Rebecca and Lavinia, who were beautiful replicas of their mother, also stood, and three pairs of accusing eyes glared at her.
“How could you be so callous with our reputations,” Lavinia fairly screamed. “Can you imagine my shock when speaking with my dear friend, Lady Prescott, this morning? She mentioned the most delightful person she had interviewed to become a governess to her children. I had to deny that the Miss Poppy Ashford she met was any relation to my family at all!”
Poppy gently closed the door behind her. “Mother—”
“You could have ruined us with your selfish scheme!” her stepmother snapped. “Until Rebecca is wed, you will not do anything so low as to seek positions!”
Her heart beat so fiercely, it took Poppy several moments to gather her composure. Lifting her chin, she replied. “It was never my intention to embarrass my family, only to seek a living for myself.”
“You are provided with enough,” Lavinia snapped, her cheeks mottled red with her anger. “Mama is under no obligation to have you continue living with her. And even now I have you in my home in London! Without us, would you have ever gotten the opportunity to come to Town?”
Poppy loved her younger sisters and doted on them, even seeing how much their mother spoilt them. Her stepmother had little to no affection for Poppy. Growing up, every degree of attention was paid to Rebecca and Lavinia by their mother and father. They were young beauties everyone in the village spoke about and the matches they would make because of it. The predictions had proven true when Lavinia netted herself a baron who had an income of ten thousand pounds a year.
“I do not discount your generosity,” Poppy said quietly, “but it is not enough.”
Her stepmother spluttered. “You ungrateful—”
“Mother,” Poppy interjected. “I do not say it is not enough to imply that you must do more. I simply mean that I must do more for my life, which is why I have been trying to secure a respectable post. I am not given pin money. My clothes are from three years ago, and most of them I have sewn myself. I am not a participant in the family’s activities, merely an observer.”
Being an observer sometimes brought amusement to her life, but there were times Poppy had hungered and ached with every emotion in her heart to be a part of their gatherings and frivolities. “I do my best to repay your kindness by doing the things you ask of me, even when they are the tasks for servants.”
“Do not blame us if father left you no dowry! He understood with your lack of beauty, your come-out would be a failure,” Lavinia sniped.
Poppy leaned on the door and gripped the doorknob so tightly her fingers ached.
Lavinia sat on the sofa and, with grace, poured tea into a cup. There was a fine shaking in her hands. “Nor will you blame us for not spending our monies on your wardrobe. You had the chance to marry the Vicar Rushworth, and you refused! If you insist on working, uncaring of how it will affect Rebecca’s chance on the marriage mart and my reputation, you will pack and leave my home immediately.”
Poppy felt as if someone had stabbed her through her heart. Glancing at Rebecca, who was eighteen and taking part in her first season, Poppy felt a flare of regret. She had not thought that her seeking a post might ruin her sister’s chances.
“I’ll be a laughingstock if it is known I have a sister who works as a governess!” Lavinia said, turning away as if she could not bear to look at Poppy.
“If you require me to leave your home, I will do so,” Poppy said softly. She tried to appear calm, but inside, her heart raced, and she felt as if she would shatter. Not once had her sisters said anything to understand why she had to seek a position. She had nowhere else to live. The manor where she had spent most of her life was occupied by a distant cousin and his family. She lived with her stepmother and Rebecca in a charming seven-bedroom cottage in Lincolnshire.
Poppy had fifty pounds, her mother's pearl necklace, a small painting of her mother, music sheets, and the letters she had exchanged in the last two years with Mr. James Delaney. And his greatcoat, which she sometimes scandalously slept with. Those were all the precious things she owned.
“Lavinia,” Rebecca said, sitting beside her sister and clasping her hands. “If Poppy leaves, who will I have to be my chaperone?”
Another piercing ache went through Poppy, and she felt it in her bones. The only value she held to her family was in how they could use her. Poppy almost hated herself at this moment for truly loving her sisters.
“Since you are looking for work, I will hire you,” her stepmother said with evident disdain. “Though I provide a roof over your head and food, clearly it is not enough.”
“Hire me?” Poppy asked, truly astonished.
Her stepmother’s lips flattened. “You will accompany your sister as her chaperone for the season. I will ensure you are compensated one hundred pounds for this duty.”
Poppy’s heart lurched. “One hundred pounds?”
“Yes.”
“No,” Poppy said and started to turn away.
“You ridiculous, ungrateful girl! That sum is what most governess’s make for the year! And that was the post you were silly enough to enquire after with no thought to the family’s reputation.”
Poppy stared at her stepmother, another ache rising in her throat, but she was firm when she replied, “I will take no less than six hundred pounds.”
Several gasps sounded, ranging from affronted to outrage.
“How outrageous you are,” Lavinia said, hurrying to stand beside her mother in support. “Rebecca is your sister! You should happily want to be her chaperone.”
“Mother is capable; why am I needed?” Poppy asked softly. Though she knew it well. They wanted to be free to enjoy the frivolities of the season. No one wanted to be watching Rebecca as she walked in the garden with a suitor, or danced with him, or sit nearby to ensure all the proper niceties and decorum were maintained until an offer was made and announced.
Her stepmother was still ravishing herself at two and forty and had her eye on a certain widower viscount. Her ambitions did not end with her daughter. Lavinia had gotten airs since she married her baron, and what elegant airs they were. Their father had been a country gentleman with little connection to the nobility. But the two daughters he had with his second wife had been blessed with great beauty. Lavinia had secured herself a baron without even having a season. They had met at a ball in the nearby small town’s assembly room, and only two weeks later, he had offered for her.
What a catch it had been and the talk of the village for weeks. Lavinia had taken to life in the haute monde with ease and grace. Her mannerisms had gotten loftier, her mode of dress vibrant and wealthy, as if she had been born with the golden spoon in her mouth. At one and twenty, she did not want to act as a matron or chaperone to her younger sister. No, Lavinia would laugh and dance and dazzle with the best of them. In their eyes, only Poppy had no prospects, so her time was available for them to make demands. Well, not without compensation. She must plan for her future in whatever manner she deemed fit.
“The governess post offered by the Marquess of Lindstrom pays fifty pounds per month. A very generous compensation to assist in educating his three lovely children. If I am to refuse that post, the compensation must, of course, match.” Poppy hoped they would not realize she had not been offered the position. Nor did she have the confidence she would be the candidate selected.