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Audrey thought of the older woman dancing barefoot and singing in her little room and wondered at the truth of his words.

“She seemed quite nice, if a little eccentric,” Audrey recalled.

“I don’t think she’s ever given anyone any trouble,” he said. “She keeps to herself, and I believe does embroidery and stitching to pay her way.”

“If it’s true, what an interesting life she must have led.” Audrey stood and brushed off her skirt. “I must return to the workhouse. Good night, gentlemen.”

Audrey lay in bed. Light from the small window outside flickered inside the room. She was settling into the life at the workhouse and hoped in a few weeks’ time she could send for her mother and sister. She would ask the Matron and Master for a larger room, and once they arrived, they would be a family again.

She was looking forward to speaking at Theodocia’s club meeting and had written down some preliminary words for the event. She wanted to impart some knowledge to the ladies of the group and hoped they would be interested in her experiences.

She closed her eyes and saw Marguerite dancing in her small room to the music only she could hear. She wondered if what Joseph had said was true. Had she been an actress on the stage and mistress to a king of England? It seemed fanciful. If she had been, how sad that she had fallen so far from being a king’s mistress to an inmate in the workhouse. But she supposed that was exactly the purpose of the workhouse. For people who could not make it, to enter the workhouse and hopefully get back on their feet. Only some, like Marguerite, would never leave.

She turned onto her side away from the window and the light. Tomorrow would be another day to help educate the children inside these walls and prove to everyone that she could do the job.

Chapter Ten

The next day went smoothly, and Audrey was beginning to feel that she could make this a success. The children were relating to her more, and she was able to have quality time with them, using it to learn the alphabet and begin to write simple sentences. She taught basic Christian principles, and though the chaplain never visited her classroom, she left him periodic notes on her progress.

Matron had visited her classroom one morning, sat in the back of the room, and watched everyone’s movements like a hawk. Luckily, there had been no mishaps, and after an hour, she had left. Audrey had given the children an extra ten minutes in the yard for not making her look and feel stupid.

She had written herself some simple notes to discuss with the society women’s club, and at the end of the week, when the time came for her to attend the club and make a decent presentation of the workhouse schoolroom, Audrey was ready.

It was a cool evening when she set out for the evening club meeting. Mrs. Ryland preferred evening meetings, though the reason behind it versus a leisurely Saturday or Sunday afternoon was unknown to her.

After being admitted into the grand house by the river, she was taken to the large back parlor, where several women were already seated drinking tea and chatting. Several looked up at her and took in her appearance before resuming their conversation.

“Ms. Wakefield!” Theodocia said warmly as she entered the room, followed by a maid who carried a tray of teacups and sandwiches.

“Good evening, Mrs. Ryland,” Audrey greeted her in turn.

“Place those cups there and the sandwiches next to them,” she directed the maid, and then turned her attention to Audrey. “I am so pleased you could join us. Especially on an evening when I know you’ve worked a full week. That must be tiring.”

“Not at all. I am pleased you asked me. Though I did wonder why you don’t meet on a Saturday or Sunday,” she said honestly.

“I’ll tell you the truth,” she said in a whisper. “We used to meet Saturday afternoons. And the afternoons would drag on, and these women would never leave. Now they have about two hours to bore me to tears before I can pleasantly say good night.” Theodocia winked, and Audrey smiled. “Help yourself to a cup of tea and sandwiches, my dear. We’ll get started shortly. We have some housekeeping business to discuss as a club and then you’ll speak.”

Audrey did as Theodocia suggested and helped herself to a cup of tea and a cucumber sandwich. As she ate the small sandwich, she realized she’d had very little to eat that day. She took another sandwich and then found an unoccupied seat in the back row.

“Are you the new schoolmistress at the workhouse?” an older lady asked her, coming to sit beside her.

She eyed the woman. “I am. I’m Audrey Wakefield.”

“Theodocia said she had an intriguing woman to speak at our club meeting and mentioned what you do. How tiresome it must be to work all day long in such a filthy place.” The woman said it as if it were a terrible thing to endure.

“It can be very tiring,” Audrey admitted, “but also rewarding.”

“Rewarding? How so? Teaching dirty urchin children from the gutter? Hardly what a lady would or should do.” Her tone was condescending.

Audrey took a deep breath. “Perhaps a lady would not. But I’m merely a woman who must make her way in the world.”

The woman smiled coldly. “Indeed.”

Audrey sighed as the woman left her and sipped her tea. Class distinction was a real issue, and she was looked down upon for holding a job. No one in the room knew she was a vicar’s daughter or that she had been educated better than most of them. All that mattered was that she worked for a living as a schoolmistress, which meant she was a small step above the inmates and a step below the people here.

“We’ll begin momentarily,” Theodocia whispered to her as she passed by to greet another club member who had entered the room.

Audrey placed her teacup and saucer to the side and brushed down her black skirt. In her small purse, she removed a page of handwritten notes to help guide her presentation and was reading them to refresh her memory when she heard a murmur sweep through the group of ladies.


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