And right on cue, her father’s nostrils flared. At least her father was predictable in his anger towards her. “I demand that you show me respect in my own home.”
“Respect is earned, Father,” Enid said, holding his gaze. She was growing tired of being treated less than in her own home. If her father wanted her to leave, then so be it. She had an inheritance, and she could fend for herself.
“If you are unhappy here, you are more than welcome to leave,” her father responded, gesturing towards the door.
It had become a battle of wills, Enid realized, and she didn’t want to give him the victory. It was on the tip of her tongue to announce that she was leaving but then she thought of Marigold. Her daughter was happy here. Could she really take her away from her grandmother?
As she mulled over her thoughts, her mother’s voice came from the top of the stairs. “George,” she said, a warning in her voice. “I do hope you are not trying to run Enid out of our home.”
Her father had the decency to look ashamed. “I am not,” he replied. “We were just having a conversation and I’m afraid it got rather heated.”
“It would be best if you continued this conversation in the privacy of the drawing room,” her mother suggested as she descended the stairs.
“There is no need,” her father grumbled. “I need to depart for the House of Lords.”
Coming to a stop in front of her husband, her mother asked, “Will you be home for supper?”
Her father’s face softened as he leaned in to kiss his wife’s cheek. “I shall make every effort to do so.”
“I will ask Mrs. Booth to prepare the pudding that you so enjoy,” his mother said.
“Thank you,” her father responded as he stepped back. The disdain came back to his eyes as he met Enid’s gaze. “You will remain here for the time being.”
Rather than fighting with him, she nodded. “I have no place that I need to be anyways.”
Her father headed towards the main door and Osborne stepped out of an adjacent room. He opened the door and stood to the side as her father walked through.
Once the door was closed, her mother gave her a chiding look. “I do wish you wouldn’t provoke your father, dear. You know how he gets.”
“I do, and I am tired of tiptoeing around him,” Enid said. “He will only ever see me as the irresponsible girl that eloped. I am not that girl anymore.”
“I know, but these things take time.”
“I fear that Father is incapable of change, at least when it comes to me.”
Her mother stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on her sleeve. “Don’t give up hope. He will come around; I am sure of it.”
“You are far too optimistic, Mother.”
She smiled. “Without hope, what do you have?”
A knock came at the door, breaking up their conversation.
Osborne went to open the door and asked, “May I help you?”
Enid turned her head and saw Mr. Moore in the doorway as he extended Osborne a calling card. “Mr. Moore,” she greeted as she approached the door. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“I was hoping for a moment of your time, my lady,” Mr. Moore said.
“Of course,” she responded. “Do come in.”
Osborne opened the door wide and Mr. Moore stepped into the entry hall. He bowed when his eyes landed on her mother. “Lady Everton,” he murmured.
Her mother tipped her head in acknowledgement. “Mr. Moore, it is a pleasure to see you again,” she said. “How is your mother?”
“She is well, and I have no doubt she would have sent her regards had she known I was coming here today,” Mr. Moore replied.
“Lady Harrogate is a kind woman,” her mother said.
