Chapter 5
The next morning, Ellie jerked the steel tip of her dip pen out of her mouth for what was surely the hundredth time. She might not damage the dip pen’s metal exterior, but she was flirting with cracked teeth or a splatter-ink moustache.
She’d woken up with a hunger like never before, and when an entire tray of kippers had failed to dampen the cravings, she’d developed a disturbing oral fixation on anything and everything she could put in her mouth. The sudden desire to chew on household miscellany was just as strong as the unladylike stomach rumblings that propelled her back into the kitchen a mere hour after she broke her fast.
Luckily, her mother’s predilection for staying abed until after noontime meant Ellie was unlikely to be discovered face-first in the larder.
“Toast? No...” Ellie murmured to herself. “Clotted cream? No... Boiled vegetables? Definitely not... Hrrgmmph?”
She jerked to a stop as she realized she now had an entire carrot protruding from her mouth. She removed the vegetable and glared at the many tooth marks now marring its surface. She had never liked carrots, and here she was gnawing at one as if compelled to do so. What she really wanted was meat. Surely there must be—aha! An entire slab of... Well, Ellie had never been in a kitchen during the actual cooking process, so she wasn’t exactly certain what it was she was staring at, but it was meat, and therefore, food.
Ellie was thrilled with her find and dying to partake, but how on earth was she to prepare it? Blast. Either she would have to suffer her hunger pangs until lunchtime, or she would be forced to make do with what she had. Could she eat it, just like this? Biting at her lower lip, Ellie gave in to temptation and reached for the platter.
“Elspeth!”
“Aaagh!”
Ellie whirled about, simultaneously trying to hide the heavy platter behind her back whilst preventing its gravitational slide toward the stone floor. She failed on both counts. Silver clanged to the floor. Pink droplets sprayed the hem of her butter-yellow morning dress. The ill-used carrot rolled to a stop when it collided with the toe of her mother’s slipper.
“Er... good morning, Mama.” Ellie did her best at a sunny, innocent smile and hoped she didn’t have bits of carrot—or ink stains—upon her teeth. “Did you sleep well?”
Her mother closed her eyes and scrunched up her face as if wishing she did not have a daughter who skulked about the pantry at half eleven, gnawing on root vegetables and dropping trays of raw meat. This was, of course, a wish destined to remain ungranted, but Ellie sank to her knees anyway and did her best to gather up what had most likely been meant for tonight’s supper. Her mother unscrunched her porcelain face and opened her long-suffering blue eyes.
“Elspeth, darling,” Mama began in her softest voice. The one Ellie dreaded above all others.
Being called “Elspeth darling” was never a good sign, nor was the sight of her mother awake before noon. All indications suggested Ellie should flee, and flee now. If she weren’t already on her knees grappling for the fallen carrot, she would have obeyed the impulse.
“What the devil are you about, girl?” Mama demanded in much put-out tones.
“I was hungry,” Ellie murmured without looking up. “Just looking for a light repast.”
Mama’s incredulity was palpable. “A light repast of whole carrots and a pound of venison?”
“You’re awake hours before schedule,” Ellie interjected, hoping some quick misdirection would save her from having to invent an explanation. “What could have possibly dared to disturb your slumber?”
“The howling of the wind.” Mama pulled her shawl tighter and glared over her shoulder at the frost-specked windows. With luck, she had forgotten about the carrot.
Ellie had hoped to be a breadwinner, not exacerbate their poverty. Having gathered the foodstuffs, she rose to her feet and returned the tray to the larder. The majority of the venison could be salvaged.
She shook out her skirts, rolled back her shoulders, and met her mother’s gaze bravely. A wasted effort, of course. Even if Ellie had been decked in finery fit for a queen, she would still be a pale shadow of her mother.
Mama awoke from slumber with golden ringlets, big blue eyes, and a perfect Cupid’s bow smile. Ellie awoke from slumber with a lopsided mane of red-blond tangles, bloodshot eyes, and a crick in her shoulder from falling asleep curled up on the library sofa.
And an inexplicable passion for raw vegetables.
“I’ve been thinking...” Mama said. Another bad omen. Mama tended to think things like you would look lovely in orange damask, or why don’t you read the original text in ancient Latin, or if you don’t stop complaining about your hair, I’ll cut it off and have done.
Ellie braced herself. “Say your piece.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Mama repeated more firmly but without meeting Ellie’s eyes, “that it’s time.”
“No.” Ellie’s heart began to gallop. The pantry was suddenly too small to comfortably breathe. “Mother, no. Please.”
“Elspeth, you knew when we moved here it would not last forever.” Mama’s voice was calm, steady, and vexingly reasonable. “This cannot be a shock.”
“But why now?” Ellie hated her own powerlessness, despised her inability to keep the panic out of her voice every time she found herself participating in these dreaded conversations. “I truly like it here.”
Her mother sighed. “You always do. And we cannot stay.”
