Mermaids Singing (7 page)

Kitty soon found out that Nanny Smith was sweet on Bob, the first footman, although romance between the servants was strictly forbidden. If Mr Warner or Mrs Brewster had the slightest suspicion that there was anything going on between them, Nanny would be discharged without a character and Bob would be given a stern talking-to. Kitty knew that Nanny’s evening strolls in Green Park were not unaccompanied. She had watched from the window in the night nursery as Nanny set off along Dover Street towards Piccadilly and, a few moments later, she had seen Bob strolling along in the same direction. If Maria came into the nursery looking for Nanny Smith, Kitty had a string of alibis ready to trip off her tongue. She had no particular liking for Nanny, who seemed determined to keep her firmly in her place, and clearly resented the fact that Lady Mableton favoured her. But Nanny was not spiteful like Olive and Dora, nor was she cockney-smart like Maria, who had a mouth on her that reminded Kitty of Maggie when she was riled.

Conversations between Kitty and Nanny Smith were usually one-sided, with Nanny giving instructions and Kitty carrying them out to the best of her ability. Occasionally, in the evening after supper, when Miss Leonie was safely tucked in her cot and the nursery was clean and tidy, they would sit by the fire drinking tea and Nanny Smith would tell Kitty about her childhood on a farm in rural Essex. Life on a small farm didn’t sound much easier than the back-breaking hours Kitty had spent scavenging in the stinking detritus, washed up by the Thames, but Nanny’s brown eyes misted with tears when she spoke of her younger brothers and sisters. This was something that Kitty understood only too well.

She missed Maggie and the little ones more than she would have thought possible but, even though the memory of Sid’s assault was fading into the realms of a bad dream, Kitty knew she could never return to Sugar Yard. Sometimes, when she awakened in the cold, dark hours before dawn, Kitty lay in bed worrying how Maggie would be coping without her. There would be no one to cuddle little Violet when she woke up, scared by a bad dream. If Maggie was busy feeding baby Harry, who would put arnica on Billy’s eye when he’d come off worst, fighting the Blacker boys? If Maggie had another baby, an event that happened regular as clockwork every year, there would be no one to help wean Harry onto sops of bread and milk. Kitty had worked out in her mind that it was not Maggie’s fault that she had sent her away. Maggie had done it for her own good, because Maggie loved her in spite of everything. It was Sid who was to blame for all the bad things that had happened to her; he had shamed, hurt and humiliated her and, for the first time in her life, Kitty knew what it was like to really hate someone.

‘You look peaky today, Kitty. Are you feeling quite well?’ Lady Mableton studied Kitty’s face with a frown puckering her smooth forehead.

Kitty bobbed a curtsey. ‘Yes, my lady, thank you.’ Leonie was tugging at her hand, demanding to be released but Kitty held on, knowing that she would make straight for the box of chocolates that lay open on the drum table, beside a bowl full of jewel-bright chrysanthemums.

‘It’s all right, Kitty. Leonie won’t be happy until she’s found the violet creams, will you, Angel?’ Lady Mableton went to the table and picked up the satin-covered box, laughing as Leonie scampered towards her and plunged her chubby fingers into the chocolates.

Kitty shifted from one foot to the other as she waited to be dismissed. Miss Leonie was all dressed up in her outdoor clothes, ready for the promised carriage drive to Hyde Park. Maria had laid her mistress’s fashionable Persian lamb jacket and matching muff on the back of the chaise longue and she stood silently, with her arms folded across her chest, waiting and tapping her toe. Watching Maria out of the corner of her eye, Kitty wondered for the umpteenth time how she managed to get away with such behaviour. But Lady Mableton didn’t seem to care, or even notice, and she allowed Leonie to stuff several chocolates into her mouth before she put the box out of reach.

‘You spoil that child,’ Maria said, snatching up the fur coat.

‘I want her to grow up knowing that she’s loved. I want her to have everything that I didn’t.’

‘So you keep saying,’ Maria said, turning away, sniffing.

Leonie dribbled chocolate and, realising that the trickle would soon become a stream and flood down the front of Leonie’s sky-blue velvet coat, Kitty leapt forward to wipe her mouth on a clean hankie.

‘Greedy baby!’ Lady Mableton said, laughing. ‘But I do hope she won’t be sick in the carriage. You must come with us, Kitty. The fresh air will bring the roses back to your cheeks.’

Kitty glanced nervously at Maria. ‘It’s not my place, my lady. Shall I fetch Nanny Smith?’

‘Certainly not! I want you to accompany us today. I decide what is right and proper in my own household,’ Lady Mableton said, tossing her head. ‘And I saw that look, Maria. Don’t browbeat the girl. I’ll take her with me if I want, never mind what Nanny Smith says, and you may have the morning off to do your Christmas shopping or whatever you wish.’

‘Have it your own way,’ Maria said, shrugging.

‘Get your coat and hat, Kitty,’ Lady Mableton said, picking up her muff. ‘It’s cold and frosty out of doors and maybe the Serpentine will be frozen over.’

Downstairs in the hall, Miss Iris seemed to be arguing with Warner and, as they approached, she shot a withering look at her stepmother. ‘I wanted the carriage this morning, Arabella, but Warner says that you are going out.’

‘I’m taking Leonie for a drive in the park,’ said Lady Mableton, smiling sweetly. ‘We’ll be back in time for luncheon and you may have the carriage all afternoon, if you wish.’

‘That is so unfair,’ Iris said, stamping her foot. ‘I have an invitation to luncheon at Brown’s Hotel.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Iris! It’s just down the street, you could walk there in two minutes.’

Iris’s eyes sparked, making her look like an angry cat and, Kitty thought, if she had fur it would be sticking up all over.

‘Arrive on foot like a common shop girl? What would my friends think of that?’

‘They would probably admire your spirit of independence,’ Lady Mableton said, taking Leonie by the hand. ‘Come along, darling. You too, Kitty.’

Warner stood aside, his expression rigidly controlled but, as Kitty hurried past him, she noticed a small muscle twitching at the corner of his mouth. Bob sprang to open the front door.

‘Surely you’re not taking the nursery maid with you?’ demanded Iris, her voice shaking with outrage.

‘Goodbye, Iris,’ Lady Mableton said, over her shoulder.

‘I’ll tell Father,’ Iris called after her. ‘You’ll have everyone talking about us and laughing.’

But Lady Mableton seemed not to have heard this last remark, or if she had, she chose to ignore Iris’s outburst.

Bob handed her into the carriage and lifted Leonie in after her. He gave Kitty a conspiratorial wink as she climbed in after them. She answered, with the briefest of nods, to confirm that she would cover for Nanny Smith that afternoon and evening. Nanny had been all twitchy and excited for days, confiding in Kitty that her half-day and Bob’s had coincided and they planned to spend it together. As the carriage door closed, Kitty tucked herself into the corner, leaning back against the padded leather squabs, and lifted Leonie onto her knee.

Lady Mableton glanced out of the window at Iris, who was standing on the top step with a martyred look on her face and shivering exaggeratedly. Bob gave the coachman the signal to move forward and Lady Mableton turned to Kitty with a rueful smile. ‘My stepdaughter disapproves of me.’

‘No, my lady, that’s not possible. I think you’re lovely.’

Lady Mableton laughed, but it was not a happy sound. ‘You’ll learn as you grow older, Kitty, that sometimes having a pretty face is a curse rather than a blessing.’

‘I don’t understand, my lady.’

‘I think you do. I saw it in your eyes when you first came to Dover Street, that sad look of lost innocence. I knew then that we had much in common. One day you’ll grow into a beauty, my dear, and you’ll discover that men fall in love with their eyes.’ Lady Mableton sighed and turned her head to gaze out of the window.

Kitty tried to puzzle this out as the carriage sped smartly along Piccadilly in the direction of Hyde Park. The suggestion that she had anything in common with such a goddess was startling, shocking and totally inexplicable. How could anyone as beautiful, kind and rich as Lady Mableton not be happy?

Leonie, who up to this moment had been sitting quietly on Kitty’s lap, began to wriggle and tug at her bonnet strings. It took all Kitty’s patience and ingenuity to keep her amused until they reached the gates of the park, giving her little time to enjoy the sheer luxury of travelling in a private carriage. But she filed the experience away in her mind, intending to put it all in the letter to Jem that she had been writing, just a line or two each night before she went to sleep.

The carriage came to a halt by the bandstand and, almost before it had stopped, the groom had leapt off the dickey seat, opened the door and let down the steps. Getting out last, Kitty looked around in awed delight. The pale winter sun reflected off the glassy surface of the Serpentine and the wine-cold air had a smoky smell. This was the first time she had ever been to Hyde Park and Kitty had never seen so many trees or so much grass in her whole life. It was, she thought, just like being in the country.

Lady Mableton instructed the coachman to walk the horses and they set off on foot. The park was filled with nannies pushing their charges in perambulators or sitting on benches, chatting and keeping an eye on the older children as they raced around or played ball on the frosty grass. Leonie trotted after her mama with Kitty following close behind them, but she could not help noticing that their presence was causing something of a stir amongst the nannies. Heads turned to stare at Lady Mableton, which did not surprise Kitty, seeing that her mistress was the most elegant figure in the park, but she was uncomfortably aware that there was an undercurrent of whispers and giggling. She walked past them with her head held high, balling her hands into fists at her sides and resisting the temptation to slap their silly faces. Lady Mableton, however, appeared not to notice. She walked ahead at a brisk pace, taking the path that curved around the end of the lake, leading to the rose garden where the last of the frostbitten blooms sparkled like drops of blood amongst the thorns. When they reached Rotten Row, where the rich and powerful exercised their fine horses, Lady Mableton stopped and waited for Kitty and Leonie to catch up with her.

‘You’d better hold Leonie’s hand, Kitty. I don’t want her to run in front of the horses.’

Kitty obeyed instantly, despite Leonie’s loud protests.

‘It’s too cold to walk much further,’ Lady Mableton said, tucking her hands deeper into her muff. ‘We’ll walk back to the Serpentine Road and meet the carriage there.’

They had barely gone more than a few paces when two gentlemen approaching them on horseback drew their mounts to a halt beside them. Instantly on her guard, Kitty didn’t like the way the younger man, with flashing, dark eyes, was smiling at her ladyship, as if he wanted to gobble her up in great big mouthfuls.

‘My dear Bella,’ he said, doffing his top hat, ‘what a wonderful surprise.’

Lady Mableton backed away from the prancing stallion, the colour draining from her cheeks, and a look of alarm on her face. Kitty knew instantly that her distress could not be simply due to fear of the flailing hooves. She felt a stab of pride as her ladyship drew herself proudly upright.

‘I don’t know you, Sir.’

‘Come now, my dear. You know that’s not true.’

‘I’d say her ladyship has a conveniently short memory, Rackham,’ said his companion, urging his horse to circle around them.

‘I heard that you’d snared a baronet,’ said Rackham, his blackberry-dark eyes twinkling. ‘You’ve deprived us all of your talents, Bella. That wasn’t fair and we’re most upset.’

‘You’ve had your joke at my expense, Sir. Now please let us pass.’ Lady Mableton’s voice shook, but she gave him back stare for stare, raising her chin with a defiant toss of her head.

Rackham leaned towards her, caressing Lady Mableton’s face with the tip of his finger, outlining her cheek and the angle of her jaw, his smile fading, his voice sounding almost sad. ‘You’re even more beautiful than you were three years ago; I wouldn’t have thought it possible.’

‘Leave her alone, Giles,’ his companion said in a bored voice. ‘Can’t you see she don’t want to play? Let’s get on with our ride.’

‘Let me pass,’ Lady Mableton said, her voice rising shrilly as Leonie began to cry.

‘Running away again, Bella?’

Whether by chance, or urged on by his rider, Rackham’s horse moved sideways, pushing Lady Mableton so that she staggered against Kitty. Anxiety bubbled into rage and, scooping Leonie off the ground, Kitty thrust her into her mother’s arms.

‘Leave her alone, you bloody bullies,’ Kitty screamed, throwing herself between the horses, slapping each of them on the rump.

The startled animals reared on their hind legs, whinnying and lunging, almost unseating their riders. Kitty would have gone down beneath their flailing hooves if Lady Mableton had not grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and dragged her to safety.

‘That was brave but foolish, Kitty,’ Lady Mableton said, peering anxiously into her face. ‘Are you all right?’

Kitty nodded; her teeth were chattering too much to allow her to speak.

‘Come then,’ Lady Mableton said, hoisting Leonie onto her hip and taking Kitty by the hand. ‘Leave them to their own stupidity.’

The carriage was waiting in the Serpentine Road. It was not until they were all safely inside, and on their way back to Dover Street, that Kitty was able to speak.

‘Who was them men, my lady?’

Lady Mableton’s lovely mouth drooped at the corners. ‘Part of my past, Kitty, another life best forgotten.’

‘You’re late,’ Nanny Smith snapped, casting a meaningful look at the clock on the nursery wall. ‘You knew it’s my half-day off and I should have been gone an hour since.’