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"I'm right here," Wendy said, coming around the door jamb. "I was here waitin'."
"You mean you were spying on us," Gisselle accused. "Listening in."
"No I wasn't." Wendy looked at me, horrified. "I don't spy on you."
"Of course she doesn't spy on us, Gisselle."
"Of course she does, you mean. She likes listening in and living a romantic life through us," Gisselle teased. "It's that and your romance
magazines, isn't it, Wendy? Or are you meeting Eric Daniels behind the cabana every night?"
Wendy nearly burst with embarrassment. Her mouth dropped and she shook her head.
"Maybe we are better off going to a private school and not being watched and spied upon all the time," Gisselle said, and sighed. "All right, all right," she snapped. "Help me wash and get my hair brushed and don't stand there looking like you were just caught with your panties down."
Wendy gasped. I turned away to hide my laughter and hurried down to tell Daddy all would be fine: Gisselle would be dressed and ready for the trip.
.
Ever since Daphne had tried to have me locked away in the institution and my subsequent escape, life at the House of Dumas had been difficult. Our meals together, whenever we were all available to eat together, were usually very quiet, formal affairs. Daddy no longer joked with Gisselle and me, and if Daphne had anything to say, it was usually abrupt and to the point. Most of the time was spent sympathizing with Gisselle or promising things to her.
Although something of a truce had supposedly been declared between us, Daphne never stopped complaining or looking for things to criticize about me. I think it was her constant badgering of my father that finally convinced him that shipping us off to a private school and getting us out of the house would be the wisest thing to do. Now Daphne behaved as if the idea had been hers and that it was all so wonderful for the family. My guess was she was afraid we would refuse to go at the last minute.
Daddy was alone in the dining room reading the morning paper and sipping his coffee when I arrived. A croissant with butter and some jam was on a small plate beside his cup. He hadn't heard me enter, and for a moment I was able to observe him without his being aware.
Our daddy was a strikingly handsome man. He had the same soft green eyes Gisselle and I had, but his face was leaner, his cheekbones more pronounced. Lately he seemed to have gained a little weight around his waist, but he still had a firm upper body with gracefully sloped shoulders. He was proud of his rich, chestnut-brown hair and still kept a small pompadour, but the gray strands that had invaded at his temples were b
eginning to appear in the back and top as well. Most of the time these days he looked tired or in deeply meditative thought. He spent less time outdoors, hardly ever went fishing or hunting, and consequently had lost the dark tan he used to always have.
"Good morning, Daddy," I said, and took my seat. He lowered his paper quickly and smiled, but I could see from the hesitation in his eyes that there had been some trouble between him and Daphne already this morning.
"Good morning. Excited?"
"And frightened," I admitted.
"Don't be. The last thing I want to do is send you someplace where you won't be happy. Believe me."
"I do," I said. Edgar appeared in the doorway with a silver tray carrying my orange juice.
"I won't have anymore than coffee and a croissant either this morning, Edgar."
"Nina won't like that, mademoiselle," he warned. His dark eyes looked darker this morning, his face glum. My gaze followed him out of the dining room and then I turned to Daddy, who smiled.
"Edgar is very fond of you and sorry to see you leaving. Like me, he knows that the brightness and the happy sound of your voice will be dearly missed."
"Perhaps we shouldn't go then. Perhaps this is a mistake," I said softly. "Gisselle is still complaining."
"Gisselle will always be complaining, I'm afraid," he said with a sigh. "No, no, regretful as it is, I think this is the best thing for you. And for Gisselle," he added quickly. "She spends too much time alone, feeling sorry for herself. I'm sure you won't let her do that at Greenwood."
"I'll look after her, Daddy."
He smiled. "I know. She has no idea how lucky she is to have a sister like you," he said, a warm smile around his tired eyes.
"Isn't Daphne coming to breakfast?" I asked.
"No, she's having breakfast in the bedroom this morning," he replied quickly. "Nina's just taken it up."
It didn't surprise me that Daphne would ignore us as much as possible on the day of our departure, but I half had expected to see her gloat about it too. After all, she was getting what she wanted: She was getting rid of me.
