Frances huffed in exasperation. “Come, Audrey! I’m sincere. Give me my present.”
“Greedy goose!” Audrey said as she felt inside her dress pocket and pulled out the lamb. “Since you promise so solemnly, here is your present.”
Audrey handed the small wooden lamb to her sister. Frances gasped as she looked at the intricately carved lamb.
“Oh, Audrey! It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said, smiling.
Audrey kissed her sister’s forehead. “You’re welcome. Now say your prayers and go to bed.”
“Good night, Audrey.”
“Good night, Lambkin.”
Audrey closed the door to her sister’s room and checked on her mother in the parlor. She had retired as well. She turned off the gaslights and went to her own room. A weight settled on her shoulders. Her young sister should not be burdened with their troubles. She should not have to worry about their rent, their livelihood, their circumstances. She was a child.
As a young woman of twenty-five, Audrey could shoulder the burden of her family’s troubles, and she would.
She was capable, and for the first time since her father died, she understood what the doctor had said all those weeks ago. She was strong. Her father had known it, the doctor had as well, and now she felt it. She would be the one to help keep their family afloat and sustain them. She must. There was no other option.
She picked up the day’s newspaper that lay on her desk and turned up the gas lamp next to her. She scanned the long row of advertisements, looking carefully at each one.
Wanted. Strong kitchen girl, able to bake, wash and feed calves; age not under 18.
Audrey sighed. She might be over eighteen years of age, but baking was not in her repertoire, and she had never milked a calf in her life. She scanned further down the page.
Wanted. In a first-class collegiate school, in the north, a governess, to teach music, singing and theory of music.
Audrey shook her head. She might be able to play the piano and sing reasonably well but not enough to teach in a collegiate school. The next one caught her attention.
Wanted. A respectable, steady young woman, about 24 years of age, as a servant of all work. She must be a good plain cook and have a twelvemonth’s character from her last situation. No Irish need apply.
Audrey sighed. It didn’t sound like a good fit at all. She could only cook a few dishes, porridge and tea being two of them, and she could provide a character reference from Dr. Thomson and Mr. Felton but nothing from her last situation, as she had never held a job. She moved along the column, tapping her pencil as she went.
Wanted in Gentlemen’s Family, a short distance from Hastings, a good parlor maid. She must be accustomed to the care of plate, glass and waiting at table. A thoroughly respectable, steady young woman, of religious character, desired.
Audrey shook her head. She had never been in service nor had she ever waited a table. No, that would not do. Next.
Wanted. In private family, short distance in the country, a neat tidy, young girl for light chamberwork and waiting at table.
No, thought Audrey. Her education and background were not suited to a chambermaid. She scanned along the column again.
WANTED – To take charge of three children. A Protestant woman (Scotch preferred), who is fully competent in all respects. Must have unexceptionable references, and willing to spend the Summer in the country.
Audrey circled that advertisement with her pencil. It gave the address of where to apply. She wondered what Dr. Thomson would make of it. She might be
suitable for this position, but there still remained the issue of her mother and sister.
Audrey heard the clock chime. It was getting late. It had been raining on and off that evening, but it had since stopped. It was quiet and still in the cottage, and she looked outside her bedroom window that had a view of the rose garden. Her father had loved his roses, she remembered sadly. He had said he felt closer to God more in his garden than in the church. He said roses were made by God for man to admire and behold his beauty.
She rubbed her neck. She was tired, and sleep was calling her. She changed into her nightgown, and after turning off the lamp, she went to bed.
Enoch Thomson settled into the cognac-colored chair and lit his pipe. He traveled only occasionally to London, and when he did, he always stayed at his club The Athenaeum. He liked his club because it was located on Pall Mall in central London and near everything.
The building was a handsome cream-colored structure with Grecian pillars dominating the entrance, taking its name from the Greek goddess of wisdom, Athena. The club contained an extensive library, a dining room, a drawing room on the first floor, a smoking room on the upper floor, and a suite of bedrooms. Often, if he had business to attend to in town, he could be pleasantly situated in the club and have everything he needed.
He thoughtfully sipped his Glenlivet Scotch and waited for his guest to arrive. Before he had left the village, he had thought long and hard about Audrey and the Wakefield family. He had been sad to hear that Ezra had not provided for his daughters and wife, and he had wondered how he could help them and, in particular, Audrey.
When she mentioned going to college again recently, he had been concerned. He had told her the truth about bringing her mother and sister with her. It was an obstacle. He knew of few homes that would allow it, if any. But his bigger concern had been placing her in a decent home. Many grand houses needed servants and help, but when it came to a girl as lovely as Audrey, he could well see the master of the house taking advantage of her and forcing her into a position that would not be respectable.