‘Yes, I can see that,’ Victoria said. ‘She’s wearing a crown and has a lovely dress—’
‘It’s blue,’ a soft voice said behind her.
Victoria turned and caught her breath. Jenny was standing by her shoulder. She was looking down at the drawing and her attention was focused on the picture, as though it was the most important thing in the world. ‘You can’t see that it’s blue,’ she went on, ‘but it is. As blue as the sky. And her crown is gold and has all sparkly
bits in it.’
‘Of course it does,’ Molly said, seeming not in the least surprised by Jenny’s comment. ‘Mrs Hutchins showed me a book with pretty ladies in it. But they didn’t have crowns.’
‘I know, but they did look very nice.’
Refusing to act as though Jenny’s conversation was in any way out of the ordinary, Victoria said, ‘I’ve brought some books with me today that have pictures of pretty ladies in them. And some of them do have crowns.’ They were actually fashion magazines Victoria had picked up for her sister, but she decided the needs of these little girls far outweighed Winifred’s. ‘I’ll leave them with Mrs Hutchins, shall I?’
Molly was intent on her drawing, but her nod was indication that she had heard.
Jenny sat down at the table. Victoria watched her for a while and was relieved to see definite signs of improvement in her appearance. Her hair had been trimmed and no longer hung down into her eyes and her complexion was brighter too. She also looked to have put on some weight, no doubt a result of Mrs Hutchins’s excellent cooking. Any loud noise from the outside still caused her to her flinch, but overall she seemed far more settled in her surroundings. As she flipped through the pages of a book, she looked like a child again rather than the frightened girl/woman she had been when Victoria had first seen her.
* * *
She spent almost an hour with the children. She would have stayed longer, but was all too conscious of the passage of time. The longer she stayed, the greater the risk of running into Alistair. Besides, she still had business to transact with the housekeeper.
‘I have to go and speak to Mrs Hutchins now,’ she told Margaret.
The girl nodded. ‘Will you come and see us again?’
‘I’d like to.’
‘You can come and see us in our new ’ouse,’ Teddy said. ‘The guv’nor says we’re going there soon. I’m going to dig a garden.’
Victoria smiled, hard pressed to think of Alistair as ‘the guv’nor’. ‘Then I shall certainly try to get out and see you.’ She wouldn’t, of course, but the children didn’t need to know that. They had more important matters to concern themselves with. Such as living.
She bid a reluctant goodbye to the girls, gave hugs to those who would allow it and shook hands with those who would not, and then, strangely teary, made her way back downstairs to Mrs Hutchins’s room.
‘Ah, there you are, Miss Bretton,’ the housekeeper said. ‘We’ve been having a nice chat, Angelique and me.’
‘I ’ave been asking Mrs ’utchins about Monsieur Devlin,’ Angelique said, handing Victoria a cup of tea. ‘’E sounds like a very good man.’
‘One of the best as far as I’m concerned,’ Mrs Hutchins asserted. ‘He’s made a world of difference in these children’s lives.’
‘I think you’ve done a great deal yourself, Mrs Hutchins,’ Victoria said. ‘You’re the one who has the responsibility of looking after them day after day.’
‘Aye, but without his generosity, none of this would have been possible. These children would have suffered the same fate as so many others if he hadn’t stepped in. Me, I’d help them all if I could, but there’s only so much one person can do. But Mr Devlin is doing all that and more.’
‘That’s another reason for my visit today, Mrs Hutchins.’ Victoria reached into the hamper Angelique had set on the floor and took out an envelope. ‘I’ll likely be going abroad for a few months, but I wanted to give you this before I left. It’s a donation. For the children. Use it however you think best.’
Mrs Hutchins took the envelope and when she glanced inside, her eyes grew wide. ‘’Pon my word, miss, this is very generous.’
‘I wanted to help. But I’d prefer you not tell Mr Devlin where the money came from.’
‘Not tell him? Why ever not?’
‘I have my reasons. Just say, if he asks, that the money came from an anonymous source.’
Mrs Hutchins glanced at the contents of the envelope again and then at Victoria. ‘I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want him knowing, miss, but I’m not one to pry and all I can say is thank you very much.’
‘You’re welcome. And now, we won’t keep you any longer.’ Victoria finished her tea and stood up. ‘Come along, Angelique, it’s time we went home.’
The ladies said their goodbyes at the door, but it wasn’t until Victoria climbed into the carriage and saw the magazines lying on the seat that she remembered her promise to the girls. ‘Angelique, I have to run back inside. Would you mind giving these to the boys?’ she said, digging in her reticule for some coins. ‘One to Thomas and the other to Teddy.’
The maid took the coins and smiled. ‘I never knew you ’ad such a soft spot for children, mademoiselle. Zey will remember you.’
Victoria sighed as she slipped back into the building. She liked to think the children would remember her, but not because she had given them gifts. It was far more pleasant to think they would remember her for the time she had spent with them.
That was certainly what she would take away from all this. If and when she published her first children’s book, it would be dedicated to them, to Alistair’s orphans, who by their very existence had inspired her to do something different with her life.
Thankfully, the front door was still open, but when Victoria called Mrs Hutchins’s name, there was no answer. No doubt the woman was busy in the kitchen. Victoria decided she might as well take the magazines up herself.
She was halfway up the stairs when the front door opened again. Thinking it was one of the children, she cast a glance over her shoulder—and her heart plummeted. Alistair! The last person she wanted to see.
Unfortunately, judging from the look on his face, she was the last person he had been expecting to. ‘Miss Bretton? What are you doing here?’
There was no warmth in his eyes, no welcome in his voice, and, recalled to a time when there had been both, Victoria felt unutterably sad. ‘I wanted to see how the children were getting on. They’ve been on my mind ever since I was here last.’
‘You could have asked me about their welfare,’ he said. ‘Sent me a note.’
‘I wasn’t sure you would answer. I thought that...by coming here, I would be able to see for myself.’
He nodded and, for a moment, smiled. ‘I might have known you would take matters into your own hands. Even to venturing alone into a part of town no well-bred lady would ever consider visiting.’
‘You know me well, Mr Devlin,’ Victoria said, striving to keep her voice light. ‘But I am not alone. My maid is waiting for me in the carriage.’
His glance fell to the books in her arms. ‘And those?’
‘Magazines, for the girls,’ Victoria said, ‘They like pictures of pretty ladies.’
When he turned to shut the door, Victoria briefly closed her eyes. She hadn’t thought it would be this difficult, carrying on a normal conversation with him, but she had underestimated the power of her love. She wanted nothing more than to fling herself into his arms and to forget everything that had happened. To cast aside propriety and tell him how much she loved him.
But she would not. He would not welcome such an admission. Not from her. Not now.
His head came up again and Victoria held her breath. She wasn’t sure whether to carry on up the stairs or just hand him the magazines and leave. But
all he said was, ‘By all means, go up and give them what you promised. I would not wish them to be disappointed.’
Victoria swallowed hard and continued up the narrow staircase, painfully aware of Alistair following a few steps behind.
The children were much as she left them. Margaret and Molly were both sitting at the table, though Jenny was standing by the window looking out. She turned upon hearing the visitors and her eyes went immediately to the magazines. ‘You remembered!’
‘Of course I remembered,’ Victoria said. ‘I told you I would bring them back.’
‘But you were gone so long. We thought you’d forgotten.’
A wave of guilt washed over Victoria. She hadn’t stopped to consider that to these children, five minutes would seem like an hour. ‘I had a cup of tea with Mrs Hutchins and the time slipped away on me,’ she said. ‘But I wouldn’t have left without bringing the books. Here,’ she said, holding the top one out to Jenny, ‘this one has some very pretty ladies in it.’
‘Are there any princesses?’ Molly asked.
‘I don’t think so, but there are a few ladies wearing crowns.’
The little girl thought about that for a moment, then nodded, as though satisfied with the answer.
Victoria was very aware of Alistair standing behind her as she placed the magazines on the table. The girls, accepting her now as someone they could trust, gathered around and pushed close in an effort to see the pictures. Victoria felt the softness of Jenny’s breath on her hand and had the strongest urge to draw the girl close and smooth her hand over the softness of her hair. To let her know that someone cared...
‘Go ahead,’ Alistair said softly. ‘I don’t think she’ll pull away.’
Victoria turned, and as their eyes met over the girls’ heads she felt her heart shatter like glass. She loved him so much—and he would never be hers. She would never know what it was to feel the gentle caress of his hands in the dark, or the softness of his kisses against her neck. She would never hear those sweet, sweet whispers in the night, or turn to him for warmth and comfort.
She glanced at the little girl standing so close to her and realised she might never have a daughter of her own. She would certainly never have a child of his...and the realisation made her want to weep.
She turned her head away and squeezed her eyes shut, praying the tears wouldn’t slip through. For everyone’s sake, she had to be strong. She had to get through the next few minutes and then leave, knowing she would never see Alistair or the children again. Just a few more minutes and it would all be over—
‘Why did you really come back?’ he whispered close to her ear. ‘I thought I’d never see you again.’
The words shattered her resolve, the softness of his voice almost her undoing. But she couldn’t tell him the truth. She couldn’t admit that the reason she had come back was to be close, one last time, to something that was so very important to him. How foolish that would sound to a man like Alistair Devlin.
Instead, she drew a deep breath, mustered a smile and said, ‘I told you, I wanted to know that the children were all right, and to see with my own eyes that they were happy.’ She bent down to pick up a magazine that had fallen to the floor, using the opportunity to dash tears from her eyes. ‘I hear they will be going to their new home next month.’
‘Did they tell you that?’
‘No, Mrs Hutchins. We had a very pleasant chat.’
‘No doubt she was surprised to see you.’
‘I believe she was.’ Victoria straightened. ‘Well, I think it’s time I was on my way.’
‘I’ll walk you to your carriage.’
‘There is no need—’
‘I said, I’ll walk you to your carriage.’
Their eyes met again, and this time Victoria didn’t look away. She wanted to remember his expression and to lock it away in her heart. No face would ever be as dear, no man ever so deeply loved.
Victoria didn’t see Mrs Hutchins again. She walked down the stairs and stood back to let Alistair open the front door for her. When they were both outside and he closed the door again, she put a hand on his arm, knowing it would be the last chance she had to ask. ‘Why are you so committed to these children, Mr Devlin?’ she whispered. ‘Why would a man who has everything bother with children who have nothing?’
He was silent for a long time. Numerous people walked by the house, some casting curious glances at the fine lady and gentleman standing by the door, but it was clear that Alistair would not be rushed. The furrow in his brow told Victoria he was thinking very carefully about whether or not to answer her question, and his reluctance to do so only added to her curiosity, convincing her there was something very personal at the heart of all this.
‘Are you familiar with the story about...my older brother?’ Alistair asked in such a quiet voice that Victoria had to lean in close to hear it. ‘The one who fell in love with an actress.’
She nodded. ‘Yes, my uncle told me about it.’
‘Of course. Everyone in the theatre knew about Hugh and Sally. Knew how they fell in love and eloped after my father wouldn’t allow them to marry. Most people even knew they eventually had a daughter, Helena, and that after my brother died, my father refused to see her. For most people, that’s where the story ends,’ Alistair said quietly. ‘But for me, it’s where it really begins. Because I found Hugh’s daughter—and, sadly, I was the last person to see her alive.’
‘She died?’ Victoria whispered. ‘How? When?’
‘It’s a long story—’
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
He glanced away, the muscles in his jaw working. ‘After my father turned Sally away, she went back to the theatre where she had been performing when my brother met her. I suppose she thought to pick up where she left off,’ Alistair said. ‘But she couldn’t remember her lines any more and an actress who can’t memorise lines is of no use to anyone. So, she tried turning her hand to something else. She rented a small room over a milliner’s shop and took in sewing, hoping to earn enough money to take care of her and Helena. Sadly, there wasn’t enough money, and when Helena got sick, Sally turned to...other ways of making money. But it was a desperately hard life, and eventually, she fell ill. So much so, that Helena often ended up having to look after her.’
Victoria could scarcely breathe. She wanted to stop him, knowing how painful it must be to talk about it again, but she had to know how it ended.
‘Sally died not long after that,’ Alistair continued in a low voice. ‘A few of her friends from the theatre took up a collection and got enough to give her a decent burial, but there wasn’t enough left over to look after Helena and no one was willing to take her. So, she ended up on the streets, as so many children do. She drifted from place to place, stealing food, picking pockets, learning the trade so she could keep clothes on her back and food in her stomach. But it was no life for a child and after she was caught and beaten for stealing a loaf of bread, she never really recovered.’
‘How do you know all this?’ Victoria whispered.
‘I made it my business to. I never forgot the day Sally and her daughter came to see my father,’ Alistair said quietly. ‘I was present for that interview because my father thought it would be a good lesson for me to learn. He called me into the room and I remember looking at that lovely young woman, because Sally was still beautiful then, and feeling totally removed from her and her daughter. As though they had nothing to do with me. Because I honestly believed they had nothing to do with me.’
‘Then you agreed with your father?’ Victoria said.
‘At that time, yes. I thought he’d done the right thing in turning Sally away. I couldn’t imagine my brother throwing away everything he’d been born to for the love of a woman who was clearly so far beneath him. I couldn’t understand because I’d never been in love. And then
, ironically, I did meet someone,’ Alistair said. ‘She was a few years older than me and was unhappily married. It had been an arranged marriage and, though both parties benefited financially, there was never any love between them. It wasn’t long before we became lovers,’ he said, his voice softening. ‘Her husband found out, but he didn’t try to stop us. He didn’t care. He travelled a lot and, as long as we were discreet, he was willing to turn a blind eye. But I came to love her desperately. I would have done anything for her. Anything to be with her.’
Alistair paused, and after a moment carried on. ‘Eventually, her husband came back and decided it was time for our affair to end. Someone told him they had seen us together and he didn’t like that, so he arranged to take her away. He owned some property in Scotland and decided it would be best if she stayed there. He, of course, continued to live in London and to travel throughout Europe, but I never saw her again.’
‘Did you write to her?’ Victoria asked, trying to imagine how hard it must have been.
‘In the beginning. But after a while her letters stopped coming. I suppose she realised how hopeless it was. But I came to understand how love changes a person. For the first time in my life, I understood what my brother had gone through and what he’d felt for Sally. And I realised how important it would have been to Hugh to know that his wife and daughter were taken care of. It broke my heart when I realised how badly we had failed him.’
Victoria blinked hard, feeling tears trembling on her lashes. ‘What did you do?’
‘I started to look for them,’ Alistair said. ‘I wrote endless letters, asked endless questions. I went to the theatre where Sally had worked, hoping to find some answers. It was from someone there I found out that she had died, but it took another six months before I found Helena. I had only seen her the one time, but I remembered her. She was a beautiful little girl, with the brightest red hair I’d ever seen. And she had...my brother’s eyes,’ Alistair said, lost in memories of the past. ‘I knew she was his the moment she walked through the door.’
‘Your father must have seen that.’
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