"Well, he does now."
The butler looked down at Noni as if he were a stray animal. "His lordship's not in."
"They never are,” Ellen muttered. She was tired, dusty, and hungry and had no patience for it. If the butler believed he had to be patronising, then she would show him just how patronising a schoolmistress could be, which would make even the most hardened soldier tremble in his boots. All one had to do was pretend they were one of her disobedient pupils. It worked every time.
"What is your name, pray?"
"Jenkins."
"Jenkins. I shall say this only once, so listen closely. Given these circumstances, we can do one of two things. One: leave the poor child out here in the cold rain, which will, no doubt, provoke him to throw a tantrum in the middle of the street causing him to attract all sorts of unwanted attention, not to mention the possibility of contracting a severe chill which might lead to his death, for which you will be held solely responsible. Or Two: invite us in and offer us some tea in the drawing room while we await his lordship's return." Noni would never throw a tantrum; he was too good a child. But situations like this called for desperate lies.
A look of uncertainty crossed the butler's face before it was replaced by a frown. He glanced at the child, as if pondering on Ellen's ominous ramifications, and decided with a visible shudder that it was better to let them in before the child, indeed, dissolved into a tantrum.
"You may await his lordship in the drawing room." The sour face with which he'd uttered the words made him look as if he'd licked a lemon.
"Good decision. That wasn't so difficult, now, was it?" Nose in the air, Ellen led Noni past him, leaving the trunk outside for the butler to carry in.
There was no denying it, this townhouse was all the crack. The entrance alone was a bright, airy place, with white marble floors, white panelled walls, arched porticoes above the doors, and mirrors and gilded tables along the sides. There was even a fireplace, and at the end of the hall, an elegant staircase wound its way up to the second floor.
Ellen had to admit that for a hallway, whose mundane purpose was to connect rooms, it looked like a slice of a lavish ballroom, topped with cream and frosting. The drawing room was the first room on the right with a double door, and Ellen almost sighed when she saw it. It was a large room in sage green, with full-height sash windows that looked out onto the verdant trees in the park. A white marble fireplace stood in the centre, above which was a massive painting of a landscape. Delicately upholstered, gilded armchairs in striped gold and green satin matched the wallpaper. The plasterwork on the ceiling was tasteful and classical. Mahogany tables, chests of drawers, and chairs completed the room.
Flowers sprouted from vases in every corner. The mantelpiece was decorated with pink peonies and ferns, and a matching arrangement was placed in a Greek vase on a side table.
"My goodness. How pretty." The words escaped Ellen.
Noni seemed to like the room too, for he let go of her skirt and bounced on the sofa.
Ellen's mood improved as she studied the paintings on the wall. Was that a Turner? The one on the other side of the room was definitely a Tiverton, for she recognised the painting by her former colleague's husband at once. Whoever lived here had exquisite taste in art and decor, and that was a good sign.
She sat down next to Noni on the sofa to await his lordship's arrival.
The butler had brought in a tray of tea and a plate with tiny, triangular cucumber sandwiches. Noni devoured the entire plate on his own, and Ellen requested the butler to bring more. After he had done so with a grudging, frosty demeanour, Ellen sat back contentedly.
The clock ticked on the mantelpiece, and the sun streamed through the windows. The fire crackled in the fireplace and Noni's head fell onto her shoulder. She blinked sleepily, nodded, opened her eyes again and dropped into a sleep of exhaustion.
Ellen dreamed about the seminary and how she'd overslept and was late for class. She climbed and climbed the stairs, which suddenly changed from the school's simple oak staircase to the white elegance of the Tewkbury townhouse. Would she never arrive? She was late and lost. She kept climbing the never-ending stairs. Miss Hilversham would be so disappointed in her. She needed her. She was counting on her. She expected her to take over the school one day. How could she tell her she did not want to? The thought startled Ellen, even in her dreams.What do you mean, you don't want to stay at the school?It was Miss Hilversham's voice, but it was also her own thoughts that echoed.
"I don't want to stay," Ellen whimpered.
"In that case, shall I call a hackney?" A voice said far away.
She opened her eyes.
This wasn't the seminary.
It was a beautiful room in green with pink peonies everywhere. Everything came rushing back to her.
The child beside her was gone.
She shot up from the sofa and looked around wildly. "Noni!"
Behind the other end of the sofa, she saw a bundle of black curls. The boy was hiding behind it.
"Oh, Noni, come here. I'm sorry I fell asleep. Everything will be ... " Her eyes fell on the door.
Her jaw dropped.
For the vision that stood there was beyond anything she'd ever seen in her entire life.
