“Oh, Cruella,” said Anita, but she stopped at that. I didn’t need Anita to tell me I had hurt Miss Pricket’s feelings. Well, it had to be done. I couldn’t have a lady’s maid who treated me like a child.
“Come on,” I said, changing the subject. “Let’s finish getting ready. Jackson is going to ring the gong for dinner any moment now.” But they didn’t move. “What?” I said. “Why are you looking at me like I killed a puppy?”
Christmastime was always my favorite time of year. It did something to me. It made me softer. More kindhearted. Not an affliction I fall prey to lately. But back then I loved the days leading up to Christmas almost as much as I loved the day itself.
Mama and Papa always made sure the servants made a big fuss over the winter holiday. I always looked forward to the day the tree and holiday hampers would arrive, and so did our servants. The banisters and mantels were covered with garland and every vase was filled with holiday flowers. To the left of the grand staircase, in the nook near the door leading to the morning room, was our enormous Christmas tree. It reached all the way up to the next landing. The servants always decorated it beautifully. It would be covered in delicate ornaments my family had been collecting for generations, along with tiny flickering candles, their light dancing and reflecting off the shining baubles.
Miss Pricket had invited Anita and me to help with the decorating that year. In the past I would have been eager to place the star at the top of the tree, but now I planned to take my mama’s place until she was scheduled to arrive later that evening. I was determined to do all the things Mama would have done if she were there. I wanted her to come home and see I had arranged for everything perfectly. I wanted to please her. And I wanted her to see we didn’t need her damnable Mrs. Web. Besides, Mama never helped the servants with decorating. She would sit in the morning room until the decorating was complete, then come out to say how lovely it was once the servants were finished. So that is what I was doing. I was wearing a lovely red dress and my jade earrings. I certainly looked the part of lady of the house.
So I let Anita do the honors, and she seemed to be having a grand time of it. I could hear her happy voice while I was in the morning room, and I almost wished I was out there with them when the hampers arrived. There was always so much excitement over the Christmas hampers before they were sent downstairs to the dungeon so Mrs. Baddeley could do her magic. Later I would hear braces of pheasants, a goose, and numerous other delights were delivered for our holiday meals. Even the servants would take a break from their usual fare of meat pies and stews to have a holiday feast of their own.
My mother had sent along gifts for our servants and a note asking that I wrap them. She would be home in time to present them all with their Christmas gifts, as was our yearly tradition. She had gotten some yards of cloth for the maids so they could make themselves new dresses, new spats for the footmen and driver, a fine broach for Miss Pricket, a new pocket watch for Jackson, and a pendant watch for Mrs. Web. She had also sent little candied fruits and an assortment of chocolates, and had told Jackson to open some of the bottles from the cellars for their Christmas Day dinner. My mother was always generous with the servants during Christmas, and she always remarked that I should do the same when I had a household of my own one day. “A servant will forgive almost anything if you are generous during the holidays,” she would say.
I let Anita amuse herself with helping the servants with the decorations while I prepared the gifts. And I took the opportunity to wrap Anita’s gifts while she was busy with Miss Pricket, fussing over the tree. The house was abuzz with the sounds of laughter, music, and merrymaking, and I was becoming more excited than ever to see my mama.
“Cruella, it’s time to dress for dinner.” It was Miss Pricket, poking her head into the morning room, where I had been all day wrapping gifts. I’d had no idea it had gotten so late.
“Time to dress for dinner? Has Mama arrived?” I felt my heart flutter with excitement. “Ow—blast it!” I fiddled with my earring, because it was pinching something awful.
“Here, let me help you with that,” Miss Pricket said, gently loosening the clasp. I immediately felt relief.
“Thank you, Miss Pricket. It’s been bothering me all day.” Miss Pricket gave
me a sad, familiar look. I had seen that look so many times. It always meant the same thing.
“She isn’t coming, is she?”
“I’m so sorry, but your mother won’t be here for dinner. Cruella, dear, now that you’re older I feel as if I can speak to you like a sister or friend might. It breaks my heart to see her treat you so deplorably.”
I reeled in shock.
“What’s that, Miss Pricket? What did you say?” I thought I hadn’t heard her correctly. Surely she hadn’t just spoken out against my mama.
“I’m sorry, Miss Cruella, but I know you’re heart-broken. I can see it on your face. I’ve watched her break your heart almost every day since you were a little girl, and she’s breaking it still.”
“You know nothing of my heart, Miss Pricket. My mama loves me. How dare you insinuate otherwise.” Looking back, I don’t understand why I tried to defend my mama to her. I knew how my mama felt about me; I didn’t need to convince an in-between that my mother loved me.
“She hasn’t written or seen you since right after your father died. Not since she sent you away to school. That is no way to treat a daughter.”
“She sends me gifts,” I said, still in shock to hear Miss Pricket speaking with such candid impertinence.
“She’s always given you gifts, Miss Cruella. That is all she has ever given you. It’s all she will ever give you, the heartless, cruel, and horrible woman she is. Beautiful gifts, and nothing of herself.”
This time she had crossed the line. She presumed too much. She let her in-between status lead her to believe we were true friends—sisters, even. She’d let it lead her to believe she could speak that way to me about my mother. I didn’t have to say another word. She saw the look on my face, and we both knew there was no mending this. I could never look at her the same way again. I could never trust her. She had to go.
The in-between tried to mutter more apologies, but I cut her off before she could say another word. I hastily stuffed some banknotes I got from the desk in an envelope and put it in her hand.
“Here is your severance, Miss Pricket.”
“You’re dismissing me?” Her mouth hung open. Though I couldn’t fathom her thinking I would keep her on after everything she had said.
“Of course I am. Don’t be foolish. I couldn’t possibly keep you on.”
It was such a strange yet liberating feeling taking charge in this way. I realized in that moment I was on the precipice of a new chapter in my life. I was becoming a lady, and with that came enormous responsibility. I felt very sure my mama would be proud of me for taking charge in this way. Not only for taking control over my own life but for defending her. Miss Pricket had, until that moment, been a very important part of my life, but I couldn’t have her or anyone else creating a wedge between me and my mama. She had overstepped the mark, that invisible line that divides us from our servants. And it was a very important lesson—I would not let myself become emotionally involved with anyone from my staff again.
“But I have nowhere to go.” Her eyes filled with tears, but my heart had closed off to her. Her tears didn’t sway me.
“That is of no consequence to me. You may stay the night in your quarters. But I don’t wish to see you here tomorrow morning.”