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Mrs. Baddeley chimed in. “Jean, go get a basket from the kitchen. One of my wicker shopping baskets, and bring it here, along with a length of some wax paper. We can wrap up some of those cookies for them as well.”

“Oh, this is so exciting,” I said to Anita. I felt like we were on an adventure as we headed upstairs with our basket of chocolates and cookies to give to the singing children. We all stood there assembled, ready to surprise them. “Okay, Jackson, open the door,” I said, feeling like I might burst from the pure joy of the evening. It was the happiest I had felt since Papa died.

Jackson opened the door, but it wasn’t children who were waiting.

It was Mama.

“Jackson! What is the meaning of this?” My mother was livid as she took in the sight of us with our lopsided paper hats, flushed faces, and joyous expressions. Then her eyes landed on me. I had never seen her so angry.

“Mama! We weren’t expecting you!”?I said. Part of me was so happy to see her after all this time. Part of me, too, felt a sense of foreboding form in the pit of my stomach.

“Clearly! Look at yourselves! My goodness, Cruella, you’re a mess! What in heavens is going on? Explain yourself!”

“When we heard the bell upstairs we thought it was caroling children at the door,” I said, my shoulders falling at her anger and disapproval. “We thought it would be festive to bring them some sweets.”

“I don’t understand, Cruella! What were you doing downstairs?” She took in the flour all over my dress. The flour I hadn’t even cared about just minutes before. My mama was so angry at me; I couldn’t bring myself to tell her we had been down with the servants celebrating Christmas. “Cruella, answer me! Whose idea was this?”

Anita was the one who spoke up. “It was my idea, Lady De Vil,” she said in her soft, sweet voice. Anita was always braver than I gave her credit for.

You have to watch out for the quiet ones. Take some advice from me. The quiet, observant girls are the deadliest.

My mother just looked at Anita as if she didn’t know her, as if she hadn’t spoken, and directed her words at Jackson. “Jackson, send the staff downstairs.” I wanted to say I hadn’t had the chance to give the staff their gifts yet. I wanted to say that it was my idea. But I couldn’t make the words come out. It turned out I wasn’t as brave as Anita. “Cruella, I’d like to speak with you in the morning room. Anita, if you would please excuse us?” Anita looked over her shoulder at me as she went up the stairs. I could tell she felt bad, and she was worried for me. I flashed her a reassuring smile as I made my way into the morning room with my mama. But we both knew my smile was fake.

Mama was seething. “Clearly this girl is a horrible influence on you. Six months away, and I come home to see you looking like this? Look at the state of you. What are you wearing, Cruella? Why are you dressed like a common house girl? You aren’t even wearing the earrings your father gave you!”

It was true. I hadn’t dressed up. I was wearing one of my plainer dresses, something I would usually wear on outings in the park or woods. “Walking clothes,” my mother called them. I hadn’t wanted to dress up and be flashy. I’d wanted to fit in downstairs. And now I felt as if I didn’t belong in the morning room with my mama. My face felt warm, and I wondered if it was red.

“This is too much, Cruella. Too much. I sent you to that school to become a lady, not a common housemaid. Clearly Anita has been a bad influence on you! I should never have arranged for her to join you,” she said, pouring herself a glass of sherry and sitting on the leather couch in her usual spot.

“That’s not true, Mother!”

“Not true? Since when do you dress like this on Christmas Eve? I gave Mrs. Web explicit instructions on how this evening should go, and you defied my wishes. I don’t even know who you are.” Mrs. Web. Of course. She had tipped my mother off.

“She told you?”

“Of course she told me. She’s my head housekeeper. She is my eyes and ears when I am away. You are not to act th

e lady of the house with her, do you understand? She enforces my will when I’m not here to do it myself.”

“She’s a horrible woman, Mother. She wanted the servants to give up their holiday party. I couldn’t believe those were your wishes. What’s the harm in having a little party for the servants? You and Papa told me about the servants’ balls Grandmama used to have in the old days. What’s the difference between that and what we did tonight?”

“All the difference in the world! That was a grand estate, Cruella, a world of its own. With old traditions that went back too many generations to count. We live in the city. Dining in the kitchen with servants just isn’t done. What if the other ladies hear about this? What if Anita tells her guardian’s daughters? This kind of news travels through society. We’d be a laughingstock.”

She didn’t give me a moment to reply or try to defend myself. “I have made a decision, Cruella. I don’t want you going back to that school. I think it’s time for you to come out into society. We need to find you a husband at once! Someone who will take you in hand and curb this attitude of yours.”

I couldn’t believe she was saying this. “What attitude?” I asked.

“You don’t think I hear what you have been up to at school? Your threats to the headmistress and your constant snotty attitude, haughtiness with the other students in your avid devotion and defense of Anita? Alienating you from all the proper young women I sent you there to meet. This has to stop! I don’t want you seeing that girl anymore, do you understand?”

And for the first time ever, I stood up to my mother.

“Anita is my best friend!”

“She is not your friend! She is little better than a servant. And I will not have her influencing you in this way!”

“The party was my idea, Mother, not Anita’s.”

But my mother didn’t believe me.

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