The Chateau on the Lake by Charlotte Betts Read Free Book Online Page A

Papa’s library. Mrs Jephcott smiles briefly at me from her seat beside the window.
    ‘Ah, Madeleine,’ he says. ‘As a courtesy I thought it time to appraise you of the changes I’m about to instigate in the Academy.’ He peers at me over the top of his glasses.
    It’s strange to see this portly little person seated behind the desk, instead of Papa’s lithe figure. ‘Changes?’ I ask.
    ‘Of course there must be changes,’ he says, a trifle impatiently. ‘I’ve discussed the sad situation of your parents’ passing with the landlord and he is happy for me to take over the rent payments from the next quarter day. Additionally, my purchase of the adjacent property is now complete.’
    ‘That’s good news,’ I say, even though I find it hard to be excited by it.
    ‘So at last we can move forward with the improvements,’ says Mrs Jephcott.
    ‘As you’ll be aware,’ says Mr Jephcott, unrolling a large drawing, ‘I’ve been in consultation with an architect who has produced plans of the new arrangements.’ He beckons me closer and Mrs Jephcott comes to join us.
    ‘There will be new openings here between the two buildings on all four floors,’ he says. ‘The greater space will allow not only for additional classrooms on the ground and first floors but also for dormitories. The kitchens in the basement will be enlarged to serve the girls’ dining room, which will be here.’
    ‘In our drawing room?’
    ‘There’s no need for a drawing room in this side of the house any more since Mrs Jephcott, Lydia and I will have our own spacious private quarters in the new house.’
    ‘I see.’ And where am I to sit in the evenings? I wonder. ‘And the new dormitories?’ I ask.
    Mrs Jephcott points to the second-floor plan. ‘All these large bedrooms on the second floor will comfortably house six girls each.’
    ‘But this one is my own room,’ I say. A flicker of fear or anger, I know not which, kindles in my breast.
    Mr Jephcott smiles. ‘We can charge parents extra for those whose daughters would like a view overlooking Soho Square.’
    ‘So where do you intend me to sleep?’
    ‘The attics will provide a dormitory for twelve of the younger girls and further dormitories for staff and servants. We might squeeze in a partition to allow you some privacy, in respect of your former privileged position with the school.’
    ‘I imagine you would prefer a room of your own, however small?’ says Mrs Jephcott.
    ‘So I’m to be relegated to a poky cupboard in the attics?’ Outrage makes my hands and voice tremble.
    ‘Madeleine, dear,’ says Mrs Jephcott, a steely glint in her eye, ‘you must see that Mr Jephcott will be put to a great deal of expense to make these improvements? It’s essential that we use the space economically and make provision for as many girls as possible to bring in the necessary income. Your own salary depends upon it.’
    I clench my fists and fix Mr Jephcott with a baleful glare. ‘And do I have no say in how matters will be arranged?’
    ‘Your teaching skills are known and acknowledged,’ he says, ‘and we would, of course, be very sorry to lose you.’
    I hear the implied threat in his words and a wave of fear overwhelms my righteous anger, forcing me to drop my gaze. There is nowhere else for me to go.
    Mrs Jephcott sighs. ‘I do hope you aren’t going to be awkward, Madeleine. Changes are often difficult to accept at first but it’s necessary to do what is required for the greater good.’
    I’m too furious and unhappy to answer. I leave the room before I say something I may regret.
     

     
    The proposed building works commence and before long there is enough banging and hammering all day to wake the devil. Sometimes I have to shout over the noise to make myself heard in the classrooms. As I walk downstairs one day, I find two workmen carrying Mama’s favourite chaise-longue out of the drawing room.
    ‘Where are you going with that?’ I demand. I glance through the