The Orphan's Dream Read Online Free

‘You can’t come in here. I won’t let you.’
    â€˜You two are spoilt brats,’ Mirabel said coldly. ‘Make the most of your room, Charity, because you won’t have it for long. I’ll sort this out later.’ Ignoring Wiley she left them and made her way up the next flight of stairs, although she had no intention of letting the matter rest. She would wait until her father had sobered up and choose a moment when she could catch him on his own. He must have been blinded by passion for his bride to have agreed to such a thing, but he would soon see the woman he had married for what she really was.
    The top landing, in contrast to the lower floors, was uncarpeted and shabby. When Jacob had sent in the workmen to renovate the old building no one had thought to redecorate the servants’ quarters. It was clean, Mrs James had seen to that, or rather Flossie had been set to sweep down the cobwebs and scrub the floors, but the paintwork was the original blue-grey, and the once pristine whitewashed ceilings had dulled to ochre with the passing of time.
    Mirabel let herself into her dreaming place. If she had hoped it might have been transformed into a boudoir fit for the eldest daughter of the house she would have been disappointed. As it was she was barely surprised to see a truckle bed abandoned in the middle of the floor, with the entire contents of the clothes press in her old room piled upon it, together with some threadbare blankets, a patched coverlet and a couple of pillows. The only other furniture was the wooden rocking chair which had always been there, and the trunk where she kept the few treasures she possessed away from the prying eyes of Miss Barton. These included a painted paper fan, a string of blue glass beads and several hair combs, which were the only things she had to remind her of her mother. There was Sukey, her rag doll with an embroidered face and yellow woollen hair, and there were books purchased from second-hand stalls in the market. None of them were in very good condition, but all were loved and well read, especially those on foreign travel.
    Mirabel was about to investigate in case anyone had tampered with her belongings when Charity and Prudence burst into the room. They stopped, staring around wide-eyed. ‘Ma put you in your place all right,’ Charity said with a spiteful twist of her lips. ‘This is where you belong.’
    â€˜Yes,’ Prudence added, giggling. ‘There’ll be spiders and rats, and it’s probably haunted too.’
    â€˜Get out.’ Mirabel made a move towards them, holding on to her temper but only just. ‘Go away and don’t come up here again.’
    â€˜You can’t tell us what to do.’ Charity shuffled a step closer. ‘This is our home now and Ma makes the rules.’
    â€˜Yes,’ echoed Prudence, following her sister’s example. ‘Ma does.’
    â€˜Out.’ Mirabel advanced on them with her hands fisted and they fled, screaming for their mother as they hurtled down the stairs. Mirabel slammed the door and turned the key in the lock.
    She had to wait for two days to snatch a moment alone with her father, but Jacob was not in a talkative mood. ‘But Pa,’ she cried in desperation. ‘You can’t mean me to live like this. Why am I relegated to the attic? Couldn’t the girls share the schoolroom?’
    He looked away, staring at the windowpanes as if the raindrops sliding down the glass were the most interesting sight ever. ‘You’ll have to take it up with your stepmother, Mirabel.’
    â€˜She’s the one who put me there in the first place. You’re the head of the house, Pa. Tell her, please.’
    Jacob rose from his seat at the dining table where he had been taking a late breakfast. ‘I have to get to the counting house before nine. If I allow Williams to handle things on his own he’ll be giving credit to people who can