Kitty’s cheeks were burning. ‘That’s as maybe. But even so it would mean I would have to wear them in front of you, and that doesn’t seem right.’
He pulled her into his arms again, his expression hurt. ‘But surely you understand that in my job I’ve photographed dozens of women modelling lingerie. Don’t you trust me, darling?’
‘Of course I do,’ she said doubtfully, but then he was kissing her again and it was so hard to think straight. He could awaken feelings in her that she had never known before and she had no idea how to handle them.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘how about you try this on for me. They’re the very latest thing, so I’m told.’
Kitty stared down at the corset in his hand and blushed an even deeper shade of red, if that were possible. Sunday had always told her that it wasn’t seemly to discuss ladies’ undergarments in front of gentlemen – and here was Richard asking her to parade in front of him in them! He was holding up one of the new-style corsets that were becoming popular. Ladies’ fashions were changing rapidly, Kitty knew, and this particular corset was much more comfortable to wear, or so she had been told, than the heavily boned ones that had been favoured previously. It was made of a very fine woollen material with legs that she imagined would reach down to just above the knee, where they were trimmed with lace. The neckline was also trimmed with lace and Kitty chewed on her lip as she imagined posing for the camera while wearing this garment.
‘I’m not sure that I’d feel comfortable,’ she murmured doubtfully and for the first time since she had known him Richard sneered as he stepped away from her.
‘In that case I really can’t see you being able to pursue your career as a model,’ he said harshly. ‘Models can’t afford to be prudes. They must model whatever they are asked to wear and if you can’t do that …’
Kitty’s eyes were anguished as she caught at his sleeve. ‘But I’m not a prude,’ she said with a sob in her voice. ‘It’s just that I’ve never done anything like this before.’
He shrugged her hand away and crossed to his camera where he started to fiddle with the lens. ‘Then that’s a shame,’ he said carelessly. ‘There’s a lot of money to be made from modelling – even more than you could earn singing, but if that’s how you feel …’
‘Perhaps I could just try it on,’ she gushed, terrified of losing him and again he shrugged.
‘Only if you want to. Never let it be said that I forced anyone to do anything they didn’t wish to.’
Without a word, Kitty snatched the corset up and hurried off behind the screen where she fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. Her heart was pounding so hard that she was sure Richard must be able to hear it and she was all fingers and thumbs. At last she managed to get the corset on. It was a very good fit but she felt very embarrassed. No other man had ever seen her dressed – or rather, undressed – like this before, but her fear of losing Richard was greater than her self-respect, so she stepped from behind the screen with her arms folded across her chest.
Suddenly Richard was all smiles again as he advanced on her. ‘Why, you look absolutely beautiful, darling,’ he told her warmly. ‘You have a lovely body so I really can’t see why you should worry about showing it off.’
He gently unfolded her arms as she stared at him adoringly.
‘Now, let’s just make a few adjustments and then we can get started. We may as well do it now, this afternoon, and then I’ll take you home. How does that sound?’ He slipped the shoulder straps down, to show off her smooth, creamy skin, and tugged the front of the corset lower so that it revealed her cleavage. Her cheeks burned with shame, but she didn’t try to stop him as he led her to the chaise longue and got her to lie across it before disappearing off behind his camera again.
‘Now raise one knee – that’s it, and let your arm dangle … very good. Now look towards the window with your other arm behind your head as if you are just relaxing … perfect. Keep that pose. Hold still … perfect!’
She could hear the camera clicking and after a few minutes of striking different poses she began to relax a little. It wasn’t so bad really, she told herself. It wasn’t as if she was lying there naked, was it?
After an eternity, Richard straightened and smiled at her. ‘Well done.’ He came and sat down beside her, and as his lips found hers she sighed with relief. But then the kisses were aimed at her shoulders and she felt his hand close around her breast and once again she was uneasy. Sensing that she was nervous, he sat up and said, ‘Right, that’s it for today. Now why don’t you get changed and then I’ll drop you off at home. I need to see Ruby anyway.’
Kitty’s emotions were in utter turmoil, but when she was dressed again she began to feel better, and by the time they left the house to climb into his car she was smiling again.
It was mid-afternoon when Richard delivered her back to Brunswick Villa and after helping her from the car he followed her into the house.
‘Right, my sweet. Good luck with your performance this evening, not that you’ll need it.’ He gently patted her bottom. ‘Now I need to go and have a word with your aunt.’ He disappeared off in the direction of the drawing room as Kitty stood there and watched him go.
Maggie was in the hallway, polishing the hall tables. After returning from her visit to Mrs Partridge she had asked what she could do to help since she hated being idle, but although they exchanged greetings, Kitty barely gave her a glance before scuttling away upstairs so Maggie continued with what she was doing. When she reached up to dust the large gilt-framed mirror that hung to one side of the drawing-room doors, she overheard the following conversation. Ruby asked, ‘Well, did she do it?’
Richard laughed. ‘Yes, but it took some persuading, I don’t mind telling you.’
‘Good. It should be easier from here on in then,’ came the reply.
Maggie didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping so she hurried away, but her mind was troubled. Was it Kitty they had been talking about? And if it was, what was it that Richard had persuaded her to do? After returning the polish and the dusters to the kitchen she went upstairs to Kitty’s room, hoping the girl would tell her all about her day and put her mind at rest.
She found Kitty sitting in the window staring pensively down into the garden where Arthur was busy pruning the roses.
‘Had a good day, have you?’ Maggie asked as she entered. Kitty seemed pensive and not her usual cheery self at all.
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘And what things did you model today?’ Maggie was struggling to get the conversation going.
‘Oh, just this and that,’ Kitty answered as a flush rose to her cheeks.
She clearly wasn’t going to be drawn so after a few more lighthearted remarks, Maggie discreetly left the room. It was clear that Kitty needed some time alone. But what could have made her feel that way? Usually after spending time with Richard she chattered away about his many virtues fifteen to the dozen. Feeling more concerned than ever, Maggie left her to it. No doubt Kitty would come and seek her out when she wanted her.
It was after an early dinner that evening as Kitty was about to leave the table to start getting ready for the music hall that Ruby said, ‘I’ve been meaning to have a little talk to you, darling.’
Miss Fox had just left the room and, curious, Kitty asked, ‘What about?’
Reaching into the pocket of her gown Ruby withdrew some tiny sponges and a small bottle of dark brown liquid. ‘Has anyone ever talked to you about err … the birds and the bees?’
Kitty looked confused – then as she realised what Ruby meant, she said haltingly, ‘Yes, Sunday took all the older girls aside and explained to us about the monthly visitor and babies and um … how they were made.’
Ruby looked relieved. ‘Good, then you’ll know that should you be tempted to lie with a man, you could be left carrying his child?’
Wishing that the ground could just open up and swallow her, Kitty nodded numbly.
Ruby placed the bottle and the sponges
on the table between them and said, ‘My dear, you are grown up now. If you should ever feel the urge to make love with a man, these will prevent you from conceiving a child.’ She then went on to explain how they should be used and by the time she was done Kitty was so hot and bothered that she couldn’t even look her in the eye.
‘I’m not saying that you will use them,’ Ruby rushed on, seeing the girl’s discomfort, ‘but just in case you should need them, keep them close at hand. Your life is just beginning and we wouldn’t want an unwanted baby to ruin things for you, would we?’
Like I did, Kitty thought bitterly. But her mother was still talking. ‘An illegitimate child could mean the end of your career. You stand to lose everything, do you understand? So, better safe than sorry, eh? I know how fond you are of Richard and you are only flesh and blood like the rest of us at the end of the day.’ She put the items into Kitty’s hand and closed her fingers around them. ‘Don’t forget, it’s only vinegar in the bottle so it won’t harm you. But there, lecture over. Why don’t you go and get ready now? Max will be here to pick us up in less than an hour and we wouldn’t want to keep your audience waiting, would we?’
‘No.’ Kitty shook her head as she stumbled from the room and quickly closed the door behind her. She could hardly believe what Ruby had just said to her. It was almost as if she was openly encouraging her to lose her virginity, whereas Sunday had always told the girls it was something precious that should only be shared with their husbands on their wedding night. What a complete contrast the two women were.
For the first time in some while, Kitty longed to feel Sunday’s comforting arms about her. Ruby had never so much as hugged her in all the time she had been here, but then Kitty had come to realise that Ruby loved herself too much to have any love left over for anyone else, even her own daughter. On legs that felt as heavy as lead, Kitty went upstairs to help Maggie pack her bag ready for her performance.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Heavy black thunderclouds hung low in a leaden sky as Lavinia sought Cissie out after breakfast one morning to tell her, ‘I have decided to pay a visit to Hatter’s Hall today, dear. Would you care to accompany me?’
Cissie turned alternately red and white in the face as she clutched her throat before croaking, ‘Yes, I think I would. Thank you.’
Lavinia nodded. ‘Good. But I can’t promise anything, mind. It just seems as good a place as any to start the search for your son.’
Sunday and Tom were there and he reached instinctively for his wife’s hand, but as always, she tugged it away then silently cursed herself. Why did she keep doing that? she asked herself, but the damage was done and Tom had moved slightly away from her. She was even more annoyed with him now, could he have known it, because as yet he hadn’t made the time to go to London with her to try and track Kitty down. Admittedly she knew that he was always busy with jobs to do about the place but she was growing impatient and decided that if he didn’t arrange a date with her soon, she would make the journey alone.
‘I’ll get Ben to bring the carriage around to the front in an hour. Will that give you time to get ready, dear?’
‘Yes, thanks,’ Cissie told Lavinia gratefully, suddenly hardly able to contain her excitement, and she scooted away to get dressed in her Sunday best hat and coat.
As the carriage rattled towards Hatter’s Hall, Lavinia squeezed Cissie’s hand.
‘There were times when I thought this day would never dawn,’ Cissie muttered thickly and Lavinia felt her pain. She knew only too well what it was like to lose a child in whatever circumstances, and was prepared to do all she could in her power to help Cissie find her long-lost son. All around them the rain was hammering down and the day was dark and dismal – and yet Cissie felt happier than she had for a very long time.
When the carriage pulled up at the gates of Hatter’s Hall the gatekeeper opened them immediately and allowed them to pass through. Lady Lavinia Huntley was one of the benefactors of the Hall and was allowed entry any time she liked.
‘I think you’ll like Mr Wilkins, the new superintendent,’ Lavinia told Cissie as they rattled down the drive towards the tall imposing building. ‘He’s a far cry from that dreadful Augustus Crackett, who was the superintendent here when you were admitted.’
When the carriage pulled up at the bottom of the steps, Ben jumped down from the driver’s seat and helped the ladies alight. They then climbed the steps and Lavinia rang the large brass bell to one side of the entrance.
‘Why hello, Lady Huntley,’ the little maid who answered the door greeted them. ‘Here to see Mr Wilkins, are you?’
‘Yes I am, if it isn’t inconvenient, dear.’ Lavinia smiled as she peeled off her gloves and the girl bobbed her knee.
‘I’ll just go an’ check if he’s in his office, milady. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.’
With that she darted away as Cissie glanced fearfully around. Just being there brought back dreadful memories.
‘Why, Cissie, you’ve gone as white as a sheet, and you’re trembling. Come and sit down.’ Lavinia’s voice seemed to come from a long way away and Cissie realised that she had broken out in a cold sweat. She plonked down heavily on the nearest chair as Lavinia asked another member of staff to run and fetch her a glass of cold water.
Cissie was sipping at it and trying to stop it from sloshing over the sides of the glass when she saw a rosy-cheeked man and the little maid who had answered the door to them approaching.
‘Lady Huntley, what a pleasant surprise! We weren’t expecting you,’ he said jovially, extending his hand. ‘What can we do for you on this rather dull day?’
Although they hadn’t as yet been introduced Cissie took to the man instantly. He was plump and not overly tall, with a headful of thick, wavy, carrot-coloured hair, and when he smiled his eyes were kindly.
‘I shall get around to that in a moment, Mr Wilkins, but first may I introduce my very dear friend, Mrs Cissie Branning?’
‘I’m very pleased to me meet you, m’dear.’ Mr Wilkins gave Cissie a dazzling smile before shaking her hand so hard she was afraid it might drop off. ‘Now, how about we go into the day room?’ he suggested. ‘I’ve had this room especially adapted for the visitors of the patients. It’s so much nicer for them than having to sit on the wards, and I’d welcome your opinion on it. There have been many other changes too,’ he went on proudly. ‘Many of the treatments for the patients have been stopped, since I considered them to be frankly barbaric. Only the most violent of our patients are restrained now.’
Lady Huntley nodded her approval as he led them into a large, light and airy room that had French doors leading out onto the lawns beyond. ‘Normally some of the patients would be out there enjoying the sunshine but with the weather being so inclement today I’m afraid they’ve been confined indoors,’ he explained as Lady Huntley and Cissie looked around.
Against one wall was a towering bookshelf with a very good selection of books on it, and tables and chairs were dotted here and there with various board games on them. The walls were all painted cream but some rather crude pictures that the inmates had painted added a splash of colour and altogether it was a very pleasant room indeed.
‘I think it’s a wonderful idea,’ Lavinia told him sincerely. ‘And I love the fact that you are encouraging visitors for the inmates now.’
‘I prefer to call them patients,’ he corrected her gently. ‘After all, they are ill, and they are not in prison.’
‘You are quite right. Please forgive me. But now I shall tell you why we have come today.’
As they all took a seat, the little maid brought in tea and biscuits, and the superintendent listened avidly as Lady Huntley told Cissie’s sad tale, as Cissie had asked her to.
‘How disgusting that the person who was there to be in charge of your welfare should abuse you,’ the kindly man said chokily to Cissie when the tale was told, before blowing his nose heartily to hide his emotion. ‘And now you are hoping to try and trace the
child that you gave birth to within these walls?’
‘Yes, please, sir.’ Cissie’s eyes were overly bright, and his heart went out to her. She was a middle-aged woman now but she had been merely a child then. How she must have suffered over the nearly three years she had been incarcerated here under a cruel regime.
‘Then I suggest that as soon as we have finished our tea we go to the office and see if there is anything that might help us in the files,’ he declared, and Cissie nodded eagerly. Soon after, she and Lavinia followed him back along the corridor to his office, which was dominated by a huge desk. Behind it was a tall bank of cupboards which was where all the files were kept.
‘Now, according to what you have told me, you must have been admitted here late in 1880. That’s all of thirty-four years ago, but your details should be here.’ He placed a pair of spectacles on the end of his nose and began to check the dates on each of the cupboard doors. It seemed to take for ever but at last, when he was almost at the end of the wall, he cried triumphantly, ‘Aha! Here we are, Admissions, 1880. And your name was Cissie Burns, you say?’
‘Yes, that’s right, Mr Wilkins.’ Cissie held her breath as he began to flick through a number of dusty folders. At one point he stopped and removed one of the folders.
‘I think this is it. Burns, admitted from the Nuneaton Union Workhouse in November 1880.’ He blew on the folder, sending a cloud of dust into the air, making Cissie realise just how very long ago this had been. Her son would be almost thirty-four years old now, a grown man possibly with a family of his own. She could even be a grandma, for all she knew.
Mr Wilkins began to read the papers, his brow creased with concentration. ‘It says you were a very disruptive inmate who was a threat to yourself and others. It was recommended by the doctor at the time that you should be restrained and that you should regularly undergo water treatment to calm you down.’
The Little Angel Page 25
