Now as she gazed down on the sleeping baby she felt a surge of love towards her. With her long eyelashes resting on her plump, rosy cheeks, Kitty looked just like a little angel. Each of the children in Sunday’s care had been deprived of the love of their natural mother for various reasons, just as she herself had in her formative years, and this and her yearning for a child of her own made every single one of them so very precious to her.

Chapter One

April 1900

‘Now then, Maggie, that wasn’t very nice, was it?’ Cissie scolded. ‘Say sorry to Kitty this minute else it’ll be bed for you tonight wi’ no supper, me girl!’

Three-year-old Maggie pouted and crossed her arms as her chin rose defiantly. ‘Shan’t!’ she muttered as she glared at Kitty. She knew, as all the children did, that Cissie’s bark was far worse than her bite.

Cissie meanwhile had hurried across to Kitty and lifted her to her feet. ‘There, pet,’ she soothed as she brushed the grass from the child’s skirts. ‘It was very naughty of Maggie to trip you up like that, wasn’t it?’

Kitty stuck her thumb in her mouth and lowered her head. She was used to Maggie bullying her and didn’t take much notice of her any more, unless she really hurt her, which she did whenever she got the opportunity. For some reason, Maggie had always been jealous of Kitty. There were only six months between them in age but they were as different as chalk from cheese. Maggie was stockily built with mousy-brown straight hair and grey eyes – she was quite a plain child really – whereas Kitty was already developing into a beauty. She was quite daintily built and her deep brunette hair hung in shimmering curls to her shoulders; her soft brown eyes seemed to reflect her mood, for they could change from amber to almost black when she was upset; and her skin was like porcelain. All the staff did their utmost to treat each of the children the same, but it was clear that Kitty was a favourite, for her sweet nature matched her looks.

Unfortunately, Maggie’s temperament wasn’t much better than her looks and she tried Cissie’s patience sorely. On being reprimanded, the child had run off in a temper and almost reached the edge of the lawn when Sunday suddenly appeared from the rose garden and caught hold of her.

‘Whoa there, where’s the fire?’ she asked as she looked down into the sulky little face.

‘Cissie is pickin’ on me again,’ Maggie whined, throwing a dark look at the woman across her shoulder.

‘Now I’m sure that isn’t true,’ Sunday answered patiently. ‘What did you do?’

‘Nothin’!’ Maggie sniffed indignantly. ‘She reckons I tripped Kitty up but I never did. She fell over me foot.’

‘I see. Your foot just happened to be in the way, did it?’ Sunday was well aware how spiteful Maggie could be to Kitty, but she was also very aware that she was only three years old, so she made allowances for her. ‘Well, she looks all right now, so let’s just hope it doesn’t happen again, shall we?’