Daughters of Fortune: A Novel

by Hyland, Tara

  3

  _________

  “Miss?” The chauffeur glanced in the rearview mirror. The girl was lost in a daydream, staring blankly out of the tinted car window as she had for the past three hours, during the long drive west from London to Somerset. Of course now they were off the motorway, the scenery had improved. But even as the Bentley sped past lush green fields dotted with fat sheep and grazing cows, the English countryside at its best, Perkins had a feeling that the view was the last thing on his charge’s mind. Hunched up by the door, chin buried in her hand, she looked very young and very sad, her gray mood at odds with the bright summer’s day outside. He almost felt bad disturbing her.

  “Miss?” he said again, more loudly this time.

  She started at his voice, automatically turning dull eyes toward him.

  “Hope I’m not bothering you, Miss Caitlin,” he said gently. “But I thought you’d want to know that we’ll be arriving at Aldringham soon.”

  “Thank you,” she said, polite but listless, then resumed looking out of the window before he could try to engage her in any further conversation. She hoped he didn’t think she was rude, but she couldn’t care less about reaching the Melvilles’ estate. She didn’t care about any of it. How could she, when the only reason she was here in the first place was because of what had happened to her mam? She felt her eyes filling with tears and impatiently brushed them away. She’d promised herself earlier that she wouldn’t cry again. Not until she was alone, at any rate.

  It was six weeks since her mother’s funeral. Everyone had told her that it would get easier after that. What did they know? The previous evening, she’d gone to pack up the cottage. Under William’s instructions, it was to be sold as soon as possible. Going through her Mam’s belongings had stirred up so many memories. When she hadn’t been able to face it any longer, Nuala had offered to take over. “I’ll know what she’d have wanted you to keep,” the older woman had said kindly.

  However, if Caitlin had thought that was bad, it couldn’t compare to today: to leaving Valleymount. Róisín hadn’t understood why her friend wasn’t more excited about embarking on her glamorous new life with a wealthy family. But for Caitlin, saying good-bye to all the places and people she knew was like losing the last connection to her mother. The flight—her first; the seat in business class; being met at Heathrow by the Melvilles’ driver with the sleek black car . . . All these luxuries meant nothing given the circumstances. No wonder she didn’t feel like making small talk.

  They drove on in silence for a while longer, through small towns and picture postcard villages and onto a series of increasingly winding lanes bordered by pretty stone cottages, until Perkins finally pointed into the distance.

  “That’s where we’re ’eaded.”

  Out of courtesy rather than any real interest, Caitlin leaned forward to get a glimpse of her new home. But then, as it came into view, she let out an involuntary gasp. To Caitlin, Aldringham looked like a Roman palace. It was a more accurate description than she realized. In fact, it was a Palladian mansion, typical of the lavish countryside estates built during the eighteenth century, when the newly excavated ruins at Pompeii fostered a neoclassical revival in England. Perkins saw her reaction and grinned. “Impressive, ain’t it?”

  Imposing, more like. Set on the crest of a hillside, it seemed to dominate the surroundings for miles. Late afternoon sunshine glinted off the white Portland stone and marble façade, blinding Caitlin for a moment. She blinked, trying to focus her vision. She couldn’t decide if she liked the building or not. On the one hand, it was undeniably beautiful. The vertical lines and symmetry of the architecture gave the house a feeling of grace and elegance. But there was also something cold about the strict geometric design, as though nothing out of the ordinary would be tolerated.

  Five minutes later, Perkins turned onto a private road that led up to the entrance to Aldringham. Electronic gates swung soundlessly open, and the Bentley pulled into the sweeping carriage driveway. Great cedars lined the roadway. Through their leafy branches, Caitlin caught a brief glimpse of the grounds: fifty acres of untamed parkland rising to meet formal, manicured gardens leading up to the back of the house. A moment later, the landscape passed out of sight again and the car finally came to a stop.

  Up until that point, Caitlin hadn’t given much thought to what her new situation would be like; she’d been too preoccupied with her grief. But suddenly, for the first time, she felt a shiver of trepidation run through her. However bad everything had been over the past few months, at least then she had been surrounded by friends, people like Nuala who cared. Now, she was going to live in a house full of strangers, who probably didn’t even want her there. Trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach, she got out of the car.

  William stood on the north front waiting to greet her. He looked just as intimidating as she remembered. Growing up, whenever she’d imagined what her father would be like, she’d always thought of someone like Róisín’s dad—a simple, kind man, someone familiar. William Melville was nothing like that. He was distant and aloof, with his upper-class accent and stiff manner. Caitlin still found it hard to believe they were related.

  She stood awkwardly as he bent to kiss her on each cheek. “Welcome to Aldringham, Caitlin.” He turned to a well-kept woman who hovered a little way behind him. In an expensive-looking cream suit, her fair hair pulled neatly back in a French twist, she looked terribly elegant. “This is my wife, Isabelle.”

  Caitlin felt a fresh set of nerves ripple through her. But, while she had been expecting a hostile greeting, Isabelle surprised her. Without any prompting, she walked forward and embraced Caitlin.

  “We’re so pleased to have you here, my dear.” Her tone was soft and surprisingly sincere.

  “Good,” William said, clearly pleased by the display. “Let’s go inside. My daughters are waiting to meet you.”

  The hallway was every bit as magnificent as Caitlin had imagined, with a flagstone floor, oak-paneled walls, and a grand staircase that disappeared up into the rest of the house. She had no time to take it in, though, as William whisked her through a labyrinth of long, dark corridors. She tried to memorize her way back to the main hall but eventually gave up.

  Caitlin couldn’t help wondering what Elizabeth and Amber would be like. Growing up, she’d always wanted brothers and sisters, but she wasn’t sure she would have anything in common with girls who had been brought up in a place like this. As William pushed open the drawing room’s heavy mahogany doors, Caitlin plastered on a friendly smile and hoped she was about to be proved wrong. She wasn’t. Two resentful faces greeted her.

  “This is Elizabeth.” William indicated a haughty blonde, sitting straight-backed on a velvet chaise longue.

  Caitlin felt at once intimidated and envious. She couldn’t believe Elizabeth was only seventeen, just two years older than she was. She looked so sophisticated. Even in her tennis outfit, following a grueling afternoon on the court, she looked immaculate, not a hair out of place. Caitlin suddenly felt ashamed of her own slightly shabby appearance, her hand instinctively reaching up to smooth down her unruly thick locks.

  “Hi, Elizabeth.” She gave a tentative smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Elizabeth smiled coolly up at her. “So nice to meet you, too.” There was the faintest hint of sarcasm in the clipped upper-class tone.

  Caitlin’s smile wavered. Elizabeth made no move to say anything else. She continued to stare up from her seat, flicking her long, fair hair back in a dismissive gesture.

  Amber was another matter altogether. While Elizabeth seemed hostile, Amber clearly had no interest in the new arrival. As soon as she’d said hello, she asked to be excused.

  Isabelle shot an apologetic look at Caitlin. “No, of course you can’t go yet,” she said, clearly embarrassed. “Caitlin’s only just gotten here.”

  Amber scowled in answer. Caitlin couldn’t believe it. Mam would never have allowed her to be so rude at that a
ge. But then Amber was like no eleven-year-old she’d ever met. She was a beautiful little girl, her porcelain skin and pretty white blonde ringlets making her seem almost cherubic. But her natural beauty had been spoiled by the way she’d been done up—to look like an adult. Her off-the-shoulder sundress looked out of place on her prepubescent body, as did the hot pink lipstick and blue eye shadow. The whole effect was grotesque and unsettling.

  There was a long silence. Caitlin studied the floor. William looked at all three girls in turn, frowning as though he couldn’t quite understand why they weren’t bonding immediately. It was Isabelle who jumped in to cover the awkwardness.

  “Why don’t I pour everyone some tea? Caitlin, you must be hungry after your journey. Can I get the cook to fix you a snack?”

  Caitlin, who had lost her appetite during the uncomfortable introductions, said she really wasn’t hungry but did accept a cup of tea in a ridiculously fragile cup. As she sipped it carefully, terrified she might spill something on the expensive-looking rug, she wondered if this was going to get any easier.

  It didn’t. Caitlin couldn’t help feeling relieved when, half an hour later, William finally suggested she go to her room to unpack.

  “That will give you a chance to settle in before dinner,” he said. His gaze landed on Elizabeth, who was already on her feet. “Why don’t you show your sister to her room? She’s going to be in the Rose Suite. And perhaps you could give her a quick tour of the estate as well, so she can get her bearings.”

  For a horrible moment, Caitlin thought that Elizabeth was going to object—but a look from William silenced her.

  “Fine.” Sharp green eyes flicked onto Caitlin. “Well? Are you coming?”

  Caitlin had to run to keep up with Elizabeth, as the older girl hurried her along another maze of corridors and then up two flights of stairs. These were a different set from the sweeping staircase in the hallway. Steep and covered in a dark blue carpet—“the staff staircase,” Elizabeth explained briefly. We’re only using it because it’s the quickest way to the East Wing, where your room is.” Other than that, she didn’t venture any small talk along the way.

  They finally reached a cream door. Elizabeth stopped outside and handed Caitlin the key. It was almost like being in a hotel.

  “I’m sure you’re exhausted, so why don’t we skip the tour?” She didn’t give Caitlin a chance to reply. “Dinner’s at seven-thirty. Oh, and whatever you do, don’t be late. It’s the one thing that pisses Daddy off.”

  She turned away, with a toss of glorious honey hair, leaving Caitlin standing alone in the hallway.

  As Caitlin watched her go, tears welled in her eyes. She hadn’t thought she could feel any worse than she had these past few months. But being treated like that, with such utter disdain, made it all so much worse. In that moment, she’d never wanted her mother more.

  Shoulders hunched, she unlocked the door to her new room. It was beautiful, of course—huge and luxurious. But Caitlin had no interest in the antique furniture or the breathtaking view across the gardens and parklands. Instead, she went to lie down on the four-poster bed, curled up into a ball, and cried.

  “She’s so weird.”

  “Amber!” Elizabeth’s reproach was only half-hearted.

  “But she is weird,” Amber insisted. “I mean, did you see that cardigan she was wearing? And those jeans. They were so shapeless. Definitely not Levis.” She wrinkled her nose. “God, I wouldn’t be caught dead looking like that.”

  Despite herself, Elizabeth laughed. She didn’t usually like to gossip, considering it beneath her. But even she couldn’t resist discussing the new arrival. That was why she’d allowed Amber to come in to her room despite the earlier incident with the necklace.

  “I know what you mean,” Elizabeth mused. “She could do with a haircut, too.”

  Long hair was all very well if you looked after it. But that tangle of black curls wasn’t doing Caitlin any favors. Not that she was unattractive. In fact, she was quite pretty, Elizabeth admitted grudgingly, in that very wild, Celtic way. It was just hard to tell when she did so little with herself.

  Amber leaned across the bed. “You know,” she stage whispered, “I think she might be a bit slow, too.”

  Elizabeth laughed again. “Why on earth do you say that?”

  “Because she was so quiet. She hardly said a word.”

  Elizabeth considered this for a moment. “She’s probably just still upset about her mother.” As she vocalized the thought, Elizabeth felt a sudden pang of guilt about the way she’d treated Caitlin so far. But she quickly quashed it. “Not that it’s got anything to do with us,” she added hastily.

  Amber nodded solemnly. “That’s right,” she parroted. “It’s got nothing to do with us.”

  Looking back later, Caitlin wasn’t sure how she got through that first month at Aldringham.

  William disappeared the morning after she arrived. “He had to return to London,” Isabelle informed her apologetically over breakfast. “Some emergency at the office. But I’m sure he’ll be back when he can.”

  The last part was said unconvincingly. So much for wanting to get to know me, Caitlin thought, wondering why on earth he’d been so insistent about her coming to live with them. Maybe if he wasn’t that bothered about her being here, then he might let her go back home to Valleymount. But even as she let the hope enter her head, she somehow knew it was too much to wish for. For whatever reason, William wanted her here. She knew if Nuala could have changed his mind, she would have.

  Later that morning, Elizabeth came to her room. She was clearly under instructions from her father to entertain their guest, and just as clearly not happy about the situation. “So what do you want to do today?”

  Caitlin said, quite honestly, that she didn’t care.

  Elizabeth sighed. It obviously wasn’t the answer she’d been after. “Well, do you ride?” she asked impatiently.

  Caitlin shook her head.

  “Play tennis?”

  Again, Caitlin shook her head.

  “Great,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath. “Fine. Well, I guess I’ll have to teach you, then.”

  Predictably, it was a disaster. After an hour of Elizabeth’s ill-tempered coaching, a red-faced and breathless Caitlin suggested going in. Elizabeth readily agreed. After that, Caitlin didn’t ask for any more lessons, and Elizabeth didn’t offer. They were just so different. Caitlin frankly found Elizabeth’s effortless confidence intimidating.

  Surprisingly, it was Isabelle who was most kind to her.

  “Do you want to call that lady you were staying with?” she offered a few days after Caitlin arrived. “Your mother’s friend—what was her name?”

  “Nuala. Aunty Nuala.”

  “Yes, of course. Nuala. Well, you know you can call Nuala whenever you want,” Isabelle said kindly. “You don’t need to ask permission. There’s a phone in your room, so you can have some privacy.”

  Caitlin decided to wait until the evening, when the family were more likely to be home. For the first time since she’d arrived at Aldringham, there was something to look forward to.

  When she heard Nuala’s voice, she felt herself start to choke up.

  “Ah, it’s so good to speak to you, pet,” her mother’s friend said warmly.

  “You, too,” Caitlin sniffed. She didn’t trust herself to say anything else in case she started crying. She felt overwhelmed and embarrassed at the intensity of her emotions—after all, she hadn’t even been away a week.

  “Róisín’s here,” Nuala said, seeming to sense that she was just about to break down. “Why don’t I put her on?”

  Talking to her friend was easier. “What’s the house like?” she wanted to know. “Is it huge? Does it have a pool? When can I come to stay?”

  “The house is nice,” Caitlin said vaguely, not wanting to talk about it. “Tell me what’s been going on with you instead.”

  Róisín needed no further encouragement. “Ah, everything’
s much the same here. Mary’s got herself a bloke, and her mam’s having fits about it . . .” She chattered on happily for the next half an hour, until she was called away for her tea.

  “Ring me again soon!” she said breezily.

  Caitlin slowly replaced the receiver. The conversation had made her feel worse rather than better. It was horrible, knowing that all her friends were back in Valleymount and that she couldn’t be there with them.

  To Caitlin’s relief, Isabelle tactfully avoided asking her about the call. She could be quite sensitive, Caitlin realized during those first few weeks. In fact, she wondered sometimes if Isabelle was as unhappy as she was at Aldringham. With William away so much, his wife filled her days lunching with friends or doing charity work. She also spent a great deal of time shopping with Amber in London. More than once she invited Caitlin along. “We’d love you to come with us,” she said, ignoring the face that Amber made. “And you must need a few new things before school starts.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Amber muttered under her breath.

  But so far, despite Isabelle’s repeated invitations, Caitlin hadn’t felt like going with them. Even though she was aware that her clothes were far cheaper and less trendy than those of the other two girls, it would seem somehow disloyal to replace her old things. Her mother had worked so hard to pay for them—it would be like a betrayal.

  Apart from that, the family had pretty much left Caitlin to her own devices. It was still summer vacation, and so she had endless hours to explore the house and grounds and to indulge in her favorite pastimes of reading and sketching.

  But she wasn’t happy. She missed her mother and Valleymount every day. Aldringham was beautiful but cold, like its inhabitants. Her room might have a walk-in closet, separate sitting room, and luxurious marble bathroom, but every night Caitlin climbed into the four-poster bed, with its high threadcount sheets and goosefeather pillows, and then lay awake, longing for the simplicity of her old life and her real home.