Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kitty spread the paperwork over the smooth top of her father’s sprawling desk, tucked into the corner of a lavishly appointed office.
She dipped her pen into an inkwell, dabbed off the excess, then signed her name on the last sheet.
She could only hope that when everything was done, and her parents saw the misery they had inflicted upon her, they would realize their mistake.
It was the only way to get them to stop, as nothing else had worked.
“That’s it.” She felt hollow, like she’d vomited up everything she cared about. It had taken days of arranging with Mr. Carter’s lawyer to find a buyer, who had chosen to remain anonymous, but it was over.
As her father gathered up the papers, she trudged back to her room, then sat on her bed and curled around her lumpy pillow, trying not to think about everything she’d lost in such a short period. First Cordon, then her business, and now her future.
It was as if the past year had never happened, and she was back to being simply Kitty Carter.
Maybe that was for the best. As a dressmaker, she’d barely earned enough from her business to pay her bills.
She’d really thought Cordon had been her chance to be respected in London.
Instead, she’d insulted the one man who could have changed her life.
He would probably never speak to her again.
What did it matter, though, if he was only going to live another few months?
A sob stuck in her throat, and then she was crying in earnest. It felt odd to have left her shop mourning a father whom she’d thought dead, and now she was mourning a man who was still alive but might as well be dead for all that it mattered.
“Kitty?”
Betty’s voice. Kitty wiped her tears away and rolled onto her side. Her sister stood a few feet away from the bed, rubbing her hands together.
Despite everything that had happened, Kitty forced a smile. “What is it?”
Betty chewed her lower lip. “Mother said that you would be moving back home, and I just wanted to make sure that…” A tear dripped down her cheek. “That it’s not because of me.”
“It isn’t.” Kitty scrambled out of bed and hugged her sister. “But even if it had been, I’d always forgive you.”
Betty hiccupped. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to give up your shop.”
Kitty sighed. She should’ve expected this would be a tough conversation. Betty had always been softhearted. She could be stubborn and demanding, but she was also Kitty’s sister.
“You matter more than a shop,” Kitty said. Then she pushed away from her sister and smiled. “Aren’t you excited about being able to spend more time with me? Or would you prefer to flirt with your suitors?”
This was her chance to reveal to Betty that Mr. Blaylock was dangerous. She just hoped her sister was not so in love with the man that she would refuse to listen to reason.
Betty blushed. “Not suitors.” She twisted her lips. “Reginald is eager to marry as soon as possible, but I haven’t seen him in days. I’m afraid he’s avoiding me.”
Kitty resisted the urge to let out a cheer. Cordon had fulfilled his promise, despite their fight. If she was lucky, Mr. Blaylock would stay away. It was too late to stop the sale of her shop, but maybe she could keep the proceeds for herself.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kitty said.
“Don’t distract me.” Betty folded her arms over her chest. “I saw your face when you exited the carriage. What did Mother do?”
Kitty grimaced. “She told me Father had died.”
Twin spots of red appeared on Betty’s cheeks. “She did not! Oh!”
Kitty twisted her hands in her lap. “I should have expected such a trick from her. After all these years, I still haven’t learned that she’ll never change.”
“Don’t do that,” Betty said sharply.
Kitty looked up. “What?”
Betty scowled. “You’re always putting yourself down. I hate that. Look at what you’ve accomplished!” She ran to the nearest trunk, threw it open, and tugged out the dress at the top of the pile, a deep-red evening gown Kitty had made for herself.
“Look at this,” Betty said, pressing it against her body. “You made this, Kitty. That’s incredible. How could you give that up?” She spun in a circle, then stopped in front of a mirror. “I’ve always been jealous of your talent.”
Kitty joined her sister. “Do you want it? The color suits you.”
Betty dropped the dress. “No, see, you’re doing it again. I don’t know what Mother did to you, but my sister would never have given up her shop so easily.”
What hurt the most was that Betty was right. Between losing Cordon and being beaten down by her mother, she’d forgotten why she’d opened the shop.
“Katherine?” Kitty’s mother said, entering the room. “Why are you not yet ready?”
Betty hurried away, but Kitty remained still and summoned her courage. “Go to the ball without me.”
Mrs. Carter tutted. “My dear, you cannot mope forever. Don’t you want to marry before your younger sister?”
The words wrapped around Kitty’s neck like a noose, making it difficult to speak the words she needed to say to her mother.
“No, I don’t.” Kitty faced her mother. “You want me to marry. You have been pushing me to do your will from the moment I was old enough to obey your commands. All I ever wanted was to be a dressmaker.”
Mrs. Carter made a disparaging sound. “Come, dear, you cannot be serious. It is time to let go of this foolish obsession with sewing. You belong here, with us.”
Kitty wrapped her arms around herself. “That’s what you want me to believe, but I’ve never felt like part of this family.”
Her mother stepped forward, but Kitty shuffled back, keeping the distance between them the same.
“Do you want scandal?” Mrs. Carter asked. “Is that what this is about?”
Of course, her mother would make this as difficult as possible. “Being a businesswoman isn’t remotely scandalous. Not for someone of our class.”
Mrs. Carter huffed. “We are certainly not of a lower class.”
Kitty did not bother to respond to that comment.
For years, she’d fought to earn her mother’s approval, but in doing so, she’d maintained a dependent tether to her family that had prevented her from achieving her goals.
Only by severing that tether would she finally be able to move on without constantly feeling the guilt and pain her mother insisted upon heaping on her at every moment.
Mrs. Carter opened a trunk and removed the top garment: a blouse Kitty had been working on for herself.
“Look at this,” Mrs. Carter said. “This is what you are choosing?” She shook the garment and scowled.
“Mother, I can’t—” Kitty started before her mother snatched the pair of gold shears sitting on Kitty’s dressing table.
At that moment, Kitty understood exactly what was going to happen.
The sequence of events unfolded in her mind like the pages of a children’s picture book, illustrated in colored pencils.
First her mother lifted the shears, then she sent them flying through the garment Kitty had spent hours carefully crafting.
“There,” Mrs. Carter said, when the floor was littered with scraps.
“Now, do you understand? If you will not be part of this family, then everything we’ve given you does not belong to you.
I will not abide by my daughter obsessing over clothing.
” She bent over, presumably to pick up another garment to destroy, but she didn’t get the chance because Kitty jerked forward and plucked the shears from her hands.
“Get out,” Kitty said.
“I beg your pardon?” Mrs. Carter asked. “This is my house, young lady. You do not get to order me about.”
A bone-deep coldness settled over Kitty. Once, she might have cowered before her mother, begged forgiveness, agreed to do whatever her mother wanted to return things to the way they had been. But as her mother had cut her blouse, so had she cut through the tether that bound her to her parents.
“You’re right,” Kitty said.
“Ah, so you come to your senses, at last,” Mrs. Carter said. “Now, summon Tanner and we will choose a gown for you to wear.”
Kitty rose and walked over to the rope. She dutifully pulled it, but when the lady’s maid appeared in the doorway, her brow wrinkled, as if she’d been listening to their conversation from the other side of the door, Kitty spoke before her mother could order the servant about.
“I am leaving,” Kitty said. “Tell my coachman that we depart as soon as possible.”
Tanner glanced at Mrs. Carter, who scowled. “Katherine Carter! You will do no such thing.”
The door creaked open, and Kitty’s father entered. “That will be enough, Agatha. Tanner, do as my daughter wishes.”
Tanner dipped into a curtsey before leaving.
“Father,” Kitty said, dipping her chin.
Mrs. Carter spun around. “This is none of your concern. I assure you that—”
“Do not speak over me,” Mr. Carter said.
Kitty had never heard her father speak to her mother in such a way. It was a refreshing change.
Mrs. Carter’s lips thinned. She did not respond but remained standing as still as a statue.
“Fine, remain there,” Mr. Carter said. He ran a hand through his hair.
“Perhaps it is best that you hear what I have to say.” He walked farther into the room and approached Kitty.
“My dear, there is not enough time for me to apologize for everything this family has put you through. I can only say that I am terribly sorry it took seeing your mother do such terrible things and hearing you speak the truth to realize how much we’ve hurt you. ”
Whatever her mother had said that had changed his mind, she mentally thanked God for it. Without her father, she might not have been able to get away from her mother. She had put on a brave face, but she was still an unwed woman under the age of one-and-twenty.
“You were leaving?” her father asked.
Kitty swallowed. “Yes.”
Mr. Carter nodded. “I understand. It is too late to stop the sale, but you will face no resistance from anyone in this house.”
Mrs. Carter made a strangled sound, then whirled around and stomped out of the room.
“She will be furious with you,” Kitty said.
Mr. Carter grinned. “I like it when she’s angry. It makes things more exciting.”
Kitty grimaced. “Father, I do not need to know such things.”
He chuckled. “Well, think of it as the cost of your freedom.” He took her hands. “I wish you the best, my dear. I apologize that I have been so…” He winced. “It does not matter. I’ve done wrong by you. That ends today.”
Kitty had heard similar promises before. “How do I know you won’t change your mind the moment I leave?”
Her father bowed his head. “You have my solemn vow that I will change, daughter.”
Perhaps it was unwise to accept his words so easily, but Kitty was tired of fighting.
She looped her arms over the older man’s head.
It was awkward, as they had not embraced since she’d been a young girl, but her father held her and squeezed her tightly before releasing her and stepping away.
It might have been her imagination, but as she walked out of the room past him, she thought his eyes were glassy.