My Mother's Daughter

Chapter 4

Supper was already on the table when Rebecca strolled into the front door. She passed her room and went straight to the attic. Five minutes later, she walked into her room, a small bundle in her hand. She took a bath and readied herself to join the two adults for dinner. Rebecca walked into the dining room half an hour late. As she entered, two pairs of eyes scrutinised her outfit. Her stepmother narrowed her gaze curiously. Her father, on the other hand, thought his daughter was extremely beautiful, with a grace of movement and a patrician air, which made an immediate impact. Just like her mother.

"What is that you're wearing?" Elizabeth tried to ask nonchalantly.

"Don't you like it? It was my mother's." Rebecca responded pleasantly.

"Though it's old fashioned it looks good on you. Definitely like your mother. Beautiful."

"Thank you father. I must apologise for my late arrival. I'm afraid I lost track of time." She explained innocently.

"It's okay Becca, sweetheart. No harm done. Well, let's start eating. I'm famished and we've starved ourselves long enough." They began to eat. Veal piccata, with a green salad on the side. Wine for the adults, apple juice for Rebecca. Again like the past five years, no grace was said.

Elizabeth studied her stepdaughter carefully. The young girl wore a coffee bean tweed jacket, and an ivory cashmere sweater over a white skirt with suede embroidery. Pearl earrings adorned her ear lopes, and a pearl necklace draped her neck. Exactly like her mother.

"Where did you get those... things you're wearing, child?" Elizabeth waved her fork. Rebecca purposefully ignored her and poured herself some wine.

"What are you doing?" Elizabeth was appalled by her behaviour.

"Why my lady, I'm pouring myself a drink. If I look like a woman I might as well drink like one, don't you think?" Rebecca lifted her glass and took a big un-lady-like gulp of the dark liquid. It tasted marvellous! But not as marvellous as seeing her stepmother turn beet red with anger. Her father chuckled merrily.

"Before I forget father, I must let you know that stepmother and I have reached a compromise on me attending the boarding school in Paris." Elizabeth's lips curled, as Edward's chuckles instantly died. Smart girl, she thought. At least she decided to come to her senses.

"The both of us have realised that in my best interest, which madam holds so dearly, I will not be going to boarding school. Not now or in the near future, but will continue on in my current school, and progress onto any University I so choose."

"What!" Elizabeth shouted harshly in disbelief. The nerve of the girl to go against her wishes and deceive her father. Utterly disgusted, yet unable to respond, Elizabeth stood with her mouth agape. Rebecca seized the opportunity to completely convince her father of her genuinity. Standing as well, she hugged her stepmother and said sincerely,

"Thank you madam for not trying to ship me off to a foreign country." She kissed Elizabeth's cheek, a whisper soft brush against the pale skin. Her father rose and did the same, for he was proud of his wife's decision. Elizabeth could not protest.

"I have a little entertainment for you both tonight. Yes madam, another surprise." She locked her eyes with her stepmother, and waited for a reaction. Her father's forehead crinkled, puzzled. Elizabeth panicked and barely managed to conceal it. Was this ignorant child about to tell her father the truth about his first wife? She too decided to follow her husband and looked puzzled. She held his hand, hoping he did not notice her cold fingertips.

"What is it dear?" Rebecca noticed the move of the older woman to hold her father's hand, and instantly knew what the other woman was thinking. She smiled secretly and thought, 'Not yet Elizabeth dear. He has enough time to learn about your transgressions.' She left them and stepped into the hall. Moments later, she returned with a black book the size of a folder. A piano book. Her mother's book. In finely written gold letters was her mother's name across the cover. She walked past them and sat at the grand piano.