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Cook spluttered.
“I ... I’m not really the best person to ask about that, Miss Moore. I’ve been working here since you were three years old. Things are bound to have changed since I started here. And even then, I wouldn’t know how to apply to be a companion.”
“But you must know something!”
“I’m afraid I don’t.” Cook looked pained. “I really wish I could help you, Miss Moore, but I can’t. I’m just as shocked and angry as you are that this is happening. I don’t like change, either, and I would rather have you and Lady Dunley here.”
“I’d rather be here as well.” Isabel could feel herself shaking. “I don’t want to go.”
“I know, Miss.”
Isabel could sense her emotions spiralling away from her. Much as she was fond of Cook, and he wouldn’t care either way, she wasn’t about to cry in front of him. Squaring her shoulders, she went to the windowsill and picked up the jar. The dormouse was lying on the rag, looking a little more lively as it sniffed the rag, its whiskers twitching.
“I’m going to put this one with the others,” she said woodenly. “With any luck, I’ll be able to release him into the wild in a day or two.”
“Yes, Miss Moore.” Cook paused. “Do you think you and Lady Dunley will want lunch?”
“Nothing too big, I think, Cook. I have a feeling our appetite will be dampened after that news.”
“Very well, Miss.”
Isabel didn’t respond. She left the kitchen and turned right, heading towards the orangery. The little dormouse needed to be in a warmer environment. Then she was going to take a moment to herself, hidden away from everyone else.
Because she was moments away from completely breaking down, knowing that the life she had always known was going to disappear before her very eyes.
