Evie

Father and I walk up the hill leading to our home in silence. Now that I’m moving my blood is circulating a little better, but I’m still freezing cold. I pull Gil's coat tighter around my shoulders, grateful for its warmth. By the time we reach the house, my teeth have mostly stopped chattering. Father turns to face me.

I don’t know what I’m expecting from this man. Not an apology, certainly. But at least, I’d like to feel for just one minute that he sees me as his daughter too. That even just a little, he values me as much as Yelena.  

He considers me a minute, seems to be choosing his words very carefully. He puts his hands in his pockets, and his pinched face becomes even more pinched. Then he sighs.

“I want you to forget this business about the brooch,” he says at last. “Your sister wouldn’t have dropped it on purpose, you know that. She’s clumsy and imprudent at times, she’s naïve to a fault. But she isn’t cruel.”

I say nothing, only stare at him, a feeling of betrayal sinking deeper into my bones with each word.

“I won’t let you stir up division in the family over this. You got Kristine’s brooch back, that’s all that matters.”

“Really? That’s all that matters?”

He hesitates, hears the hurt in my voice. But in the end, he only sighs again and shakes his head. “You’re not a child anymore, Evangeline. You’ve already passed the desirable age for marriage. Your stepmother and I have graciously allowed you to continue in our home, but you can’t really imagine your status as a dependant who will never bring a wealthy man into this family is equal to Yelena’s.”

“Was that all I was ever worth to you, Father?” I say, and he winces at the title, as though it pains him to hear it. “Just a means of securing a wealthy son-in-law?” He ignores my question.

“Your contribution to this household as a servant is commendable. So long as you continue to work hard, you may live here comfortably. But I will not allow you to sow dissention in this family over some conceived slight. If I hear one more word about this brooch, I’ll take the jewel myself and have it reset as a present for Yelena. Is that clear?” 

I don’t know why I should feel hurt. Forget being equal to Yelena, he hasn’t treated me like a daughter in years. To him, I’ve always been a burden. An ugly, graceless daughter he couldn’t marry off, just deadweight in his home, eating his food and taking up one of his rooms.

“Is that clear, Evangeline?” he prompts me.

“Yes, Sir,” I say, followed by a sneeze.

Father’s hand comes out of his pocket. For a moment I really think he’ll pat my head, but in the end he withdraws.

“Get dried off. I’ll tell Mrs. Agate to brew you something hot.”

“Don’t bother. I can make it myself,” I answer coldly, and leave him there.

Returning to my room, the first thing I do is tie my mother’s brooch in an old stocking and hide it behind a loose panel in my closet. I was too careless before, keeping it in my desk drawer, but now I’m sure Yelena will never find it. 

Changing out of my wet boy’s clothes and back into my everyday dress of plain brown cloth, I carry the sodden pile to the kitchen. Stirring up coals in the fireplace, I get the fire going again and hang my clothes up to dry, along with Gil’s coat. Then I bring a kettle full of fresh water and set it on the grate over the fire and wait for it to boil while I watch the steam rise off of the wet clothes.

A servant. That’s what Father called me. But it’s as I pointed out to Mrs. Agate only this morning; servant’s get paid. All this time I’d been working imagining it was my duty to the family, but if he’s going to demote me from daughter status to servant, shouldn’t he be paying me? If he won’t, should I hire myself out to some other household that will?

I’ll admit the idea is appealing. Anything would be better than the awful situation I’m in right now. I’m a little scared when I imagine looking for work outside of the home I grew up in, but as Father pointed out, I’m no longer a child. It’s true I’m immature for my age, but I’m able and willing to work. Although, negotiating for a salary and figuring out things like room and board, I wonder if I can really do it. It would be far easier to stay where I am, where all of these things have been provided for me. But I’m beginning to think if I stay in this house much longer, my soul might really be crushed.

When the water gets hot I pour it in a mug together with cream, sugar and cocoa powder to make myself a large mug of hot chocolate. I’m not supposed to use the expensive cocoa powder; everyone knows that’s for the ladies’ desserts. But tonight, I don’t give a damn.

“I’m still a Stuart,” I murmur to myself as I sip the decadent drink and warm myself before the fire. “Surely I should be allowed this much.”

I finish my cocoa and grow drowsy in front of the fireplace, hypnotized by the dancing flames. I nod off and wake a few times, but only when I nearly fall out of my chair do I make the decision to take myself to bed. But not before impulsively taking Gil’s coat from the drying rack.

I wrap myself in the big, warm garment, feeling cozy and a little shy. It smells interesting, I think later as I curl up inside it on the bed. Like oil, horse and leather, and beneath it all, a trace of sweat. I don’t know why I should like it so much, but I do.

I fall asleep thinking of Gil’s big, evil looking face. He looks mean, I think with my fading consciousness, but he was the first person to listen to me and actually help me in I don’t know how long. Rather than evil, I think he might actually be the nicest person I’ve ever met…

I’m surprised to be shaken awake by Yelena. She’s kneeling in front of my bed, wearing a pensive expression. I sit up groggily, more surprised to see the sun in my window, and to realize it must be nine o’clock or later.

“I slept in?” I murmur.

“I brought Mama her breakfast, so don’t worry,” Yelena says, and she bites her lip suddenly. “Oh, Evangeline, I’m so sorry!” she exclaims as tears spring suddenly to her eyes, and she hugs me fiercely around my middle. “It was just awful of me to lose your mother’s brooch. You must be so angry with me! How can I ever make it up to you?”

I don’t know what to say. Yelena is like this sometimes, in possession of a conscience. It’s a little late, I think as I allow myself to hug her back. But an apology’s an apology. She’s just this kind of person, I tell myself as she brightens and smiles up at me. Even more immature than me; an innocent little devil.

“Never mind,” I tell her, deliberately leaving out the detail of my having retrieved the brooch. “How are you doing? Did you enjoy Mr. Livingston’s company yesterday?”

“Oh, yes!” she exclaims. “He’s so handsome and considerate and kind, he must really be an angel. I’ve never met anyone I liked so much in all my life.”

“He seemed to like you a good deal.”

“Don’t tease me,” she says, blushing.

“I’m not teasing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he proposed marriage within the month.”

“Oh, Evangeline, do you really think so?”

“Why not?” My smile is forced, traced with bitterness. “You’re the prettiest, sweetest girl in all of Mistleton. It was only a matter of time before you caught the eye of someone like Mr. Livingston…”