesterday, I don't think she would dare miss Sunday service. It would cause too much talk, you know."

Holding back a sigh, I headed to the door. I abandoned any hope to be quiet as I climbed the stairs and the steps creaked under my feet. I passed the door to my bedroom and went to the room that had once belonged to my parents.

Mrs. Burke was seated in the bed. "Ah, there you are, Elinor," she said. Her gaze moved up and down. "Is that really what you are wearing to church? It is no better than that brown thing you were wearing yesterday."

"Yes, ma'am." Though I was trying not to be embarrassed, I felt a flush spread across my cheeks at the criticism. "I've not had a new gown in some time. You said there was no money for such a frivolous request. I still have the letter if you don't remember."

The older woman gave a huff. "Of course. It is always my fault, isn't it? You always blame me."

Who else would I have blamed? "I don't think I will be much help to you, ma'am," I said, turning back to the point of me being up there. Arguing would get us nowhere. "I don't know about dressing another person."

The other woman raised an eyebrow. "You never call me mama or mother. Why is that?"

"Because I had a mother and she died." Never mind that I couldn't remember much about my mother, just vague impressions. Had Mrs. Burke been a kinder woman, I might have been willing to accept her in a motherly position. But that hadn't been the case.

"I think as your stepmother I deserve some respect from you," Mrs. Burke said, swinging her legs off the bed. "Not everyone is willing to take on a child when they marry, you know."

"Not everyone should, either," I said under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, ma'am. If you really want help, I think I should get Mrs. Haynes for you. She will—"

"If I had wanted the cook's help, I would have told her when she was up here." Mrs. Burke stood up and grabbed a wrapper from the chair next to the bed. "I want to know what you have told your neighbors."

The question was not one I had expected. "About what?"

Mrs. Burke frowned at me as she walked to the dressing table. "About your father. Me. Your sister. What have you said about us?"

"I've never spoken of your daughter. There has never been a need or reason to bring my stepsister up in conversation." That much, at least, was easy to admit to. What exactly was Mrs. Burke wanting to hear? "I've said my father is Captain Burke and that he died twelve years ago. That is hardly a secret."

"What have you said about me?"

Though I couldn't remember the details of what I'd said over the years, I knew that most of it had not been kind. "That you are my stepmother and you remained in London after my father died."

For a moment, the woman stared at her in the mirror's reflection. "I'm sure that's not all you've said." Mrs. Burke reached for her hairbrush. Her black hair had subtle streaks of gray in it that had been hidden when the woman's hair was pinned up. "You've made it very clear that you don't like me."

It seemed better to remain silent, so I did just that. "That's what I thought. I assure you the feeling is mutual," her stepmother continued. "Well, we'll just have to do something about that, won't we?"

"What do you mean?"

"I will have to be here for at least a month or so," Mrs. Burke said, brushing her hair. Her gaze didn't move from mine for a moment. "I have no intention of being ...uncomfortable. So we will have to create a story where we all can be happy."

"You want to lie to my neighbors and friends."

She scoffed. "I suppose you would think these people are your friends. Once you reach my age, you will realize that no one is your friend, Elinor. Everyone simply wants to use you to get what they want in the world. Either you let that happen or you use them to get what you want."

Could that really be how she saw the world? "I don't believe that."

But my stepmother merely smiled "Well, we'll just have to see which of us is correct, won't we?"

"I'm not going to lie to anyone."

"Fine. You won't say a word then." Mrs. Burke slammed her hairbrush down, making me jump. "In fact, that will be better for us all. You will do as I say or there will be consequences."

Though I had laughed before, now I wasn't so sure I had reason to be amused. "What would you do?"

"If you do as I say, at least keep silent about what I tell people, I will agree to repair your precious Meadowbrooke." The woman waved her hand. "The roof. The mold. All of it will be fixed by the summer's end and you can continue living here for as long as you want."

That sounded nice but... "What would be the price of that?"

Again, my stepmother's lips curved into a smirk. "You say nothing about who you are. You let me tell my story and keep your mouth shut."

Mrs. Burke's simple statement was more confusing than ever. "What do you mean?" I asked. "What story?"

"While we are here, Harriet will be my stepdaughter. You will be the maid. A poor maid who told a silly story about being Captain Burke's daughter."

That was so ridiculous it made me laugh and I shook my head. "After twelve years of my telling everyone the truth, you think my neighbors will believe I had lied all this time? And why would you want to say Harriet is your stepdaughter?"

"I have my reasons."

What reasons would be good enough for such a complicated web of lies? "No. I won't do it. I won't let you lie to everyone. Meadowbrooke can go without the repairs. We've found a way before and we will again."

"Ah, but then there are the consequences I mentioned earlier." Mrs. Burke turned in her chair and fixed an unwavering stare on me. "I believe you have heard of Bedlam Hospital?"

"Yes," I said warily. Who hadn't heard of the hospital? Those who...didn't fit in society were sent there or places like it. "Why?"

"Did you know that patients can be sent there just on the word of the person who is responsible for them?" Mrs. Burke's smile had an edge to it. "Imagine the story I could weave. 'Oh, doctor. My poor step daughter. She never listens. She acts like a servant. I don't know what else to do for her.'"

My breath caught in my throat. "You wouldn't."

"I promise you I would," Mrs. Burke stood up and took one step towards me. "It would be an expense, I'm sure, but I wouldn't have to bother with you ever again. And I still get what I want."

"But there is nothing wrong with me!"

Mrs Burke let out a delighted laugh. "I imagine you wouldn't be the only innocent person who managed to be difficult to her family. In fact, you might be in good company. Would that make you feel better?"

"You can't do that!"

The woman's hand shot out and grabbed my arm. "Do you think I am bluffing?" Mrs. Burke asked, her tone even. "Marriage to your father was supposed to raise my status, give me what I wanted. But all I got out of it was you. I think it's time I changed that."

As the woman's grip tightened, I bit my lip to keep from crying out. "You're the one who is insane," I whispered. She hated me. Maybe as much as I had hated her when I was a child.

"Could someone who is insane make a plan like I have?" Mrs. Burke pushed me back. "Now, give me your word that you won't say anything."

"What are you going to tell people?"I asked, putting my shaking hand on the wall.

"That is no concern of yours."

"When you are about to change my very history, I think it is."

"Oh, it will be just a simple story. We will say that you are Captain Burke's daughter. That should please you. However, we will say you were not legitimate. I was kind enough to send you somewhere you could have a life. I will be very apologetic for not warning them."

How could such a story please me? "My mother does not deserve to be slandered like that!"

"She's dead. What does it matter? Either give me your word or I will send you to Bedlam this very afternoon."

I couldn't think straight. The only thing I was certain of was that my stepmother meant every word of her threat. "Alright," I said, offering a prayer of forgiveness. "I won't say anything. Tell your dirty lies. I don't think anyone will believe you."

"Oh, they will. Everyone always loves to believe the worst of people, especially when it comes to those who are beneath them." Mrs. Burke turned away. "Collect your things. You're going to sleep in the attic like a proper maid. Oh, and tell Mrs. Haynes to hurry up. It shouldn't take this long to boil a few eggs."

Backing to the door, I asked, "Why did Father marry you? What could he have seen in you?"

"He saw what I wanted him to see," Mrs. Burke said with a laugh. "Now do as I say. And remember. You're sitting in the back of the church today and every Sunday I am here. Like a servant would."

Without answering, I opened the door and slipped through. Almost immediately, I came face to face with Mrs. Haynes. The woman held a tray in her hands, which was in danger of losing the items on it. She was staring at me in open horror. "Miss Ellie," she whispered. "You can't."

"I have to." I didn't ask how much the woman had heard. She'd obviously heard enough to know something was wrong. "Mrs. Burke is waiting for her breakfast."

Ducking her head, I ran for what had been her temporary bedroom. I had no attachment to it. It would be the work of minutes to transfer all of my things to the attic. And, on the plus side, it would put me farther away from her step-family.

Tears were on my cheeks and I swiped at them. My word had been given and I would live up to it. No matter how much it hurt.

Besides. No one would believe her.