Letters and Love

Chapter Eleven: Elizabeth

"It really wasn't her fault."

Three weeks had passed since that disastrous dinner party, the day I had returned home. I barely spoke to my sister-in-law, which had earned my brother's attention. It was impossible to know whether he had noticed it himself or if he only noticed because of Angelica's complaints.

"She fired Sally Emerson," I reminded him, keeping my eyes on my books. Mother was sleeping, and I'd hoped to have an hour of peace in the parlor. But my brother had come in and I was certain our conversation would not be relaxing. "She didn't have to do that."

John paused and cleared his throat. "She had her reasons for that," he responded. "Sally must have done something wrong."

"Sally told me that's not the case."

"You spoke to Sally?"

I looked at him over the top of my book. He was still dressed in his Sunday finery. I considered informing him that he had dripped some soup on his vest, but decided not to. He was a grown man capable of overseeing his appearance.

"Of course I spoke to Sally," I told him. My tone may have been sharper than was absolutely necessary, but I was annoyed. I only ever had moments to myself anymore. "Who else would I speak to about what happened when Angelica refused to do so?"

My brother shifted from foot to foot. "Well, you shouldn't have expected her to tell the truth. Why would she admit that she did something wrong?"

"Sally has never lied before," I informed him, offended on behalf of the maid. "She told me that Angelica didn't give her a reason as to why she had to leave, just sent her off without a letter of recommendation. And she didn't even pay Sally's last week of wages."

I'd been horrified when I'd heard all of this. Angelica had not been even a little fair in the situation. Sally hadn't thought she'd done something to offend the woman. My promise to write a letter of recommendation mollified her a little.

"There must have been a misunderstanding—"

I slammed my novel shut. "Well, then, it is time the misunderstanding was cleared up. Pay Sally what she is owed," I said sharply. "And while you're at it, explain why another maid hasn't been hired? Mary Eastlake's sister, Susan, is looking for a position, but Angelica said no."

"I don't interfere with how my wife manages the house, just as she does not interfere with how I manage the bank," John answered, his tone defensive. "If Angelica hadn't hired anyone, it must mean we can manage without a maid. Not everyone has that kind of luxury, you know. It isn't as though this is Britain or even one of the big cities here in America."

My hands, coarsened by the weeks of washing, scrubbing, and cooking, curled into fists. "Mother needs my care, John, and I can't give it if I am kept tied to the kitchen," I pointed out, my temper rising with every minute. "What if I wasn't here? Where would you be then?"

He let out a laugh. "Where would you be if you weren't here?" John moved to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. "Maryanne will only need your help for a few months at most. After the dinner party you refused to attend, I doubt Mr. Willis is interested in your company."

Did he realize how cruel he sounded? I don't think he did, the oblivious idiot.

"First of all, Maryanne hasn't invited me to come help her for any length of time," I told him, keeping my tone at a controlled level. "She has not even hinted that she might want me to come when her time comes."

"Oh. Well, Angelica was certain you would go. She is our sister, after all, and we should help each other when we can."

Although I could never claim my brother and I were close when we were growing up, I thought we at least had some understanding of each other. We'd all be raised by the same parents, who'd helped us to be as independent as we could. Just because one of us did something, did not mean the rest of us needed to do so as well.