Chapter One
1814, England
Starvation gnawed at their bellies. They had not eaten in almost two days and their aunt sat at her over decorated dining table taking bite after bite of the delicious spread set before her.
“Right this way,” the butler said leading the two girls from the foyer and into the drawing room. He closed the doors behind him. Victoria was thankful. She did not wish to watch her glutinous aunt gorge herself as she and little Margaret's tummies rumbled.
“I'm scared Tory. Are you scared?”
Scared? Their mother had just passed away and their father had committed suicide soon after, leaving them all alone. Victoria had been forced to sell everything she owned including, the house that had been in her family for generations, to pay her father's debts. Knowing that she would not be able to support her sister, they had no choice but to move to London where their only living relative resided. Aunt Nelly was a hateful woman and Victoria had no doubt that she would try to take her sister from her. Scared?
Scared was not a fitting word, terrified seemed to match her emotions perfectly. But she managed to bring a smile to her lips for her sister's sake. She would not allow Margaret to see her worry.
The poor girl needed comfort.
“Scared? We have nothing to be scared of.”
“Aunt Nelly never liked mother,” Margaret stated, her eyes down cast and focused on the Persian rug. Her fingers gripped the wooden arms of her chair tightly.
Victoria's heart ached for her little sister. The girl had been the one to discover their father's body in his study. She had screamed and ran through the house hysterically, then locked herself in her room. For two days she refused to see anyone or eat a morsel and now, three weeks later, she was beginning to speak again.
“And,” Margaret paused, shuffling her feet nervously, “she doesn't like you very much.”
Nelly had no warm feelings toward her and she had loathed their mother. She had accused their mother of stealing her brother's life by becoming with child.
“Do you think she will turn us out?”
Victoria turned to the large windows. Thick gray clouds hovered ominously over the city, threatening to unleash a fury of rain.
“No my dear, she won't,” she said, her breath fogging the cold glass. “Everything will be all right. You'll see.” She prayed with all her might that it would be for Margaret's sake.
Victoria leaned against the glass, lightning flashed; thunder shook the window and rain began to pour. The Kingston girls anxiously waited, the rumbling of their hungry tummies sliced through the thick silence that filled the dark room while Aunt Nelly finished her extravagant meal. Victoria took deep steady breaths as she mentally prepared herself for a verbal attack.
The girls did not have to wait long. Aunt Nelly swept into the drawing room with a cool wind following her, Victoria shivered. She turned and met Nelly's brown beady eyes; the battle was about to begin. The old woman's thick lips were puckered and her brow was wrinkled in an ugly frown. Margaret stood and timidly straightened her dress.
“Stop fidgeting,” Nelly snapped. “And stand up straight.
You’re a young lady, not an urchin from the streets.”
Margaret nodded her head meekly. Victoria came to stand by her sister and placed a comforting hand on the girl's slender shoulder.
“Don't coddle her,” the old bitter woman snarled. “She needs to toughen up. The world is harsh and she should learn to face it.”
“She knows all too well the cruelties of the world. For the last four months she has watched her mother slowly die from sickness. As if that were not torture enough, she found her father's body.”
“Don't pity her. She must grow up. She is not a child.”
“She is only eight years old,” Victoria argued.
“I do not enjoy being talked back to, it is insulting,” she said harshly, stomping her foot, her face the brightest of reds.
2
Margaret hugged her sister's arm, her tiny nails digging into her flesh. Victoria wiggled her fingers while the tingling from loss of circulation began to settle in.
“Margaret, I would like to get you settled in. Follow the nice maid to your room. I need to speak with your sister alone.”
The maid ripped Margaret away from Victoria and dragged her out of the room and up the stairs. Victoria watched, her anger simmering. Aunt Nelly sat in Margaret’s vacant chair and fixed her evil eyes on her oldest niece.
“You look exactly like your mother,” she spat.
Men and women alike had praised her mother's beauty and Victoria had loved to be compared to her, but Aunt Nelly had loathed her sister-in-law and her good looks. Therefore, compliment was no compliment at all, but a grave insult.