"That is not the problem" she cried, insistently. "I want to know if I have any authority at all in your home."
"Of course you do. But not when you're behaving like Isabella." He retorted coolly, just before Aina came down, followed by two servants carrying a tray containing their dinner. "I'll just have a quick shower, then I'll join you for dinner." He said and left for his room.
Clara wandered slowly into the dinning hall and watched Aina set out the necessary things for dinner.
For a moment, she was tempted to ask who was reponsible for putting the rooms back to their original state, she felt the girl would have found out by now since she had gone up to the kitchen. But, she refrained herself from asking.
"Are Isabella and Beatrice not coming down?' Bennet asked when he came into the hall.
"Miss. Beatrice asked to be excused sir." Aina said. "Isabella had a little upset and Miss. Beatrice thought it was best they remain in her room."
"I see." Bennet said, but he gave Clara a quick look as he sat down, and when Aina closed the door behind her, Bennet smiled at Clara. "I bet you and Isabella didn't have a good day today." He remarked, a little dryly.
Clara began to pick on her food slowly. Her temper was already calm and she suspected that Bennet wouldn't want to associate himself with matters that have to do with his domestic staff.
"Isabella is mad at me," she said. "But it was honestly your fault."
"Oh? How is that?"
"You did not tell me about the brushes"
"The bruhes?" He asked, with a confused frown.
"The hair brushes in my room. I thought they were mine, I never knew they belonged to your wife." She said, as if she's forgotten that they were now man and wife, and Bennet eyes rested on her with a thoughtful expression.
"l..... Wow! That was stupid of me." He confessed. "Did Isabella object to you, using them?"
"Yes, but that was only natural, isn't it?I would have felt the same way as a child, if reverse was the case."
"Not very. She can barely remember what her mother looks like." It suddenly struck him that Clara must have thought he bought the brushes for her and he frowned again. "It seemed sensible to leave them where they were. But if it bothers you, I can replace them with something else." He said.
She looked across at him and smiled. "There is no need for that," she said. "The brush set is very lovely and expensive-looking. I came with my own hair brushes, I'll use them henceforth."
"I sincerely apologize for the discomfort the whole scene must have caused you."
She gave him a wide, composed look from under her thick lashes. It was a look he was coming to know and it had begun to disturb him.
"No, that's totally fine. I guess I should have asked the right questions before using them." she said.
He nodded, grateful that she didn't take it to heart. "And why were you so upset when I got back?"
"Because here, they treat me like a child," she answered.
"You said that earlier. You said they treat you like a child and an irresponsible person. How can you say that about yourself, are you irresponsible, Clara?" He asked, worried that she could think of herself as such.
"Definitely not. I only wanted to change around the furniture in the sitting rooms." Bennet looked at her, amused at her reply.
"Well, why didn't you?"
"I did, but when I came downstairs it had all been put back again and the key to the drawing room is yet to be returned. Although I have told Mrs. Eunice, who I'm turn blames Beatrice." The amusement left his eyes.
"I didn't know it was locked," he said briefly. "But no one goes in there, except, to clean the room."
"Would you object if I used the room?" she asked him directly.
His face was expressionless. "No," he said. "I have no objection."
"Then can you please be kind enough to give Mrs. Eunice or Beatrice some instructions about the key? They pay no attention to me."
But his interest had gone. "You and the staff must settle these matters between yourselves, you are now the mistress of the house, and as such everybody working here is under your command." he said. "I'm not concerned with how you rearrange the rooms as long as you leave my study alone, but if you'll take my advice, Clara, you won't upset Mrs. Eunice."
"I don't want to upset anyone," Clara replied, feeling like she was being reproved unjustly. "But Mrs. Eunice will not try to be agreeable and Beatrice make everything seem difficult, even the simplest things."
"Such as?"
"Almost anything to do with Isabella. It was a favor to be allowed to go for a walk without her, and even at that, we must not go outside the compound, even though we all know how safe Eschial-gardens is."
"Well," He sounded non-committal, but his eyes were grave as he added, "Beatrice may often seem like she's paying attention to minor and even unreasonable things to you, Clara. But always remember that she knows what she's doing. Please can you bear that in mind in the future?"
She would have liked to talk to him about one of the empty rooms she had discovered during one of her room checking adventures. She felt the room might serve as a better choice of school room for Isabella. But he had not encouraged her and seemed not to be in favour of any discussion that might indirectly suggest a disturbance of the present routine of the house.
She began to imagine that the tragedy of Felicia's death must have shook him more than anyone else in the house, that he was indirectly trying to hold on to anything that could remind him of his late wife.
This made her wonder why, he chose her as a wife, she was yet to understand why he didn't marry Bethany long ago. It would have been such a far more suitable arrangement.
At last Bennet got up and stretched. "I will go up and have a word with Beatrice now, then I have some calls to make, before I retire for the night. Hopefully, I'll see you again tonight before I sleep."
"Are you going to say good-night to Isabella?"
"No, I'm not," he replied calmly. "Bidding ourselves goodnight is not something i do with Isabella."
She gave him a surprised look. "But all children like to be tucked in," she said.
"Do they? Then Isabella is probably the exception," he remarked, and went out of the room.
Clara sighed. She could not understand Bennet's attitude toward his daughter. At times he seemed to behave as though Isabella's absurd claim that he disliked her was true. 'Is it that there have never been a closer relationship between them?'
Clara shivered as she sat listening to the rain driving against the windows. She switched on all the lights, then drew the curtains, shutting out the loud endless sound of rain.