‘You had an education and threw it away.’
‘—but not one where my confidence is whittled away!’ shouted Evelyn, upset.
‘Miss Brown was lax in her duties,’ said her mother, coming towards her.
She is coming to comfort me, thought Evelyn, as her eyes began to fill with tears.
‘No, Mother. Miss Brown was kind and good,’ she tried to reassure her. ‘She was like a mother to me.’
Her mother’s stinging slap violently jerked Evelyn’s head to the right and shocked her into silence. Slowly, hesitantly, Evelyn touched her burning cheek with her hand and looked at her mother in disbelief. Wild eyes stared back at her.
‘I am your mother.I am!’ her mother shouted at her.
Evelyn, who had never been struck by her parents before, felt its pain more deeply than any punishment Mr Burrows had meted out.
Confused, she looked to her father for support, but he refused to look at her. It was as if she had become invisible once more. Nothing she had said had made a difference. It was as if she had not spoken at all. She would not have it. Not again. The anger she had tried her very best to control suddenly broke forth like a raging bull. It overwhelmed her, tearing her common sense to shreds and deluding her to the good it could do. She reached for another glass and smashed it on the floor.
This time the rebellious act, and the sound of it smashing, sent a thrill through her and brightened her eyes. She reached for another, insensible to her parents’ retreat as they protected their faces from the showering glass. She turned to the breakfast table. Cutlery, plates and teacups were rapidly sliding in a tangle of white linen before Evelyn realised what she had done, but she did not care.
She had swept the crowded sideboard clear of ornaments and trinkets, and was in the midst of pulling books from the shelves, when the door opened. In her frenzy, she did not hear anyone enter or feel their hands upon her until it was too late.
Suddenly, the room was tilting. The solid ground beneath her feet fell away and she was falling backwards, backwards,into a bed of hands. Angry faces looked down upon her. She was being carried away, but to where? Frightened, she began to struggle, jerking and flaying like a floundering, landed fish. The hands tightened, pinching her tender flesh and finally bringing her back to her senses.
Evelyn realised that her dress was about her waist, exposing her drawers to the servants who carried her. She tried to pull it down, twisting and turning in acute embarrassment, but their grip only tightened further.
They think I am violent. They think I am mad!
Evelyn tried to explain her actions as they carried her unceremoniously from the room, but as she saw the destruction around her she knew, with a sinking heart, her efforts would be futile.
Chapter Eleven
Sir Robert and Lady Pendragon sat stiffly, side by side, waiting for the closed door of their drawing room to open. Whilst Sir Robert rapidly tapped his fingers on the walnut wood arm of their leather sofa, his wife kneaded her handkerchief into her lap with the vigour of a nervous woman.
‘He can’t be much longer,’ Sir Robert muttered to himself. ‘What is taking him so long?’
He did not expect an answer. They had both witnessed their daughter’s odd behaviour, the whole damn house had witnessed it, and such a serious decline would take time to assess. Even so, his wife did reply, in her clipped, uptight tone that offered no reassurance.
‘He is very thorough. Whatever he prescribes, we must follow it to the letter.’
‘Is that a jibe at me?’
‘It wasyouwho declined his tonic for Nicholas,’ snapped his wife.
Sir Robert stood abruptly and walked to the window. ‘Nicholas was dying. We knew that long before his relapse.’
‘He may have lived longer.’
Sir Robert turned on his wife. ‘Don’t you dare lay his death at my door! He had the best treatment money could buy. You are not the only one who grieves! He was my son too! At least I can say I have never raised a hand to my children.’
His retort struck his wife like the slap she had given. ‘I am her mother! I love Evelyn!’
‘And slapping our daughter’s face proved that?’
Silence fell heavy upon the room and shone a light on the void between them. Lady Pendragon’s appetite to fight faded as suddenly as it began. She stood and stiffly turned to face him.
‘I have lost one child, Robert, and I felt like I was losing another. I slapped Evelyn because I was jealous of Miss Brown. It was shameful and wrong. We should not be baiting one another. Our daughter is ill and needs our help.’
Sir Robert’s shoulders began to shudder. His wife came to his side to see what was ailing him. She lifted his bowed head to find his cheeks wet with tears. She had never seen him cry before because he never had. Embarrassed, he tried to turn away, but she would not let him.
