Sophie's Rebellion. Beverley Boissery
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“And what would have happened to me if I did?” Mrs. Bates answered bitterly. “For the past three years, it’s been Mr. Bert and Mr. Bart who have kept everything going while you were in England making friends with your family’s enemies. They kept the place going, not you. It’s their children who came for cookies every day, not Miss Sophie. Don’t you think it’s natural for them to feel that she’s a stranger taking over their place?” She looked defiantly at Benjamin’s stony face and modified her aggressiveness, a little — a very little. “Her ladyship’s right though about the children. They should not have done what they did. But you must understand, Mr. Mallory: to them, she’s an outsider.”
“Mrs. Bates, bullies don’t deserve your excuses or your protection. Particularly that of your silence,” Benjamin said. “Furthermore, the decisions I make about the way I serve my country are mine and should be respected. If you want to leave my service, I’ll write you a reference. You’ve been a good housekeeper and served the family well until recently. But if you decide to stay, you must understand that I and mine come first. My decisions are not to be gossiped about. My activities are not to be tattled to my sons, as I’m sure you’ve been doing. My daughter’s welfare will come first, before my grandchildren’s. Finally, my dear Theodosia will have complete and total charge of the household. I’ll give you a week to think it over. Then, you must choose. Understood?”
The chastened housekeeper left the room without another word, and Mary turned to go with her. But Lady Theo stopped her. “Just a moment, Mary,” she began. “Mr. Mallory and I will be taking Miss Sophie with us when we leave for Beauharnois the day after tomorrow. Pack a trunk for her that does not include the horrible brown dresses she’s been wearing since I arrived. You must know that brown is one of the worst colours for her. Brown with her black hair and blue eyes? Unthinkable.”
Mary dropped a curtsey. “Begging your pardon, your ladyship. Mrs. Bates says that brown’s the most serviceable colour for children. All the Mallory children wear it, including Miss Sophie.”
“Doesn’t she have dresses in any other colour?”
“Just for church.”
“Then pack those. If you can find someone who can make her some new dresses by the time we leave, do so. Understood?”
Mary nodded, and Lady Theo continued. “Now Mary, you heard what Mr. Mallory said to Mrs. Bates. I’ll give you the same choice. I believe that you have Miss Sophie’s interests at heart. If you want to work for us, you’ll have to always put Miss Sophie’s interests first. That also means you’ll have to agree to go with us to Beauharnois as Miss Sophie’s maid. You might like to be out of the house for a couple of weeks while Mrs. Bates adjusts to everything, and, as well, you’ll have the chance to see a different part of the world.”
Mary looked flustered as she left the room. Sophie felt sorry for her. It seemed as though Lady Theo was making Mary prove her loyalty by agreeing to go to a foreign country. Sophie knew that Mary had never even been as far as Montpelier. “That’s not fair,” Sophie said.
“Fair or not, that’s the way it’s going to be, Sophie,” her papa answered. “She kept silent when she should have spoken up. There are times when you say nothing and there are some secrets worth keeping, but never those which protect bullies.”
“You should have told us, Sophie,” Lady Theo said. “You should have trusted us to take care of it. You must promise to tell us if this happens again.”
But Sophie knew that was something she couldn’t promise. Unless Bert and Bart made it a big issue, their children would continue to torment her and would only intensify their bullying if she told on them. She sighed even as she threw her arms around her papa and then Lady Theo. “Thank you for deciding I could go to Mr. Ellice’s. I’ve never been to a Welcome to Winter party. I’ve never heard of one before.”
“And I doubt that you will again,” Lady Theo said, smiling and hugging her back. “It’s distinctly a Janie Ellice idea. But it will be fun. Better yet, it will give this situation a chance to settle down. You’ll see.”
The next day passed in a blur of activity. Lady Theo produced a bolt of a soft, red cloth made from the finest merino wool. Sophie was taken to the dressmaker in the village and measured, pinned, and measured and pinned for hours. Just when it seemed that all efforts were in vain and she would have to leave for the Ellices with her horrible brown clothes, a message arrived from her papa saying that their departure had been delayed. Some papers that he was waiting for had not arrived and he couldn’t leave until they did. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The dressmaker promised immediate delivery of the red dress and Lady Theo ordered another two of different colours.
She could have ordered eleven, or even twenty, because a second messenger soon brought news that Mr. Mallory was further delayed and that he’d stay in Montpelier until he finished his business there. The Ellices, according to the messenger, had already been told that although Mr. Mallory would arrive on November 9, the Thursday before the party, Lady Theo and Sophie would travel to Beauharnois as originally scheduled.
Lady Theo hemmed and hawed at the news. On the one hand, she saw the wisdom in getting Sophie away from Malloryville as quickly as possible. On the other, she was loath to travel with only the grooms and coachman for protection. Sophie’s woebegone face finally decided things, and the following day the Mallory coach set off for Jane Ellice’s Welcome to Winter party.
CHAPTER FIVE
To Sophie’s astonishment, Mary chose to go with them. Even though she and Eloise, Lady Theo’s maid, sat with their backs to the horses, Sophie noticed that her eyes got bigger and rounder the further they travelled northward. And she had a good idea that her own looked the same.
Sophie had no idea what she expected Lower Canada to be like. She’d been so preoccupied with getting away from Malloryville that she simply hadn’t thought much about Beauharnois. Or that it would be foreign. When she looked north from the Mount Donne lookout, she knew that at some point Vermont stopped and Lower Canada began, but there was no red line saying the United States here, Lower Canada there. Nor did it look like it would take a trip of six hours to go from Malloryville to Beauharnois, on the southern shore of the mighty St. Lawrence River.
As the coach jolted its interminable way north, everything seemed foreign, and Sophie hadn’t expected that. England, another foreign country, had simply seemed different. Everything there was bigger, of course. She had seen mansions in London that were double the size of anything in Boston, and the city had an enormous number of very poor people as well. And maybe, she decided, that summed up England. More of everything. More magnificence, more filth. A greater emphasis on manners, less concern for actual people.
Lower Canada, however, was simply foreign. Most of the people spoke a French that she didn’t begin to understand, a French that puzzled Lady Theo and Eloise at times. Even the houses were different from those in Vermont. Their roofs didn’t slope straight down as normal ones did. They had a kind of curl to their eaves, as though the builders tried to copy the branches of trees. The farmers’ fields were different as well. Instead of being square, they were long and very narrow. Sophie couldn’t imagine how any of the new harvesting machines she’d seen in England would ever work in Lower Canada. There wouldn’t