A discordant crash echoed in her soul. “Oh.” Ivy glanced in the mirror. She didn’t think her eyes were empty, though she could be wrong. “Does Mummy have vacant eyes?” She wasn’t ready to ask about herself, but she had the same blue eyes as her mother, so if Mummy had vacant eyes, so did Ivy.
Something changed in Alice’s face then. Her lips tightened, her face became hard as granite, and her cheeks flushed dark. “Did Elsie say you have vacant eyes?”
Ivy wiggled from foot to foot. “I-I suppose so.” It must be an insult if Alice had reacted so strongly to it. She hoped Elsie didn’t get in trouble. Ivy would hate to be the one who got anyone in trouble.
Alice stamped her foot and walked toward the door. “Come, Ivy. We’re going downstairs for breakfast, and I have to talk to Mummy.”
Ivy chased after her. “Alice! Alice, there’s no need to tell Mummy. Perhaps it’s not such a bad thing.”
“I think it is.” Alice paused by the door. “I think a girl in our hire insulted you, and I doubt she’ll be in our hire much longer.”
Ivy winced, but the look in Alice’s eyes told her there wasn’t much she could do. She followed closely after Alice out of the room. She had to, after all, or she’d be stuck in the nursery for some time—Pearlbelle Park’s great manor house was too big and too grand for Ivy to navigate by herself, even though she’d lived there six months and visited before that.
Mummy and Mr. Knight, as well as Mr. Parker and Miss Elton, were already in the breakfast room when Alice and Ivy entered. Ivy didn’t understand why Mr. Parker was still at Pearlbelle Park, since he was a grown-up man. Grown-up men, in Ivy’s opinion, should find a place of their own to live.
Miss Elton she understood a little better—the good thing about being a girl was that one didn’t necessarily have to move out when one grew up. Miss Elton was as old as Mummy, but she still lived here at Pearlbelle Park.
Someday Ivy hoped to be just like Miss Elton, only she didn’t believe her mother would die like Miss Elton’s mother had. That was sad, and Ivy felt bad for her, but thankfully, her Mummy was the strong type. If she ever died, it would be when she was very old indeed. Ivy didn’t like to think about that, either, but at least it was a long ways away.
“There you are! I’d started to wonder.” Mummy, already sitting at the table, held out her arms, and Ivy ran into them for a morning hug and kiss. Morning hugs and kisses made all the difference in how good the day to come would be.
Ivy settled onto a seat next to Mummy, once again glad that her mother wasn’t the type who had breakfast in bed. That was all very well and good, Ivy supposed, but a girl just needed to see her mother in the morning, and her having breakfast in bed would ruin the chances of that.
Alice slid onto her seat, but it was clear she hadn’t forgotten the reason she’d hurried down to the breakfast room. “I have something to discuss with you.”
Mummy raised her eyebrows as she poured tea into Ivy’s cup. “Indeed?” It was clear from the little smiles about her mouth that she didn’t quite believe Alice’s matter could be serious.
“Yes. That maid you hired—Elsie—is particularly rotten.”
The smiles vanished. “What do you mean?”
“When I came up today, Ivy was in tears.” Alice folded her arms across her chest. “I thought it was just because Elsie brushes her hair too roughly, and I think Ivy ought to be somewhat used to that, so I wouldn’t have said anything. But Ivy says Elsie told her she had vacant eyes.”
Mummy glanced down at Ivy, then sideways, up the table, to Mr. Knight. “Is that so?” She kept her voice calm, but there was a tightness to it that Ivy was easily able to pick up.
“I thought perhaps she meant because they’re blue.” Ivy tugged at Mummy’s sleeve. “Alice’s are dark and much more full—right?”
“No, darling—no.” Mummy’s face turned from neutral to a frown. “You have beautiful, full eyes. Elsie was being cruel, but she won’t be again.”
Mr. Knight cleared his throat. He glanced between Alice and Mummy, then spoke. “Do you think—?”
“I know she will leave tomorrow, and I know you will not give her a reference.” Mummy dropped her napkin on her lap. “And that’s final.”
“Very well. I’ll take care of it after breakfast.” Mr. Knight sighed. “It’s really a shame. I believe I’d spoken with the girl when I hired her about being sensitive. I suppose it’s hard to find good help.”
Mr. Parker drummed his fingers on the table. “It is. I’d see about hiring someone from London and having a more intensive interview process. I can help—I’m a better judge of character than you are, Phil.”
Mummy’s eyes were still snapping, and they were definitely full—full of anger. “At any rate, that situation’s taken care of.” She glanced down. “Ivy, darling, please tell me if someone treats you that way. We’ll talk about it more later, so you can know when it’s not all right.”
Ivy sighed. She didn’t like tattling, and now Elsie had lost her job! Perhaps if Ivy hadn’t been bad—perhaps if she hadn’t had vacant eyes—Elsie would still be employed.
But she didn’t say anything and quietly began eating her breakfast. The conversation around her started to buzz pleasantly, letting her know that people had moved on and were talking about regular things.
“Of course, there’s a great deal of preparation to get out of the way before next week, when the guests arrive.”
The buzzing stalled, and Ivy glanced up at her mother, unsure if she’d heard the words right. “Guests?” She said the word so softly she was unsure if Mummy heard, but apparently she did, for she turned to Ivy.
“Yes—you remember we’ll be having guests next week, don’t you? For Christmas. Your grandmother and Uncle Charlie will be coming, too. It will be a grand time.”
Grand time? With even more people there than there was already? Ivy gripped the arm of her chair to remind herself that there was a world beyond the spinning in her head. “How many?”
“A dozen or so.” Mummy’s eyes grew concerned. “Of course, they’re all grown-ups, Ivy. You can ignore them.”
Ignore them? Their very proximity would affect Ivy’s chances at having any sort of a happy Christmas. But she just nodded and returned to her toast, trying not to think about it.
“I suppose this is all an effort to regain social standing.” As it often did, Mr. Parker’s voice cut through Ivy’s consciousness like an unsharpened knife forcing its way through a loaf of bread. “Do you think it’ll work?”
Mr. Knight glared at Mr. Parker. “I don’t think it’s a matter worth discussion.”
“Isn’t it?” Mr. Parker smiled. Ivy had never liked Mr. Parker’s smile, because he had a beard, and she didn’t like beards. Alice said he looked distinguished, but Ivy thought he was scary.
“It is not uncommon for a family to entertain houseguests over the holidays.” Mummy took a determined sip of her tea. “We are simply reaching out to old friends of the family to reassure them that goodwill remains despite certain changes.”