On the strength of this he told himself he had no right to question her as to why she’d so obviously and intentionally ruined what appeared to have been such a good sketch originally.
Moments later he knew he had to find out why, if only for his own peace of mind.
Twelve
Ellie knocked on the study door. She’d been sent for in such a way that the first thought in her head was, again, dismissal. She couldn’t get over this constant dread that one day it might happen – her life here felt that tenuous. This bad blood between her and Mrs Lowe had her in fear that one day the woman would persuade Doctor Lowe to dispense with her services. Yet she had no cause to imagine he would allow his wife to rule him. He’d once said as much to her.
Early this morning Ellie had been in his study making up the fire. He would have made a point of being there to tell her without the fuss of asking Mrs Jenkins to send her up. With no sign of him this morning, she’d lingered to do a little rough sketch of his desk, concentrating on perspective, as Michael Deel had taught her to do.
She often brought a few sheets of paper with old sketches on the other side, economizing. As she’d put the drawing on to a chair with the others, to finish her chores, she’d heard cautious footsteps on the bare linoleum of the long passage, not like Doctor Lowe’s ponderous tread. She had waited, not daring to breathe, and forgotten the drawings when she’d left, after the footsteps had receded, sure that they’d belonged to his wife.
Although she had been in Doctor Lowe’s study for the purpose of housework, she had a fear of being seen entering or leaving because of the secrecy around her using it for other purposes than household duties.
She’d been concerned when Doctor Lowe had offered his study not simply for her tutor to instruct her but for her to practise her drawing and painting at other times. She recalled saying, ‘What if Mrs Lowe finds me here?’ to which he had replied with a wry smile, ‘No need to worry; she never comes in here. We seldom meet except at meal times or at functions or when meeting friends. There were times we’d relax together in the sitting room, but not since our daughter died. These days my good wife prefers her room.’
When she had pointed out that she didn’t have a lot of time off work to spend drawing and stuff, not even if she came in here, his reply had been that young Rose would be doing more around the house.
‘That will give you an hour or so to yourself now and again,’ he’d said. ‘Leave me to deal with anyone querying your occasional absence. So long as you don’t abuse my generosity,’ he had ended with an almost playful frown. But she hadn’t felt comfortable about it and, on asking why he was doing all this for her, had seen his face become grave.
It was then that he’d admitted that despite his better judgement, she’d helped to fill the void left by the loss of his daughter and that he was deeply grateful to her for that. ‘I would like to have given her so many things,’ he’d said, ‘but I can give them to you…’
His words had faded on one last word – ‘compensation’ – mumbled as he’d turned away momentarily and he hadn’t seen the look of pleasure she’d felt must have been there on her face. By the time he’d turned back it had been replaced by a tinge of contrition, sorrow for him, despite her elation.
Now, as she knocked on the study door, she was sure his wife had been spying on her this morning and was compelling him to let her go. At the request for her to enter, she did so almost belligerently.
When Mrs Jenkins had relayed the message that she was wanted upstairs, her expression had been doleful. When Ellie had asked why she was being summoned, the reply had been, ‘You’ll find out for yourself when you get up there. But the master didn’t look happy when he asked for you.’
Indeed he didn’t. Ellie lifted her head in defiance. If this was what it seemed, she wasn’t going to bow her head in meek acceptance, nor beg for a reference. He had no right to make her feel as if she was a treasure to him, only to issue her marching orders because his wife had taken against her. She would certainly tell him his fortune before sweeping out of the study to collect what bits and pieces of possessions she had.
Her only thought now was how to get her sister to come with her. It would be one in the eye for high-and-mighty Mary Lowe. That’d show her! That was if she could convince Dora to leave.
She was composing her plan to get her to come when she saw the sheet of paper Doctor Lowe held in his right hand. With his left he indicated the chair to one side of his desk. ‘Come and sit down, my dear.’
The tone was so kind and gentle, despite the straight face, that she found herself doing as he asked. The next thing she knew, he had drawn up another chair to sit close in front of her.
‘My dear,’ he began quietly. ‘I’ve been glancing through some of the drawings you left in here. I’m glad you took up my invitation to use my study for them. It gives you privacy to concentrate. And you are showing great talent, I must say. I am very pleased – pleased to have engaged a tutor. And I am very proud of you, my dear.’
This wasn’t what she’d expected, but she said nothing.
‘There is just one small concern that I have,’
