Chapter Thirteen

Kitty stood staring at the rabbits playing on the lawn from her bedroom window. Behind her, the smart leather travelling bags that Sunday had gifted to her stood packed and ready to go, and it hit her afresh that this would be the last time she would ever look out upon this beloved view. Sunday had never made a secret of the fact that Kitty was a foundling and yet strangely, although she had fantasised about her mother coming for her, the girl had never felt that she had missed out on love. At Treetops, she had been a part of one great big happy family. She stared at the woods rolling away into the distance and the spring flowers that were peeping from beneath the hedgerows as if she was trying to commit every tiny detail to her mind. It was doubtful there would be such wide-open spaces and panoramic views in London. She would probably have to find a park to stroll in if she wished to see a green space. But then she shook herself. She was going to meet her birth mother – and that would make up for everything she was leaving behind, surely? Already she could picture them arm in arm making up for all the lost time.

A tap on the door interrupted her thoughts and Ben stepped into the room, his face solemn.

‘I’ve come to take your bags downstairs if you’ve finished packing and to tell you that Tom has brought the car around to the front door. He says that you’ll be leaving in ten minutes.’

‘Very well. I’ve just got to put my coat and my hat on.’

He nodded, then lifting the bags he quietly left the room as Kitty sat down in front of the dressing-table mirror to secure her hat with a pin. She was wearing her newest outfit, which had been made by the local seamstress to a pattern that the woman had assured her was the very latest fashion. It consisted of a long, dark green skirt that hung straight at the front and had a slight train at the back. With it she wore a lace-frilled white blouse with a high ruffled neckline and wide sleeves, and over the top of that she donned a short jacket cinched in at the waist with a flared peplum. The jacket was made of the same material as the skirt, trimmed with cream cord, as was the wide-brimmed hat, which also boasted some long cream feathers which floated about each time she turned her head.

With the jacket buttoned and the hat firmly in place Kitty looked in the mirror for one last time and was pleased with what she saw. With her hair combed into a neat chignon on the back of her head she felt extremely grown up and hoped her mother would approve of her when they met. But first there were the goodbyes here to get through and she wasn’t looking forward to that one little bit. Still, it could not be postponed so, bracing herself, she picked up her small bag and sailed from the room and down the wide staircase.