Whispering Echoes by Maya Chandel (best smutty novels .TXT) 📕
1930. When Kitty Watson, orphaned at the age of four by the death of her parents on the Titanic, returns to the family home, Rosevale Manor in Cornwall, she is faced with rather more than she bargained for. She finds herself having to contend with the both exasperating yet equally charming Michael Ellis, struggling to understand the extent of her feelings for him.
At the same time, the discovery of some old letters begins to shed a whole new light on her mother, Eveyln Watson, and bit by bit Kitty slowly learns more of her intriguing story. Yet she soon discovers that everything was not how she thought it had been; and as the complexities and intricacies of her parents’ lives, together with those of Michael’s own parents begin to unfold, it seems that old secrets and resentments still lie very close to the surface. So much so in fact that soon it seems as though the past may completely eclipse any chance of a future together for Kitty and Michael!
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- Author: Maya Chandel
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The gentleman laughed, a rather cruel laugh Kitty thought. ‘Spare me any pain!’ he exclaimed. ‘I had no notion you had such a gift for irony Evie; really I applaud you.’
‘I know you’re upset, but this really does not suit,’ came her mother’s voice, a little harsher than usual. ‘Now let me go!’
‘Not until you have heard what I have to say…‘
‘What you are doing now?’ came a much closer voice and Kitty looked briskly up to see Michael once more beside her.
‘Hush,’ she whispered in annoyance as she made to turn her attention back to the odd conversation below; however, the voices were fading such that she could no longer make out what was being said.
Indeed everything was fading, until just as suddenly as it had all appeared, it had vanished! Kitty looked about her in rather bewilderment as she found herself once more in the vast and empty ballroom; which somehow now looked even lonelier than before. With a slight shiver she shut the door firmly behind her and made to rejoin Freddy in the front parlour. She rather thought that the house had shared enough with her for one day; though as she made her way back she could not help but glance with a smile at the spot on the landing above where a little girl of four had shared her first ever dance!
Rosevale Manor, Cornwall 1930
As Aunt Elizabeth was never one for dallying about, it was little to be surprised that after a day’s recuperation she was quite ready to throw herself whole heartedly to the task of setting the house in order; and as such even less of a surprise that Freddy had soon found excuse to make his escape.
‘Typical, if a gentleman can be relied on anything my dear, then it is that he may always be looked upon to make himself as of little use as possible,’ sighed Mrs Allen as she and Kitty cast their eyes over the array of ornaments that Polly had unearthed from the Drawing Room for their inspection.
‘It is hardly a great loss,’ replied Kitty. ‘I am sure Freddy’s opinions for what we should keep would have counted for little. Indeed I dare say he is more use to us away; he should only have been a hindrance. We shall probably get the task done in twice the time without him.’
‘You are probably right,’ smiled Mrs Allen. ‘He should only have been languishing about and making a nuisance of himself. Now these we simply must keep,’ she broke off admiring a pair of stunning French neoclassical ormolu-mounted red marble vases. ‘I believe your Grandfather purchased them on one of his jaunts to the Continent; I recall asking your mother of their origins on one occasion. They are so utterly unique.’
‘Was Grandpapa well-travelled then?’ enquired Kitty.
‘Yes, indeed I believe he had taken much of his inspiration from his travels, particularly across the Continent. Well I suppose one only has to take Rosevale as a prime example. However, of course that was all in his early years; from all Evie’s accounts of him he was quite the most dedicated of father’s and was never absent from Rosevale for a moment longer than was needed during her childhood years.’
‘It must have been hard for him raising her on his own. I am sure there are not many gentlemen who would rise to the challenge.’
‘No however, it was evident he made quite a feat of it; your mother never had anything but glowing praise for him,’ smiled Mrs Allen. ‘Ah and of course this we simply have to keep,’ she continued, eyeing a bronze mounted amboyna gueridon. ‘It was an anniversary gift to Evie from your father. Why I remember him coming to London to pick something out for her; simply nothing would do and he was on the verge of falling into one of his dreaded sulks when this came to our salvation. The moment he clapped eyes upon it he knew it would be perfect; and Mama and I were both able to sigh a breath of relief.’
‘Was he so very difficult to please?’ laughed Kitty.
‘When it came to your mother yes; he was an absolute nightmare,’ smiled Mrs Allen. ‘I do not think it is possible to love anyone more than he did Evie; she was simply everything to him, as of course were you.’
‘Well we shall have to take this back to London with us,’ said Kitty attempting to throw off the threatening feeling of dolour. ‘I am sure we shall be able to find room for it somewhere.’
‘Certainly we shall. Now let us see what else Polly has brought for us.’
As her Aunt continued rummaging through the fine collection of items, smiling and frowning to herself as she mused whether they should be kept or not, Kitty found herself rather distracted to be of much assistance. Her eyes wandered fleetingly from item to item and she could but wonder at the story behind each one. Did they all bear as much significance as the vases and gueridon? How was she to know which of them did? She could judge them only on their material worth and appeal; however, the true value of any item surely was based on more. She wanted to know which of these decorative pieces had meant something to her parents; had held some sentimental value that belied their true worth. However, that was more than she could glean just by looking at them and Kitty was sure she had never felt her parents to be such strangers to her as they did in that very moment.
Not wishing to burden her Aunt with the tears that welled behind her eyes, Kitty etched slowly towards the door; then glancing a quick look at her Aunt who was still absorbed in her work, made her escape into the hallway beyond. She was being quite foolishly maudlin she knew as she dabbed her eyes with a handerkerchief, more indeed than she had any patience with herself for and she cursed herself for her over sentimentality.
Still endeavouring to regain some of her usual composure, Kitty found her attention wandering to the front door where Briarley appeared to be engaged in some sort of exchange.
‘Are you quite certain you will not come in to give it to Miss Watson yourself Ma’m?’ came Briarley’s clear ringing voice, instantly attracting Kitty’s curiosity further such that she took a few steps closer.
‘No I would not at all wish to disturb Miss Watson, however, if you would be so kind as to convey my regards to her,’ came a voice which immediately struck a familiar chord and set the cog wheels of Kitty’s memory rapidly in motion. It couldn’t be, could it?
‘Sarah?’ she called uncertainly, now more hurriedly making her way towards the door. ‘Oh Sarah it really is you!’ she exclaimed in unequivocal joy as she rushed to embrace the familiar figure, though somewhat aged before her.
‘Oh Miss, you recognised me!’ came Sarah’s overwhelmed voice.
‘Of course, how could you think I should not? Furthermore, I sincerely hope you were not intending to leave without seeing me; for I assure you I should have been most affronted.’
‘I… I did not wish to take up any of your valuable time… I only… I only meant to leave a little something for you,’ mumbled Sarah now staring at Kitty with tears in her eyes. ‘Oh but my what a sight to behold you are; so much like your mother!’
‘Briarley have some tea brought into the parlour; Sarah is quite an old friend of mine and I have no notion how she could ever have thought she might be permitted to leave without,’ said Kitty with an affectionate smile as she drew her arm through her former nursery-maid’s and led her inside.
‘You are too kind Miss; this is all far more than I…’
‘Sarah please, do not talk such nonsense,’ cut in Kitty sitting down beside her. ‘What does any of this equate to what you did for me that night; I have not forgotten and nor shall I ever.’
‘I… I did only my duty,’ replied Sarah modestly. ‘Heaven knows I should have done more.’
‘Whatever do you mean Sarah? If it had not been for you I do not know what I should have done; I still remember clinging to you as though my very life depended on it as we sat huddled up in that little lifeboat, watching on as…’
‘No child should ever have had to have seen such an atrocity!’ exclaimed Sarah vehemently.
‘Never mind a child Sarah; it was a sight no-one should have seen.’
‘Whenever I think of that night I still feel the icy chill that hung in the air; it was more than the physical cold, it was the grip of fear and panic, the dawning horror of it all… the hopelessness of being able to do nothing but watch… watch as all those poor souls…. Oh but I am sorry Miss, whatever am I about upsetting you with…’
‘It is alright Sarah, sometimes I think it does one good to remember; it makes one appreciate how fortunate we are to still be here at all, to have not perished like all those others.’
‘There is no one who knows that more than I Miss,’ sighed Sarah, ‘Why I have no right to be here at all; not when it should have been your dear mother with you on that lifeboat. I only hope you know Miss that there is not a day goes by when I do not…’
‘Sarah you only did as you were bid,’ said Kitty taking her hands in her own warmly. ‘You have no reason to feel guilty at all; indeed I beg you not to. I know my parents if they were here should feel indebted to you for having cared so well for me that night and indeed in those days that followed.’
‘Bless their souls,’ smiled Sarah fondly. ‘They were so young; their entire lives before them and then of course when I think of that little life that never even knew what it was to live. Fate can have such a cruel hand.’
‘What do you mean Sarah?’ asked Kitty with a bewildered look. ‘What little life?’
‘Well the…’ Sarah broke off rather abruptly. ‘Nothing Miss, I did not mean anything…’
‘Sarah?’
‘I thought you knew Miss… I should not have said if I did not think…’
‘Sarah please, just tell me what you meant,’ persisted Kitty.
‘I was referring to the baby Miss,’ sighed Sarah.
‘Baby!’ stammered Kitty in disbelief.
‘Curse my wretched tongue!’ exclaimed Sarah. ‘Why did I say anything?’
‘My mother was
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