and undaunted by her employer’s indignation, Alice faced her squarely. ‘I don’t question your authority, ma’am. But from what I’ve seen of Flora she is a little girl who needs love and affection.’
‘Flora has the best of everything. My husband spoils her and she wants for nothing.’
Alice could see that this was going nowhere. Lydia Dearborn did not seem to have any maternal feelings towards her adopted daughter, but arguing was not going to help. ‘I can see that she is a lucky little girl to have come into such a comfortable home, but I was an only child and it’s a lonely path to tread. Might I suggest that she be allowed a little more freedom? She is intelligent and talented, and if she were allowed out under my supervision I think I could help her.’
‘I haven’t decided yet whether or not to sack you, Radcliffe. If you are a bad influence on Flora then you must leave.’
Alice said nothing. She clasped her hands behind her back, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl standing in front of an irate headmistress, but there was little she could do other than wait for Mrs Dearborn to decide her fate. She could imagine Aunt Jane’s smug expression if she were dismissed. It would give her added encouragement to see marriage as the only solution, but the thought of marrying Horace made Alice feel physically sick.
Lydia relaxed her hands with a sigh. ‘I suppose I will have to allow you stay on for the time being, Radcliffe. Apart from upsetting Flora even further, it would be difficult to find a replacement at such short notice, and at this time of year.’
‘I’ll do my best to look after her, Mrs Dearborn.’
‘You will indeed. There will be no more trips out unless you have my permission.’
‘I understand.’
‘You may go, but I expect you to work tomorrow, even though it’s Christmas Day. I have guests coming and I don’t want Flora to ruin my party.’
Alice nodded, biting back the sharp words that rose to her lips. This woman, she decided, was selfish to the core and she disliked her intensely.
‘You may go.’ Lydia dismissed her with a wave of her hand. ‘Wait. On second thoughts you can make yourself useful. The wretched tree needs decorating and the servants are all fully occupied with preparations for tomorrow. I’m going out to luncheon and will be gone all afternoon, so you and my daughter may hang the baubles and tinsel. It will keep Flora occupied.’
Flora knew exactly where the decorations were stored. She led Alice to an attic room at the far end of the corridor where the servants slept. Cabin trunks and other items of luggage were piled from floor to sloping ceiling. Oddments of furniture, oil lamps and a couple of crinoline cages were littered about the room, together with tea chests spilling over with unwanted items.
With a cry of delight Flora pounced on a wooden box. ‘There it is. I knew it was here.’ She lifted the lid and pulled out a strand of tinsel, holding it so that the silver threads danced in rays of sunlight that filtered through the grime on the small windowpanes. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’
‘Yes, it’s lovely.’ Alice glanced anxiously at the cobwebs that festooned the rafters, but to her relief there was no evidence of the creatures that had made them. She knew that for a grown woman to be afraid of spiders was irrational, but like Flora she had been at the mercy of a nanny who was addicted to drink and laudanum. The gruesome tales of giant arachnids that came in the night to punish naughty children had been told to subdue and scare her. The nightmares had ceased, but the fear remained. She closed the lid. ‘Let’s take them downstairs to the drawing room, Flora.’
‘And I want to put the star on top of the tree.’
‘I want doesn’t get,’ Alice said automatically, and for a moment she thought she was about to witness another tantrum, but Flora’s angry look melted into a smile.
‘May I put the star on top of the tree, please, Alice?’
‘Of course you may.’ Alice picked up the box. ‘You see how easy it is to get along with people when you speak to them nicely?’
‘I think I’m beginning to.’ Flora held out her hand. ‘Let me help you.’
Together they transported the heavy box to the drawing room and set about decorating the tree, stopping briefly at midday when Nettie summoned them to the morning room where, as a special treat, luncheon had been laid on a table in the window.
‘I feel like a grown-up,’ Flora said happily. ‘I’m not usually allowed to have my meals anywhere but in the nursery.’
‘We’re very busy below stairs, Miss Flora.’ Nettie placed a jug of gravy on the table next to the mutton pie with a glistening golden crust and a tempting aroma. ‘Mrs Upton said it would be easier if you and Miss Radcliffe ate here.’
Alice took her seat at table opposite Flora. ‘It looks and smells delicious, Nettie. Thank you.’
‘There’s boiled cabbage to come, miss. I’ll fetch it now.’
‘Ugh,’ Flora said, pulling a face. ‘I hate cabbage.’
‘It’s good for you.’ Alice cut into the pie. ‘But perhaps on this occasion we’ll just have the pie, Nettie. Miss Flora will forgo dessert and have an apple instead.’
Flora’s eyes opened wide and her bottom lip trembled. ‘No, it’s all right. I’ll eat my cabbage, but only if I can have pudding. What is it, Nettie?’
‘Jam roly-poly, miss.’
‘And custard?’
‘Of course, miss. Cook wouldn’t serve pudding without custard.’ Nettie bobbed a curtsey and left the room, returning minutes later with a dish of boiled cabbage. Flora wrinkled her nose, but ate hers without further complaint. Alice smiled to herself and said nothing.
The pudding, as usual, was delicious and very filling. Flora ate all hers, scraping the dish with her spoon to get the last drop of custard, which made Alice laugh. ‘I’m sure there’s plenty more in the kitchen, if you’re still hungry.’
Flora licked her lips. ‘No, that would be greedy, and I’m full.’ She sighed. ‘But I would like to go outside and play snowballs. The sun’s shining on the snow and it looks so pretty.’
Alice had also eaten her fill, mindful of the austerity she would face that evening, and she sympathised with Flora, but she did not dare go against Mrs Dearborn’s wishes. She rose from the table. ‘I think we’d better finish the tree, don’t you? I’m sure it will please your mama to see it looking so lovely.’
Alice had to lift Flora up in an attempt to place the star on the topmost branch of the tree, but it was still out of reach and Flora was heavier than she looked. They tried again and toppled over, ending up in a giggling heap on the floor with a tangle of booted feet and frilled petticoats. Alice was struggling to rise when the door opened and Rory Dearborn strolled into the room. He came to a halt, staring at them in surprise, and a slow smile curved his lips.
‘Well now, what happened? Has there been an earthquake?’
Flora leaped up and ran to give him a hug. ‘You’ve come just in time, Uncle Rory. Alice was trying to lift me high enough to put the star on the tree.’
