“I should go,” she said, squeezing Theodocia’s hands. “Thank you for listening. For caring.”
“You are always welcome here, my dear,” she said kindly. “Always.”
Theodocia watched Audrey leave and then turned to her son. “That girl is worth ten of Della.”
“What does that mean?” Henry frowned. “She’s nothing to me. Merely staff at the workhouse.”
Theodocia touched her son’s shoulder lightly. “Of course, she is my dear.”
The next week, Augusta and Frances settled into their new life at the workhouse. Frances was very excited about her surroundings and went bouncing about the orchards, the long hallways, the laundry, and the bakery. She attended school with Audrey, and while the other children were still learning the basics, Frances read French primary books and studied geography. Audrey often saw her sister in the back of the room, working hard on her studies with her head bent in concentration.
Her mother was a different story entirely. Since they arrived at the cottage, she went out very little, socialized with no one, and Audrey couldn’t seem to make her happy about their surroundings. She tried to bring flowers from town to brighten the cottage and bought her a lovely new hat when she was out of mourning, but nothing seemed to please her.
One night after Frances had gone to bed, Audrey was drawing up lesson plans for the children across from her mother, who was rocking herself in the chair. She seemed to be at peace, and she hoped time would help them in this new little cottage.
“I saw the strangest thing, Audrey. So strange,” her mother said suddenly.
Audrey looked up and placed her pen aside. The gaslights threw shadows into the corners of the room. “What did you see?”
“I couldn’t sleep the other night. So, I warmed some milk and took it up to my room. I was looking out the window. It must have been past midnight. It was so quiet, and the sky was so black. And I saw someone moving about near those buildings past the orchard,” Augusta said as she continued rocking.
Audrey frowned. “What buildings?”
“What did you say those buildings were over there? I know you told me,” she asked.
“I’m not sure I know their names myself, Mother.” But Audrey knew she was speaking about the chapel and mortuary. Audrey shivered a little.
“The figure was carrying something. They headed towards that building over there and then disappeared from sight,” Augusta said.
“They must be working,” Audrey assured her.
“In the middle of the night?”
“Well, some things may need to take place at night,” Audrey said but even she felt the words were si
lly.
“Hmph.” The mantel clocked ticked, and Augusta sighed. “I don’t like this place. It’s unseemly that you should be teaching such riffraff.”
Audrey sighed. This was not the first time her mother had expressed such feelings.
“And I don’t approve of Frances being in the classroom with them,” Augusta said.
“Frances is perfectly fine in the classroom. She’s always with me, even at mealtimes.” Audrey told her.
Augusta looked across at Audrey and then into the small fireplace. “I have a bad feeling about this place. I don’t like it.”
Audrey placed her work to the side. “We must get used to it. This is our home now.”
She kissed her mother’s cheek and left the room. As she climbed the stairs, she heard her mother mumbling to herself.
The next evening, she went to visit Marguerite and found she was not her only visitor.
“Dearie, this is my gentleman caller, Alistair Hillby. Alistair, this is Audrey Wakefield. I told you about her. She’s the schoolmistress.”
The gentleman was dressed in his uniform with his clothes neatly pressed and his hair brushed back. He cut a neat and trim figure.
“Mr. Hillby,” she greeted him.