Pauper Princess

Chapter Thirteen

As expected, the next day was not as peaceful as the night before. Less so than expected, even.

It seemed that one of the other children- we did not know which- had been passing by the Baldwin Manor on their way home and had seen Elizabeth's scolding, as well as the backhand that her Mother had dealt her.

The girls who Elizabeth somehow considered her 'friends' were abuzz as they spoke of it. For the life of me, I would never understand how rumors spread so quickly amongst uppercrust girls, who all retreated to their own large homes several acres away from one another at the end of each night.

"I thought you said that your parents never strike you, Elizabeth," Clara teased Elizabeth- Clara, Cordelia, and their younger sister were visiting for the day, as their Mother had tea with Lady Baldwin. Michael was climbing the tree above us, and I was itching to do the same. Only the idea of being scolded in front of company stopped me.

Thomas had chosen to remain on the far end of the yard for the day, stating that he needed to study now that the schoolyear was drawing near. Yet the book in his hand had not had a single page turned since Susanna had made her way to the gate that separated her yard from ours- the gate that Thomas had conveniently chosen to sit near.

"Yes, Elizabeth," Cordelia giggled. "Isn't that what you said when we all got into trouble for spilling tea on our Sunday dresses? Mother went to lash our hands for being careless, but you said that such things were beneath you."

Elizabeth glared above their heads, her eyes focused on the leaves of the tree providing us shade. "Well, it was true. It is all Amelia's fault! She came here and has been acting up so much that they brought that horrible Miss Lancing here."

I scoffed, straightening the dress of the doll in my lap. I was still in awe of the fact that I had a doll- and a fine doll at that. "It was my fault that you were disciplined for talking back to your mother? It was not even Miss Lancing who struck you."

Ignoring my words- likely because she had no defense- Elizabeth turned to the other girls. "You do not know how difficult it is to share a room with Amelia."

Cordelia glanced at me. "Well, why do you two not each get your own room? Clara and I are twins, and even we do not have to share."

"Because she is a street urchin, and father thinks she must be in the same room as me so I can teach her how to be a lady. But the Queen herself could not teach this girl such a thing! She does not even know the alphabet, you know, nor which spoon to use for tea."

Rolling my eyes, I continued to ignore their banter. I was looping long strands of grass together- a rare patch was growing near the base of the tree, for long grass was difficult to come by in this well-manicured lawn- and tying the ends to each other to form the rough outline of a doll. Unlike Elizabeth, I only owned the one doll, so had decided to craft others to play with, as well.

Despite Miss Lancing's insistence that the dolls in the daytime nursery belonged to both Elizabeth and I, it simply was not worth the struggle. I wished there was a cornfield nearby. My whole life had been spent drying out cornhusks to make dolls from scratch. They were far sturdier than grass, anyway.

As I tied strands of grass around my makeshift doll's waist and let them flow down to make a skirt, I felt eyes on me. It was Cordelia and Clara's youngest sister, who had been dragged along for tea, as well, despite having no girl her age here. She could not have been older than perhaps five.

"Is that a doll?" The girl asked- I couldn't remember her name for the life of me! Still, I nodded, taking one final, thick strand of grass and tying it around the dolls head to make a bonnet.