Alice had a point. Father had decided that breakfast was to be a family affair. Everyone was required to attend, including Malcolm and Rosamond, who only recently got married. The meal was pleasant enough, but the conversation was usually stifled by her cantankerous father.
Enid rose and walked over to the wardrobe. She opened the door and started thumbing through her pale-colored gowns. These were gowns for a debutante, not a widow. Perhaps she would use some of the inheritance she received from her great-aunt to commission new gowns.
Society dictated that she should mourn her husband by wearing black for a whole year, but she refused to do so. Her whole marriage had been a lie, and she didn’t want to spend one more day pretending to be someone she wasn’t.
She pulled out a blue gown and held it up. “This will do for today,” she said before handing it off to Alice.
“Yes, my lady,” Alice responded.
Enid walked over to the dressing table and picked up a brush. After she ran it through her brown tresses, she placed it down and went to twist her hair back into a tight chignon at the base of her neck.
Alice walked over and picked up the pins off the dressing table. As she handed them to Enid to secure the chignon in place, she said, “I wish you would let me style your hair.”
“There is no need since I am perfectly capable of doing it on my own,” Enid responded.
“Yes, but you are a lady.”
Enid felt a need to correct her and rushed to say, “We both know that I am ruined.” It was important for her that everyone knew she didn’t have the grand illusions that things would go back to the way they were before she had eloped. She was different now, and she wasn’t entirely sure it was for the better.
The only saving grace for her was that she had Marigold. She adored her one-year-old daughter and that was the only reason she never stopped fighting.
As Alice assisted her in dressing, she said, “You are still the daughter of an earl.”
“Who disowned me.”
“Yes, but he let you return home.”
“Reluctantly,” Enid reminded her.
Alice gave her a knowing look. “He could have said no, but he didn’t.”
“That was only because my brother threatened to take my mother and me and retire to our country estate,” Enid said. “I daresay it was more about my mother leaving than me.”
“You do have his grandchild.”
Enid blew out a puff of air. “Yes, I do. But I don’t think my father has visited Marigold once since we moved in a month ago.”
“These things take time,” Alice encouraged.
“I doubt it,” Enid responded. She didn’t want to be a naysayer, but she was trying to be realistic. Her father no more wanted her here than he wanted a rock in his boot. It meant little to him that Marigold was here.
Alice fastened the last button on her gown and took a step back. “I am of the mind that Lord Everton will come around.”
“I do appreciate your optimism but I fear that it is in vain.”
“We shall see,” Alice responded, “but you must hurry if you want to stop by the nursery.”
Enid didn’t need to be told again. She departed from her bedchamber and walked down the corridor towards the nursery. She was almost there when the door opened and her mother slipped out. When she saw Enid, her mother put her finger up to her lips, indicating she should remain silent.
Her mother waved her forward as she stepped away from the door. “Marigold just went down for a nap,” she informed her in a hushed voice.
“At this hour?”
“Yes, Marie said that she woke early when a bird hit the window,” her mother replied.
Enid gave her mother a baffled look. “A bird hit the window?”
“Apparently so, and it woke Marigold up.”
