Sophie's Rebellion. Beverley Boissery
due respect, milady.”
Lady Theo looked at Luc, at his ripped jacket, torn trousers, and dirty, bloodied face with appreciation. “Luc, if I or Mr. Mallory can ever help you, do not hesitate to ask. You have my word on it,” she told him, holding out her hand. “Thank you.”
Sophie looked at Luc. She, more than Lady Theo, knew exactly how much she owed him. “I thank you too. And I promise to help you as well, no matter what.”
Luc blushed, smiled his thanks, and limped off. Lady Theo turned to Sophie. “Now, young lady, let’s go back to the house and get your injuries looked after. Then you and I are going to have a little talk. One of several I plan to have before the day’s over.”
CHAPTER FOUR
That night the house was crowded. The ABCs, their wives, and all their children gathered in the Green Drawing Room. Apologies were tendered and graciously accepted. Harmony should reign, thought Sophie.
But she knew, maybe more than anyone, that the strange war she’d sensed just days earlier had only intensified. Bert’s wife, the one whose comments had precipitated most of the day’s troubles, did not seem remorseful. She wore a “biding my time” look on her face that she thought no one noticed.
Elias assumed an angelic expression when he apologized for his conduct towards Lady Theo, but the glance he gave Sophie was pure venom. As he passed her he whispered, “It’s too bad the Morrisets have gone back to Montreal, isn’t it? Who’ll look after you next week when your father and Lady Thornleigh are in Lower Canada, now that Luc’s gone? I can’t wait to find out, can you?”
Sophie glared, but before she could answer the ABCs rose to their feet, along with their wives and children. Bart walked to the door but Bert stopped to play the diplomat. After kissing Lady Theo’s cheek, he showed his teeth in that crocodile’s grin. “Now that’s dealt with, perhaps life can go on as before. Remember what the Bard said, ‘All’s well that ends well.’ I’m sure the children will be the best of friends again now that they’ve let this out of their system. Boys will be boys and all that.”
“If he thinks that, he’s either remarkably stupid or even more clever than I’ve given him credit for,” Lady Theo commented acerbically once everyone had left. “I’m tired. Let’s get the final piece of business over with; then we can finish with this dreadful day.”
With that she rang the bell for Mrs. Bates, and when the housekeeper appeared, requested five minutes of her time. “And ask Mary to come as well, please.”
When Mrs. Bates stalked back into the room with Mary, Lady Theo beckoned Sophie across to where her father sat. “Show your arms to your papa, child,” she said softly.
Sophie felt ashamed. “I don’t want to,” she whispered.
“You must,” Lady Theo replied, so adamantly that Sophie reluctantly pushed one sleeve up to reveal the ugly black and blue bruises speckling her arm. Her papa gasped audibly and scowled, and Lady Theo turned to Mrs. Bates and Mary. “How could you have allowed this to happen?”
For once, Mrs. Bates was flustered. “We didn’t know,” she began.
“Didn’t know? Didn’t know that Daniel, his sister, and the twins have been making this child’s life a living hell for the past few weeks? Didn’t know, you say; well, I say, I think not.”
“We didn’t know it was this bad,” Mrs. Bates went on, trying to redeem herself.
“What about you, Mary? What excuse can you give? You’re the one Mr. Mallory entrusts Miss Sophie’s care to. You’re the one that bathes her, that dresses her, aren’t you?”
“I — I tried saying something, your ladyship,” Mary began, red-faced, but lapsed into silence immediately upon one glare from Mrs. Bates.
Sophie could see that Lady Theo wanted throw her hands up into the air in a gesture of defeat as she recognized the housekeeper’s iron grip on her staff. For a moment Sophie thought Mrs. Bates had won.
Then her father stood. “Mrs. Bates,” he began, “you’ve worked for the Mallorys for forty-some years. You’ve had charge of this house for more years than I want to think about. But once I marry, that will change. You have to understand that. My wife will control this household. And more importantly, you must also understand that I will never allow anyone to hurt my daughter. No one. You should have told me what was happening.”
“And what would have happened to me if I did?” Mrs. Bates answered bitterly. “For the past three years, it’s been Mr. Bert and Mr. Bart who have kept everything going while you were in England making friends with your family’s enemies. They kept the place going, not you. It’s their children who came for cookies every day, not Miss Sophie. Don’t you think it’s natural for them to feel that she’s a stranger taking over their place?” She looked defiantly at Benjamin’s stony face and modified her aggressiveness, a little — a very little. “Her ladyship’s right though about the children. They should not have done what they did. But you must understand, Mr. Mallory: to them, she’s an outsider.”
“Mrs. Bates, bullies don’t deserve your excuses or your protection. Particularly that of your silence,” Benjamin said. “Furthermore, the decisions I make about the way I serve my country are mine and should be respected. If you want to leave my service, I’ll write you a reference. You’ve been a good housekeeper and served the family well until recently. But if you decide to stay, you must understand that I and mine come first. My decisions are not to be gossiped about. My activities are not to be tattled to my sons, as I’m sure you’ve been doing. My daughter’s welfare will come first, before my grandchildren’s. Finally, my dear Theodosia will have complete and total charge of the household. I’ll give you a week to think it over. Then, you must choose. Understood?”
The chastened housekeeper left the room without another word, and Mary turned to go with her. But Lady Theo stopped her. “Just a moment, Mary,” she began. “Mr. Mallory and I will be taking Miss Sophie with us when we leave for Beauharnois the day after tomorrow. Pack a trunk for her that does not include the horrible brown dresses she’s been wearing since I arrived. You must know that brown is one of the worst colours for her. Brown with her black hair and blue eyes? Unthinkable.”
Mary dropped a curtsey. “Begging your pardon, your ladyship. Mrs. Bates says that brown’s the most serviceable colour for children. All the Mallory children wear it, including Miss Sophie.”
“Doesn’t she have dresses in any other colour?”
“Just for church.”
“Then pack those. If you can find someone who can make her some new dresses by the time we leave, do so. Understood?”
Mary nodded, and Lady Theo continued. “Now Mary, you heard what Mr. Mallory said to Mrs. Bates. I’ll give you the same choice. I believe that you have Miss Sophie’s interests at heart. If you want to work for us, you’ll have to always put Miss Sophie’s interests first. That also means you’ll have to agree to go with us to Beauharnois as Miss Sophie’s maid. You might like to be out of the house for a couple of weeks while Mrs. Bates adjusts to everything, and, as well, you’ll have the chance to see a different part of the world.”
Mary looked flustered as she left the room. Sophie felt sorry for her. It seemed as though Lady Theo was making Mary prove her loyalty by agreeing to go to a foreign country. Sophie knew that Mary had never even been as far as Montpelier. “That’s not fair,” Sophie said.
“Fair or not, that’s the way it’s going to be, Sophie,” her papa answered. “She kept silent when she should have spoken up. There are times when you say nothing and there are some secrets worth keeping, but never those which protect bullies.”
“You should have told us, Sophie,” Lady Theo said. “You should have trusted us to take care of it. You must promise to tell us if this happens again.”
But Sophie knew that was