The Dressmaker's Christmas Read online

  Holly couldn’t wait for her new sibling to arrive.

  Everything would be different, she was sure.

  Everything would be better.

  Chapter 3

  London, 1884

  Daisy Georgina Clements was born on a beautiful spring day in April. The sun washed London clean from the last grip of winter, spreading light and warmth into even the darkest corners. As Rose Clements gave her final push, songbirds birds chirped outside of the bedroom window; their symphony welcoming a new child into the world.

  The entire Clements household was overjoyed with the new arrival, but none more so than nine-year-old Holly. She adored her baby sister from the first moment she first clapped eyes on her. The baby was tiny and pink cheeked, with a light dusting of fine blonde hair that Holly knew would please their mama.

  With Daisy’s arrival, the atmosphere changed in the Clements’ household. Rose was quicker to laugh and smile, and Silas was less busy, the tension loosening his shoulders, so he stood taller and walked with a little more purpose. He made more of an effort to come home early from his work at the law firm in the heart of the city, to be with his family. Of course, most of their attention was lavished on the baby, but Holly didn’t mind one bit. Her mama no longer had time to scold her, and she was therefore free to do as she pleased.

  When Holly wasn’t cooing over her sister or trying hard to concentrate at school, she played upstairs in her room with her favourite toy, a rag doll that Holly had named Rosie, after her mama. Holly created exciting adventures in her mind for Rosie and acted them out on the huge rug that covered most of the hard wooden floor in her bedroom. When Holly put Rosie back on the shelf for a nap, she would play outside, imagining she was a great explorer traversing new lands on the other side of the world.

  No-one told her to behave.

  No-one told her to focus.

  No-one told her to be different than who she was.

  Yet as the days bled into weeks, and the weeks into months, Holly began to notice that her mama wasn’t just giving Daisy all her attention, the younger child was claiming all of her affection as well.

  Her mama began to treat her differently. It started slowly, like the ivy that crept up the brick wall on the East side of the house. Rose stopped calling Holly her usual nicknames; love and sweetheart were no longer applicable to her. Holly hardly noticed at first, because her mama hadn’t used those names as frequently as she had years before, but she eventually realised she’d stopped using them altogether. Daisy was now her sweet flower, her angel, and her little miracle.

  Holly was simply Holly.

  Next, Holly notice that her mama’s tone had changed when she spoke to her. It grew colder and harsher, her words more clipped and impatient. For Daisy, she only had soft words and praise. Soon, her mama wasn’t hugging her or touching her with any type of affection. She maintained her distance from her eldest daughter, as if an invisible barrier had been erected between them. Holly didn’t know what she had done wrong.

  The changes were so gradual, her papa didn’t seem to notice them at all. He continued to be enamoured with little Daisy, and while he showed Holly his usual affection, his work slowly drew him away from his family once again. Unable to rely on him to defend her, Holly was subject to growing criticisms and tongue-lashings from her mama.

  “Holly! Get away from the baby. You’ll wake her!”

  “Holly! Quite that chattering. Children should be seen and not heard!”

  “Holly! Do not disturb me. I am tired from caring for the baby and need my rest.”

  “Holly! Why are you never as sweet and docile as your sister?”

  The reproaches and comparisons to her younger sister became a constant throughout Holly’s days. As the baby grew, so too did the noticeable differences between the two Clements daughters; at least in Rose’s eyes.

  Daisy was pretty and fair, while Holly’s face was too round, her nose too squat, and her hair too red and wild.

  Rose declared Daisy brilliant and talented, though all she did was stumble and gurgle like any child her age. Yet, Holly’s head was filled with useless imaginings that would serve her no purpose as a proper young lady.

  As more time passed, it became more and more evident that Daisy was the apple of their mama’s eye, and Holly was a thorn digging into her side that she wished she could pluck away.

  But Holly held onto the hope that her mama’s love for her would return, one day. So, she kept her lips sealed when her mama scolded and belittled her. She kept her tears contained when her mama showered Daisy with her favour and treated Holly like a burden.

  She didn’t even object when her mama forced more and more of the household work onto her. Even though that’s what the maids were for. Even though it was demeaning and belittled her station as the eldest child of the house. Holly endured it all the same. She was obedient, fighting every rebellious instinct that burned within her. When her mama ordered her to dust the parlour, she did so without question. When she was told to scrub the entrance hall floors, she obeyed with a sinking heart. Every task forced on her, Holly tackled with increasing determination, believing each time that she might win back her mama’s affections if she succeeded.

  That hope proved futile and eventually dwindled.

  Her mama only grew colder as the years passed, and Holly’s heart became starved of love.

  Chapter 4

  1889

  While the whole of London lived under the terrifying pall of the gruesome Whitechapel murders by an assailant named Jack the Ripper, Holly couldn’t escape the growing nightmare within her own home.

  Little Daisy, now five years of age, had fully realised that she was the favourite of the two girls. Their mama made no secret of it, so it was no surprise that even at such a young age Daisy was already spoiled and entitled. The small, beautiful girl that Holly had once cherished, had become an insufferable horror.

  “Mama, Holly stole my doll!”

  “Mama, sister won’t give me her ribbon.”

  “Mama, Holly pinched me! Punish her!”

  Lies to get Holly in trouble. Manipulations to discredit her. The child was devious in undermining Holly at every turn and further tarnishing her image in their mama’s eyes.

  On a bright summer day in late July, Holly sat outside in the family’s garden. In truth, it was far too hot for it to be enjoyable outdoors, but it was still preferable to being in the house, under the harsh scrutiny of her mama. She sat on a stone bench in a small patch of shade, reading a book of fables her papa had gifted her for her birthday that year. Reading was an escape for Holly. A way out of her increasingly lonely life. Whenever her mama’s words cut too deep, or Daisy’s entitled behaviour became too aggravating, Holly would lose herself in a story, pretending she was one of the characters on the page.

  Footsteps crunching on the pathway gravel made her flinch. Gazing up, she spotted one of the maids hurrying towards her, and felt gloom settle in her stomach. She had been found. Her brief reprieve from her real life was over.

  “Miss Holly, I’m sorry to disturb you, but your mother is requesting your presence in the parlour.” Apology and sorrow flashed in the maid’s eyes. While her papa may turn a blind eye to his wife’s mistreatment of his eldest child, the staff did not. She often caught their sympathetic gazes as she walked the halls of her home, and more than the once the maids had assisted on hiding her from her mama.

  Offering a small smile, Holly said, “Thank you.”

  Ever the obedient daughter still yearning for her mama’s love, Holly stood and hurried to the house, the maid following on her heels. Making her way to the family’s main parlour, Holly stopped just before reaching the door to take a deep, fortifying breath. Plastering on a pleasant smile, she forced herself forward and over the threshold.

  Rose sat near the large fireplace on the opposite side of the room, her beautiful face alight with a grin as she gazed at her youngest child. Daisy stood before her, chatting excitedly. When Rose re
alised that Holly had entered, she looked up, and her expression darkened, the smile she had gifted Daisy just moments before had faded from her lips.

  “You wished to see me, mama?” Holly asked in a soft voice.

  “Yes,” Rose replied, raising her chin. Daisy turned to look at Holly with an evil little smirk. “Our lovely Daisy wishes for a playroom of her very own.”

  “Like Agatha!” Daisy declared. “Agatha has her own playroom.”

  Their mama flashed the small girl an adoring smile. “Better than Agatha’s, my darling. Why should her playroom be more splendid than yours?” Daisy clapped her hands in delight as Rose turned her icy glare back to Holly.

  “That’s very nice for Daisy,” Holly said as pleasantly as she could, though her skin prickled with dread as she wondered why this had anything to do with her.

  Rose nodded. “Yes, it is. However, we do not have empty rooms for her at present, so we must make space.”

  Holly stared blankly. “Mama…?”

  “We will need to convert your bedroom into the playroom. Besides, even if we did have a spare room, yours is the only one large enough to do the job properly.”

  Holly shook her head, thinking that she must have misheard. She knew their mama did not love her the same way she did Daisy, but she had always believed that maybe, just maybe, deep down in her mama’s heart, there was still a glimmer of affection for her. So, surely, her mama would never be willing to turn her out of her own room, just to give Daisy an extra room — a room in which to play?

  She was still her daughter after all. Still a Clements!

  “Wh…why, mama? Why my room? And…and where I am to sleep?”

  Rose raised her brows, surprised that Holly would question her decision. “There is a spare room in the maid’s quarters. You don’t need that much space, after all. Not now that you’re a growing young lady and no longer have toys of your own. You have so few possessions compared to little Daisy.”

  Because you do not shower me with gifts the way you do her, Holly wanted to scream, but she kept her mouth sealed and clamped into a tight line, scared that the words might tumble out of their own accord.

  When she had regained her self-control enough that she knew she wouldn’t voice her rage, Holly said, “Is a playroom worth it if I must be moved in with the maids?”

  Whirling, Daisy stuck her tongue out at her sister as their mama’s eyes narrowed.

  “Are you arguing with me, Holly? You know how much I detest argumentative young ladies. It’s not proper behaviour at all now, is it?”

  “No, mama, I’m not, I just…”

  Pushing to her feet, Rose snapped, “You should be grateful we continue to put a roof over your head! Are you so much better than the maids that you scoff at sharing their quarters? Would you rather be thrown to the streets to live in the filth?”

  Shock gripped Holly’s core and she fought back the tears. Eventually, after several long silent moments, she shook her head, defeated. “No, ma’am.”

  “Good. Now, I suggest you go and remove your things from Daisy’s playroom. While you do so, you can think about what it means for a young lady to be humble and grateful for the gifts in her life.”

  Holly didn’t want to obey. She wanted to stand her ground. To shout and scream and tell her mama no, I’m not giving in to your cruel intentions for a moment longer. She wanted give Daisy the spanking she had deserved for years. To shout that she deserved better!

  But she didn’t say or do any of those things. While anger and hurt had her head spinning, a tiny pang in her heart forced her to turn and leave the room. Despite everything, she was still desperate for her mama’s love. She would still do anything that was asked of her for the chance to win her way back into Rose’s heart.

  With slow, echoing steps, Holly climbed the staircase to her room and packed up her few possessions. Then, shoulders slumped with shame, she made her way to the maid’s quarters and her new room.

  Her only consolation in her humiliation was the fact that she was still a Clements. Still a daughter of the house.

  Not even her mama could steal that from her.

  It was only a few weeks after Holly had been forced from her room that another arrow from Rose’s bow stuck her straight through the heart. When one of the housemaids resigned for a station at a new household, it was Rose that came up with cruel and callous plan.

  “Holly shall take over the maid’s duties,” she declared to her husband as they stood in his study. Holly waited by the door, her head bowed, her body numb with despair.

  “Holly?” Silas frowned. “Why on earth would Holly do that? She is our daughter.”

  His words were like a balm to Holly’s broken heart. She peeked up to see how her mama would respond. Surely papa could make her see reason.

  But Rose did not back down. “It would be most convenient, darling. Holly is already living with the maids and assists them with their duties. We both know she’s not terribly bright and improving on her skills as a domestic helper might be the best thing for her. School is such a waste for her, don’t you think? I think we should keep her occupied here. Plus, it saves us the time and expense of hiring someone new. Aren’t you always saying that we need to save our shillings wherever we can?”

  Not terribly bright? Holly was smarter than most children her age. She was well-read, and an exceptional student. There was no way her papa would believe such a blatant lie.

  He would save her from this.

  She was sure of it.

  “My love, I do not like the idea of our daughter acting as a servant in her own household.” His tone was firm, his expression stern.

  “Who better?” her mama insisted. “Besides, the discipline and structure of caring for a household will do her good. Curb her wilder instincts and help her become a more pleasant young lady.”

  Each word from Rose’s lips was like a knife stabbing into Holly’s already broken spirit. Why did her own mama hate her so? What had she ever done to deserve her spite?

  Even as the questions haunted her, Holly doubted she would ever know for sure.

  “Rose…” Her papa’s voice had lost some of its firmness over the last few years.

  He sounded tired.

  Weak.

  Rose put her hands on his arm and pressed herself against him.

  “My darling, trust me. I know what is best for our daughter.”

  As Silas stared down at his wife, Holly knew her cause was lost. As much as Rose loved and spoiled Daisy, so too did Silas Clements love and spoil his wife.

  He could deny her nothing, even if it meant denying Holly everything.

  “Very well. If you believe it’s for the best.”

  Rose glanced over her shoulder towards Holly, a small smirk playing at her lips. “Yes. I do.”

  Holly closed her eyes and wished the ground would open up and swallow her.

  Chapter 5

  Christmas Eve, 1890

  The house glowed with light and colour as guests chatted and laughed in the halls and parlour. Large blood-red poinsettias adorned every surface, hundreds of candles had been lit offering a warm glow to every room. Decorative dried orange slices hung with brightly coloured baubles from beautiful ribbons on the pine tree in the corner of the dining room. The Clements’ annual Christmas party was as splendid an affair as it had been the years previous, albeit with one exception.

  Holly Clements was not among the beautifully dressed young ladies gossiping and casting an eye over the handsome young men as they moved from room to room.

  This year, Holly was among the serving staff, offering drinks on a silver tray to the people who had once been her equals in the house that had once been her home.

  It hadn’t surprised her that her family had all but forgotten her sixteenth birthday, with the exception of her papa, of course.

  The previous day, he had gifted her an antique silver locket that she wore beneath her dress. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and she had pro
mised him faithfully that she would never take it off.

  Silas smiled and ruffled her hair, just like he used to when she was a child. “Keep it with you always, Holly. It’s very precious to me… and very old.” He threw her a sly wink.

  “I will, papa,” she vowed, and kissed his cheek. He was the one small glimmer of light in her darkening world and yet even he seemed unable to save her.

  It hadn’t even surprised her when her mama declared she wouldn’t be invited to the party, but it had shocked her when she’d been forced out among the guests with a silver tray laden with crystal glasses, though she had begged to be kept in the kitchen.

  It was the cruellest thing Rose had done to her yet, hardening her unexplained fall from grace by parading it in front of her peers and the well-to-do friends and colleagues of her papa.

  Holly’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as she wound her way through the party, her tray laden with flutes of champagne.

  “Isn’t that the eldest Clements girl?”

  “What on earth is she doing?”

  “Dear Rose has always despaired that the girl was trouble… uncontrollable, even!”

  “This must be the only way they could think to keep her in hand; the poor dears.”

  The whispers swarmed her like stinging bees. Ducking her head, she tried to avoid eye-contact and began to manoeuvre her way back to the kitchen. She would deal with the consequences of abandoning the party later, so long as she could escape the probing stares and insensitive words that stabbed at her like a thousand tiny knives in the heart.

  She was near the edge of the room, on the verge of freedom, when a high, hateful voice called out to her.

  “Holly! Holly, where are you going? Come here this instant, or I’ll tell mama!”

  Holly closed her eyes and pursed her lips, biting her tongue hard to prevent the torrent spilling out in Daisy’s direction. As she turned back to the party, she spotted young Daisy surrounded by a group of giggling children. As dignified as she could be, Holly walked towards the cluster and smiled in response to their wide-eyed stares.