The Apprentice Girl // Book 3 in the Rosie Grey series

Chapter Eleven

The awkward tension from the meeting in the drawing-room continued as we moved into the dining room for dinner. Esther took her usual spot near the back wall and Sarah stood beside her until everyone had been seated at the table. The two of them then walked around and handed out vegetables, mash and slices of pie that had been pre-cut in the kitchen. Once the food had been passed around, they poured glasses of wine, or in my case water, and returned to their previous position.

Although saying Grace was common in most, if not all households, I had never known the Ealing's to say it so it came as no surprise when they immediately started to eat their dinner. I picked at the food on my plate, not really wanting to eat it because I didn't feel as though I should have been there. I felt as though I should have been standing beside Esther and Sarah with my head bowed and waiting to be summoned for some reason or another. Despite escaping the life of a servant, I didn't want my friend to be serving me.

James gave me a small nudge under the table and nodded his head towards the food on my plate as a way of telling me to start eating it. Had I not, it would seem rude and considering the discussion that had just taken place in the drawing-room, I didn't want that to happen. I started to eat the food that had been provided and couldn't help but smile at the taste of Miss Jenkins' cooking. It had been one of the few things I had missed upon leaving. She could prepare a pie like no other.

We ate in silence for the majority of dinner. I expect no one wanted to speak in fear of setting Mrs Ealing off on some torrent of abuse that would only increase the tension that felt inescapable. The dinner table had never been so quiet in my experience and I wanted to break the silence, but Doctor Ealing got to it before me. He had never been a fan of silence either.

"How is the food? Miss Jenkins is one of the best cooks we have employed over the years," he said. He took a sip from his win and placed it onto the table.

"It's great, Rosie told me all about Miss Jenkins cooking and it's safe to say she was not wrong," James said.

"Forgive me if it is not my place to say, but yesterday you mentioned a Christmas party you're hosting. Is that correct?"

"Yes, our mother would host them when we were children but after she died, we stopped and even after Father disappeared into obscurity, it didn't feel right to host one without Rosie. Now that she's back, we thought it would be the best time to re-start the tradition. Besides, it works out as a Birthday present for Rosie as well."

"Speaking of the party, I received a letter from Aunt Molly yesterday, she said she will be attending," Christopher said. It had been the first time he had spoken since we had walked through the threshold.

"Does she have to?" I said.

"Rosie," James warned, but he almost smiled.

"What? She has never liked me. Do you not remember the time she made me stand in the corner with a stack of books on my bed because she caught me in a tree and deemed it unladylike behaviour? Had it not been for Mother teaching me the art of book balancing, I would have been there for hours."

"She never liked Matthew either, she thought that being a carpenter was beneath him. She's probably going to faint when she sees us," Christopher added.

"That's enough, both of you. She's coming and there is nothing we can do about it."

"Pretend we're not in?" I suggested.

Robert snorted and quickly made an attempt to turn it into a cough, but he had not been all that successful and received a glare from Mrs Ealing. I thought it to be a rather good idea since Aunt Molly would no doubt get bored and find someone else to berate instead of us, but I knew James would never agree to it. He had been Aunt Molly's favourite for years and I doubt that had changed in the seven years I had been gone, though I didn't know when they had seen her last.