No love for Louisa

PROLOGUE (Part 1)

Eliza Shelby was not a woman who was  particularly sympathetic to the orphans that were in her charge. In her mind, being soft with them was not going to help them survive in the cruel unfair world they were born into. After all, she, herself, had managed to navigate a miserable life, in which she was born out of wedlock, with a mother who was too fond of the demon drink and left her daughter to care for them both. But had managed to achieve some sense of respectability. It had left her hardened, and it was this determination and toughness that had pulled her through the dark difficult times. So she was going to instil this into those young minds, knowing they would either go on and have some sort of life, or fall by the wayside, and she felt it was her duty to remind them that there was no room for weakness or sentimentality

Perhaps that was why she felt a certain resentment for the newest addition to the orphanage, eleven year old Miss Louisa O'Mara, who had been brought to her personally by one of the Patrons of the orphanage The honourable Reverend Philips, who seemed to show some sort of favour to the girl because her mother had at one time been a childhood friend of his, and he expected Eliza to treat her differently, because her parentage were well to do.

What the Reverend did not realise, that it was these people which Eliza found herself despising the most, those born of wealth and privilege with everything handed to them on a silver platter, and instead of appreciating what they had, like she would have done, they behaved foolish enough to end up destitute. So she especially had no sympathy for them, or their offspring.

It irked Eliza Shelby further that this little Miss Louisa seemed reluctant to accept her life was no better than all the other orphans in her care, and was somewhat optimistically deluded, still believing after being in the orphanage for over three months, that her Mama would still one day return and take her away

But, a much more world weary Eliza, unlike Louisa, knew there was rarely a happy ending for a young girl in her circumstances. Then a recent letter from the Reverend Williams had proved her feelings on this matter only to be too true, much to her satisfaction.

Which was why her attention was drawn to the thin, fair haired young lady in question, as her grey blue eyes stared wistfully out the window of the classroom, when she should have head her head bent and focusing on darning the sheet as the other girls around her were doing. Eliza now with expertise and almost silent stealth which she had gained over the years made her way to Louisa's desk and using the stick she carried with her, rapped the young girls sharply on the knuckles making her jump in pained startlement, bringing her attention away from the window

"Stand up girl" Eliza then barked sharply. Louisa found herself  quickly obeying, her eyes now wide with alarm and trepidation, realising she had been caught out, seeing the grim annoyance in Eliza's expression aimed at her, she knew she was in for it.

"Do you understand that you are here under the charity of a member of the board of this orphanage, who also expects you to pull your weight, like every other girl here, who are grateful that they have food and a roof over their head and a bed to sleep in?" she demanded sharply

"Y-yes Miss, I am sorry Miss" Louisa hurriedly stammered in reply, lowering her gaze from Eliza's scathing glare which made her uncomfortable, and also because the woman wouldn't see the threatening tears starting to form in her eyes. It didn't help that her knuckles were now also stinging sharply from the unexpected blow of the stick.

"Then perhaps you should show your gratitude by doing the work assigned to you, instead of daydreaming and staring out the window wasting precious hours of daylight" Eliza scolded

"I am grateful, truly I am," Louisa replied in the most earnest tone she could muster under the circumstances, "I didn't mean to be slack, only that I have almost finished darning the hem on my sheet, but the tips of my fingers have lost feeling in them, and my hand ached so from holding the darning needle. I-I couldn't do my stitches quite as good, I just wanted to rest my hand just a little while, so I could finish it properly" she attempted to explain, recalling unhappily how the day before Miss Shelby had not been satisfied with her previous work and had ripped apart all her stitches and had made her start over again. Which was why her fingers were still suffering from being sore and stiff, making it difficult for her.