Pauper Princess

Chapter Fifteen

Elizabeth proved to be a good ally, indeed. She wanted me out very badly, it seemed, because as Miss Lancing focused on dressing me in my church clothes, I watched as Elizabeth snuck over to the opposite end of the bed, slipping some of her hair ribbons and silverware that she had swiped from breakfast in with the rest of my collection of hidden items.

As I stepped down from the stool, Elizabeth came to stand beside me. She had an item clenched in her grasp, and she inconspicuously slipped it into my hand as Miss Lancing turned to lead us down the stairs. I shoved it into my pocket without even glancing down to see what it was.

The church was far enough that we all piled into the carriage rather than walking, and Elizabeth was quick to sit beside me and make sure my pocket was hidden, so whatever little trinket I had stuffed into it would not be visible to those around us as I sat.

Elizabeth leaned close to me, covering her mouth to whisper into my ear. "We will enter the church through the front gate. The bread line will be to right of us."

I looked at her and nodded, not bothering to mention that I already knew that. I had been in the breadline myself plenty of times.

Lady Baldwin smiled at us. "It is lovely to see you girls getting along so well. Make sure to keep that good behavior up at church, alright?"

"Yes, Mother," Elizabeth said. I nodded in agreement.

Lady Baldwin pursed her lips. "Amelia, Darling, when in public- well, really anytime- you are expected to address me as 'Mother', and my husband as 'Father'. We would not want the community to think that we were mistreating you, now, would we?"

Elizabeth's hand tightened into a fist beside me. I swallowed the lump in my throat, very uncomfortable with these new titles. "Yes, Ma'a- um... Mother."

The word 'Mother' felt foreign on my lips. It was not a word I had ever used myself- I was fairly certain that my own Mother had died before I was able to speak- and I had no knowledge of my Father. That was one of the reasons I had left the town of my birth- I had grown weary of the whispers about me, about how my Mother was probably a desolate whore, and how her sins had left her child fatherless and penniless after her death. Of the bastard child that had been born into sin and would die in it.

I did not need a father, anyway, nor a mother. I could take care of myself.

As the carriage finally reached the church, Michael was the first to hurry out of the cramped quarters. His father followed next, holding out his arm to help the rest of us down.

Elizabeth made sure to climb down before me, and to start heading towards the left. Just as I made my way down and began to shuffle further to the right- closer to the long bread line that was forming along the side of the church- she made a show of swaying before falling to the ground.

She was not a good actress. Her display was dramatic and did not seem at all realistic to me, but it did the trick. Her Mother shrieked, and Michael and Thomas turned around sharply at the sound of their Mother's cry. Lord Baldwin quickly released my arm, rushing to the side of his real daughter as other uppercrusts gasped and looked on.

Taking the chance, I turned and darted towards the bread line. My eyes scanned over the people waiting for a Sunday meal- they were all dirty and desolate looking, wearing faded and torn rags. One man had trousers that were so patched with different faded colors of fabric that they reminded me of a rainbow.

It made me a bit uncomfortable, to know how much I now stood out amongst them. Just a week or two earlier- time had seemed to move strangely since I'd been taken in off the streets- I had been dressed similarly, my face smeared with dirt just as theirs were. The bright pink of my Sunday dress stood out among the pale grays and dark cottons.