“I won’t be long, don’t hover, darling, there’s a love.” She sat down and picked up her perfume bottle, holding it like a barrier between her and her sister.
“You seem out of sorts. I’m a little bit worried. It’s been happening quite a bit lately.” Gertie frowned.
“Probably need a trip to Sydney to get away from Papa and the estate. That should sort me out nicely, I think. A dinner at a nice restaurant, a bottle of expensive champagne, who could ask for more?”
“If you’re sure.” When the door closed, she rested her head on her hands, breathed deeply. There was something missing and for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what it was. A fleeting glimpse of a blond-haired child, a cheeky grin and then it was gone. She couldn’t grasp hold of it long enough to make any sense of it. And that voice. The honeyed smooth baritone that had urged her to help him. Help him with what? Why?
Perhaps that knock on the head had done her some permanent damage. Perhaps that was to be the easiest answer to her problems. Heaven forbid she turn into a mad woman. Papa would have someone to keep him company when he was in his moods. The idea did not bode well with her. Maybe it was hereditary and she was coming into it now
Shaking herself, Wilz hurried with her toilet, her ear tuned in to listen to the noise her father made when he got upset. She slid the watch on her wrist, clipped it up and pushed it up her arm then opened her jewellery box, picking over earrings until she found what she wanted. After a spray of her favourite perfume, she was ready to face Papa and another night of cajoling and temper tantrums. A couple of stiff sherries would help.
By the time she’d her way down the stairs, Papa’s voice echoed loud and clear above everyone else. Mr. Carter stood at the bottom of the stairs, a worried look on his face. She put her hand on his shoulder as she descended to the bottom step. “Leave it with me, Carter. I’ll deal with him. Tell Mrs. Hughes to leave dinner for about a half an hour, will you? I think drinks and a chat are in order before we go into the dining room. If the meal spoils, tell her I’ll take full responsibility. I need to calm Papa first.”
“As you wish, Miss.” He hurried away, a look of relief on his face.
She took her time walking into the sitting room, knowing it was going to be a stressful night. Papa’s voice rose over Ernest, drowning out any attempt to calm him down. She grabbed the handle and pushed the door open, pasting a smile on her face.
“Dear Papa, I’d love a sherry if you don’t mind. It’s been a busy day and to tell you the truth, I could fall asleep on my feet.”
He threw her a look of total confusion. “What, I don’t know what you mean, Wilhelmina.”
She stepped forward and touched his arm, rubbing it affectionately while giving him a dazzling smile. “I’ve been down sorting out the young horses. Since we’re selling off some of our yearlings, I thought it would be a good time to weed out the mares as well. We don’t need them all. The farrier helped me, cleaned up their feet and checked their teeth. He’ll come back and finish off what he didn’t get done within the week.” She forced another smile and pointed at the drinks trolley. “Sherry please, Papa.”
“Selling how many did you say?” He studied the glass in his hand, a blank look on his face.
“I didn’t actually, but I did manage to come up with fourteen. Should bring in a tidy sum.” She shook her head and took his empty glass, strolled over to the trolley and poured him another drink, and one for herself, and continued to chatter about her day, distracting her father from his earlier rant.
The next half hour passed quietly while he concentrated on what she had to say. By the time dinner was announced, he was calm.
Ernest grimaced, the wink thanking her for restoring calm. She saluted him with her empty glass before she put it down and linked her hand through Papa’s arm and guided him to his seat at the head of the table.
“Thank you, my dear.” He sat looking at his plate with a slightly confused expression on his face until his meal was served.
The conversation over the meal remained calm until Ernest mentioned the girls impending trip to Sydney.
“Gertrude is not going. I forbid it, do you hear me?” Papa’s eyes flared and spittle dribbled down his chin. “I forbid it!”
“Oh, Papa, really. Gertie is entitled to a chance at happiness, you know. I fail to see why on earth she should bury herself here at Foxborough Hall for the rest of her life. It’s a ridiculous idea.”
He slammed his hand down on the table, making the closest glasses topple. Red wine stained the white tablecloth and Gertie gasped.
Wilz gave her a warning look before turning to her father. “You have to realize, Papa that times have changed. There is no reason why she should stay here. She will be twenty-one soon. Her own woman. They need eager girls like her
