My Mother's Daughter

Chapter 2

Rebecca descended the stairs and headed for the dining room. Father was home. Her heart skipped in delight. He and Elizabeth were in a silent conversation; she was doing all the talking, while he listened dutifully. He sensed a presence in the room and looked up. His eyes crinkled at the corner, and love shone in the depths of his grey eyes. He was happy to see her.

"Becca." He said smiling. "Come have a seat young lady. Wow, to think it was just the other day you were tugging on my pants, and begging to sit on my lap." He chuckled. It was musical and very manly. Rebecca smiled, comforted by his presence. Never had she grown tired of looking at him. At forty-three his body exuded vitality, and his charisma was almost a tangible substance. His hair was chocolate brown and it was evident he had combed his fingers through it a dozen times that day.

His eyes held a clear-sighted intelligence, and his features were handsome. No other word could adequately describe the chiselled handsomeness. It would have given credit to an artist. Underneath his jacket and shirt, leaned muscles flowed beneath his tanned skin, as veins curved over his powerful forearms and square hands. His name, Edward Charles.

"It's good to see you home in time for supper, father. I really do miss when you're not here."

"Sorry darling, but it's not easy running a business, especially one as big as mine. Besides, I have to keep it a success because I want you to inherit nothing less." Elizabeth sucked in her breath at his statement. Rebecca smiled at her reaction. Two maids served the first course of the meal. No grace was said. The delicious five course meal was quickly devoured by father. Apple pie was served for dessert. Although it was Rebecca's favourite, and she truly desired two slices, according to stepmother, no real lady had second helpings. It was one of Elizabeth's golden rules.

"Well Rebecca, your father and I have something to share with you." Only her father called her Becca. Informal, her stepmother had argued, but he would hear none of it. It was his nickname for her. Her mother used to call her Becky. Rebecca's fork paused in the action of inserting the delicious delicacy into her eager mouth. Her father hesitated with his next spoonful, and he appeared nervous. Rebecca sat straight and laid the spoon down. She had lost her appetite.

"We've decided to send you to boarding school." Not 'we' you, Rebecca thought. She kept a straight face, though every inch of her panicked. It was best to ask first questions first.

"Where to?" Elizabeth smiled a triumphant smile. Things were going as planned and much easier too! Edward seemed remorseful. The dessert was now tasteless, and he pushed it around his plate.

"We were thinking, Paris. I know every girl dreams of going there." Elizabeth's eyes took on a dreamy far away look. "What do you think?" Although her voice was pleasant, there was an undercurrent of malice. No! Rebecca's mind screamed. This witch cannot, and will not send her away. It was all a ploy to get rid of her.

She looked at her father who avoided her gaze. No help there. She was alone, and bravely she took the stand. For the first time in five years, she finally disagreed and disobeyed her stepmother. And those were part of the golden rules. You never broke a rule. You just never! But she had to talk now, for no one was running her from her home like a beggar. Not even a second wife!

"I think..." Rebecca said slowly, while keeping her eyes averted. Both adults held their breaths for different reasons. "Paris sounds like fun." Elizabeth smiled with joy, while her husband's lips drooped in dismay.

"But..." Rebecca continued smoothly, "It is a pity I would not be joining the 'every girl's dream boat'." She said, mimicking her stepmother's words. Her father brightened with delight, while her stepmother barely contained her disgust.