Pauper Princess

Chapter Eight

Miss Lancing scolded me for not managing my freetime properly when I excused myself to use the water closet- apparently rich people had entire rooms that they devoted to relieving themselves, with what looked like a chair with a hole in it. I was worried I may fall in at some point, but was not all that concerned just then. I did not sit on the open chair- instead I lifted my dress and shoved the fork and spoon into the hem of my underskirt and drawers, tightening the pins and drawstring to make sure they were firmly in place.

It was uncomfortable, but would do for a while. I would keep an eye open for a good hiding spot to shove them into. I was glad I had thought not to grab the knife, though. I had nowhere safe to store it.

When I made it back to the nursery, there were two boys present. One was clearly several years older than me- I would have guessed at about 13, and was dressed similarly to the way Lord Baldwin had been, coat and all. The younger boy looked to be about my age, and had on a more childish tunic. They were standing beside Miss Lancing and Elizabeth, speaking quietly.

The older boy was the first to notice me- he removed his hat and bowed slightly. "Miss."

Slowing my approach, I hesitated and then curtsied. I cast a weary glance towards Miss Lancing, and her approving look let me know that I had gotten the greeting correct.

The younger boy made a slight face, but bowed nonetheless, following the older boy's lead.

"Miss Amelia, this is Master Michael and Master Thomas. The young Masters of the house. Sirs, this is Amelia, your father's adoptive ward." Miss Lancing was quick to make introductions. The formality made me uncomfortable.

Thomas, the older boy, did not seem taken aback at all though. He smiled at me, placing his hat back upon his head. "Goodmorrow, Miss."

I attempted to smile back. "Goodmorrow."

"Goodmorrow, Sir," Elizabeth rushed to correct me. "Or Master Thomas."

Thomas intervened before Miss Lancing could. "Don't be ridiculous. She is practically my sister now. Please, call me Thomas."

I liked Thomas. Even if his sister was testing my last nerve. "You can just call me Amelia, then."

Truly, I wished to introduce myself as 'Meli', which is what John and all the other street-children called me. But these uppercrust families seemed so set on Christian names.

Thomas smiled. "Amelia, it is."

Michael did not speak, but clearly struggled with manners more than his older brother. He would often fidget his hands, and then realize what he was doing and force them into stiff fists at his sides, intentionally straightening his back as he did so.

It was Thomas who requested we all be allowed to go out into the yard. Miss Lancing agreed, telling us to stay in the garden, and looking directly at me to note that the gates were guarded and we needn't worry about anyone coming in.

Or going out.

Elizabeth and Michael began bickering at once- I was not even certain that we were all the way out of ear-shot from Miss Lancing before they started arguing. Thomas fell back, keeping his pace a bit slower so as to speak to me.

"How do you like it here?" His tone was kind enough.

I tried to think of a reply that was both kind and honest. "Your home is very beautiful."

Thomas smiled, looking around at the tapestries and paintings as if just noticing them. "Thank you. Truly, though, it is my father's home. Most of my year is spent at school rather than here. It was a rather nice place to grow up, though."

"Do you miss it very much?" I had never had a home myself, but could see how easy it may be to become attached to such a thing. Especially one with so many luxuries.

Now it was Thomas who looked to be choosing his words very carefully. "I miss Mother at times. Father, too. And I do miss Elizabeth, as well... when Michael is not around to rile her up. But truthfully, I prefer my life at school. It is quite strict, but I like the structure of it, as well as the peers. It is far more freeing to have such a choice in company rather than the few companions that my parents and Governesses chose for me as I was growing up."

We had reached the front door by then, and I felt the heat rise in my cheeks at his words, knowing full well that I was the forced companion in this situation. Elizabeth certainly would never have chosen me.

I would not have chosen her, either.

Realizing what his words meant to me, Thomas hurried to backpedal. "It is different for you, of course. You are a young lady. It is only proper for you to stay in the home, under the protection of the family. Elizabeth has quite a few friends whom make for good company for her. I am sure you will all get on well."

Michael snorted, interrupting his conversation with Elizabeth to stare back at us. "Clara, Elsie, and Cordelia? They are what you think of as good company?"

Elizabeth shoved Michael, and he stumbled, catching himself on the trunk of a tree. "Do not speak of my friends like that!"

Michael shoved Elizabeth back, and Thomas intervened, catching his sister by the arm before she fell to the floor and wedging himself between his feuding siblings. "I shall box both of your ears if you push each other any more."

That would have been a sight- but unfortunately, did not come to be. They seemed to take their older brother's threat seriously, because both stepped away from Thomas. I wondered if that had happened before.

"You meater!" Michael mocked his brother- from a safe distance. "Just because the school lets the older students act all high and mighty does not mean you get to do it at home, as well!"

Thomas stared back at Michael unwaveringly. "Have you forgotten the sting on the cane so quickly, brother?"

Michael rubbed at some phantom pain in his hand. I wondered if he was aware of Miss Lancing's weapon of choice. Deciding to warn him before he misspoke, I announced, "Miss Lancing has a cane. She said so after she beat Elizabeth."

The boys both turned to stare at me. Then Michael burst into laughter, turning to look at his sister. Elizabeth's cheeks were a bright red as Michael got in her face.

"Your governess beat you?" He mocked, laughing just inches away from her. I half expected Thomas to intervene again, but he too had a slight smile on his face. "Stuck-up Lady Elizabeth got a real whipping? Did it hurt? I shall bet that you cried, did you not?"

When Elizabeth offered up no response, Michael turned to me. "Did she?"

I nodded, remembering Elizabeth's pitiful wails after she had gotten into trouble for mocking me over my own punishment.

Michael broke out into a new set of snickers. Elizabeth humphed and stalked away angrily, walking to the opposite side of a hedge where we could not see her.

"Can you believe it, Thomas?" Michael asked, disbelieving through his grin. He still spoke loudly- unnaturally loudly. He seemed to want his sister to hear. "Years and years of her taunts over our own lashings, years and years of Father seeing her as too dainty and breakable for her own, years and years of her jeering at us for our reactions to our thrashings- and she turns right around and wails and carries on when she gets her own beating? Can you believe such a thing?"

Thomas shook his head, doing his best to back bite a smile as he continued onward in his stride. "If we are true to ourselves, we cannot be false to anyone."

I did not know what that meant. I just knew that it sounded smart.

And that he had not noticed me swipe the pocket watch from his pouch as he spoke the words.

Sorry, Thomas. I do like you. It is just business.