She shifted and pushed him away. “No, I don’t think so. Leave me alone, please” She pushed past him toward the house and he followed her, a salacious grin on his face. Gertie dropped her head, her cheeks stained red with embarrassment.
He caught up with her. “I love it when you play hard to get. Makes it all the more real, but I sense you’re not kidding this time.” He held up his hands. “I’m sorry, my love. Let me walk you inside before I leave. You certainly look like you need to lie down. I’ve never seen you so pale and washed out.”
She gulped back a sigh of relief and let him take her arm while Gertie stayed close behind them. Together they made their way back to the house, and up the wide staircase to the first floor. He paused before they got to her room and he frowned, gazing at the paintings of their distant relatives while speaking.
“Tomorrow if you would be kind enough to give me an hour or so in the morning, there are things I’d like to discuss with you away from the house. Prying eyes and all that stuff.” He winked at Gertie. “Not you, my dear girl, you’re the soul of discretion, I know.”
They reached the bedroom door and she paused. “Thank you, Ernest.” She slipped inside, closing the door firmly behind her, her legs trembling. She’d been worried he’d want to kiss her goodbye. She didn’t understand his comments about keeping up the pretence either. Her head was too sore to even worry about it. Though it was also clear to her that Papa didn’t approve of Wilz and Ernest’s attachment.
According to several disparaging remarks from Papa over dinner later that night, her headache had reduced her normal lively contribution to the conversation almost down to zero. An event he seemed to enjoy. “Rather nice to have you so quiet and submissive for a change, Wilhelmina.” Papa frowned across the table. “I much prefer you like this. It’s how a young woman should be in this day and age. Your mother encouraged you far too much in my mind.” He picked up his glass and held it in his hand. “Ruined you as far as I’m concerned.”
Unusual for a girl in the forties to stand up against her father in his opinion, but Billie thought she would have liked Wilz immensely if she’d known her.
The meal finished, she excused herself. Hurrying up the staircase to her room, she couldn’t help but wonder how long this episode would last. She had the fleeting feeling that one day she wouldn’t wake up in her own skin.
She rushed into the bedroom, shut the door behind. A couple of deep breaths while she let her nerves settle and then she strode over to the dressing table. Billie sank onto the chair and rested her head on her hands, she wished she could go back to yesterday. What on earth had possessed her to think she could do this?
A tap on the door startled her. “Yes, who is it?”
“Only me, Miss. Come to help you get ready for bed.” Primrose bustled into the room, her white teeth bright against her dark skin. It seemed as though she was in a permanent state of happiness. Her mood did nothing to help Billie’s own despondent feelings settle.
“I can undress myself.” She stood up and faced the maid.
“I know, Miss, but it’s my job. Don’t want me to get into trouble do you?” The girl sounded more frightened than Billie thought she needed to be. It seemed that Papa ran a tight ship. It was the only thing she could think of. An idea took hold in her mind.
“Primrose, how about this for a change. Sit down and talk to me instead. Things are jumbled in my mind, from that knock to the head.” She tried to laugh, ease the girl’s worry but all she got was a fearful look in return. “Talk to me about your time here. What you’ve achieved, what you like and don’t like. It will ease my headache to listen to your voice.”
Primrose stared at her in disbelief and Billie started to panic. “Mama would tell me stories if I wasn’t feeling well and she’s no longer here. You’d be doing me a great honour if you would talk to me. Please?”
A hint of a smile touched the maid’s lips and Billie knew she’d hit on a good idea. She moved over to the bed and sat down, patted the eiderdown beside her and waited for Primrose to take a seat and start talking.
“If’n you think it will do the job, Miss.” Primrose sat at the end of the bed leaving space between them.
“Come here when I was a young’un, about ten I was. Ten year ago it was when you were fourteen.”
She darted a glance at Billie from under her lashes. “Perfect, Primrose. Please continue.”
“Missus, your mama taught me how to take care of you, she did. You and Miss Gertrude. ’Course you were the wild one, always chasing after your papa when he went working out in them fields, getting away from me before I could dress you hair most days. Insisted on making sure the animals were taken care of and the farmers doin’ their jobs.” She picked at the hem of her apron, running the material through her fingers. Her short nails shone pink against the deep brown of her fingers. “Your poor mama, she had no hope of keeping you in the house like a little lady. Always traipsing off around the farm, even wearing men’s britches if you could get away with it just like you do now. Not very lady like, she would say.”
“And what would I reply?”
“Somethin’ about not going down that road unless it was the only way to win.”
“So, I’m a bit conniving, then. How very interesting.”
“Oh no, Miss. Like your own way is all. Nothin’ wrong
