CH 1: Disinherited

"Can you keep a secret?"

Trying to hold on to his rapidly fading shred of hope, Tim reached over and took Rachel's tiny wrist in his. The pulse was faint…soft. Not wanting to feel the proof of her impending demise, the teacher quickly moved his hand to her forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. "What is it?" he asked, truly not wanting to know. Confessions were for those who were knocking on heaven's door, and Rachel wasn't going to die…she couldn't!

With a dreamy look to her sleepy eyes, Rachel softly revealed, "My father's coming back for me and he's going to take me to live with him in the big white house. Do you remember it?"

"Yes" Tim whispered, his eyes squeezing shut, "yes, I remember."

"I used to tell you about the beautiful big house overlooking the ocean" Rachel sustained, her features growing pallid as she briefly closed her eyes. "He's going to come soon…he's going to come and take me away from this horrible place." Suddenly appearing frantic, she begged, "But you mustn't tell Reverend Trask! No one must know, Tim – this must be our secret…"

Having expended her final ounce of strength, Rachel's starry eyes closed and forever sealed off the only heaven Tim had ever known. With a trembling lunge for her wrist, he checked her pulse and found that he could feel nothing but the pounding of his own heart.

'No' he thought, 'it's not true, it's not!'

With a sorrowful exhale, Tim grasped at Rachel's fallen form and buried his face against the crook of her neck. She was still warm, and worse yet she smelled of the perfume he had come to love…

"Rachel!"

With a shallow gasp, Tim shot up in bed as if attached to a spring, his raspy breathing pervading the air as he mopped the sweat from his brow. It had only been a dream…

'No' he inwardly corrected, 'a nightmare.'

Uneasily lying back down, Tim's weary gaze directed up toward the cracked ceiling of the Collinsport Inn. He had just arrived from an unfruitful trip to New York City, and was now desperately trying to figure out what to do with himself. His cousin Miranda had refused to help him with his revenge against Gregory Trask, so he'd been left with no choice but to seek other means of vengeance. So far he had nothing in the way of plans, thus leaving him with the feeling of complete defeat and a longing for death. What was there to live for, after all, without Rachel Drummond?

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Bradford Soames poured himself a brandy while grinning about his cigar, his voice booming and jovial as he inquired, "Why Kitty, are you sure you won't join me in a drink? You're looking rather pale, my dear…a brandy would do you good."

Pursing her lips, Lady Hampshire glared back at the stocky man before snapping, "I really wish you wouldn't be so cold, Bradford – my Gerald is dead, yet here you are drinking like a fish!"

"On the contrary, my dear" Bradford smugly argued, "I am only cheerful because Gerald listened to me and cut you from his will. I could sense your type from a mile away, Miss Soames…it is quite clear what you were after."

Kitty blanched. "And what, pray tell is my type, good sir? I cannot believe that you turned my own beloved against me!"

"Beloved, indeed!" Slamming his brandy down onto the cabinet beside him, Bradford irefully hissed, "At this manor it is common knowledge that you slept with Lord Byron!"

Feeling her cheeks grow hot with indignation, Kitty shot up from the settee before shouting, "That's a lie! Lord Byron has always been good to me and would never stoop to the immoral ways in which you suggest! How dare you accuse me of betraying my darling Gerald, and how dare you for actually convincing him of the fact!"

Bradford gave a resounding laugh. "My dear Kitty, it is truly no wonder as to why Gerald enjoyed your company – you are really quite amusing! Do you honestly think I am accusing you without a shred of proof?" When Kitty remained silent, he sustained, "You were spotted in Lord Byron's bedchamber – repeatedly, might I add – by one of the Lady Byron's hand maidens. Do you deny your affair now?"

"I most certainly do!" Kitty huffed. "Do you honestly take some feather-brained peasant's word over my own?"

Scowling, Bradford coolly returned, "As far as I'm concerned, you're both one in the same, my dear. I shall give you until three o' clock to pack your things."

"What!? B-but this is my home, too!"

"Not anymore" Bradford coolly reminded her. "You have been disinherited, my dear Kitty, and because of that you are no longer welcome here. I will not house the harlot who betrayed my only brother!"

Positively livid, Kitty gathered up the skirts to her black mourning dress and turned in order to leave, her eyes narrowing as she realized what she must do.

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"Oh Lady Hampshire, must you go?"

Sighing, Kitty assisted her maid with her things as she returned, "Yes Lydia, I am afraid so – Bradford has seen to it that I am no longer welcome here."

"But why, your ladyship? Whatever shall I do without your good taste?" Lydia bemoaned. "Sir Roderick is coming for tea tomorrow, but now I won't have you here to give your fashionable guidance!"

Kitty managed to give her a saccharine smile. "If it's Sir Roderick you're trying to impress, I'd advice wearing your red serving dress. I daresay he's quite fond of reds and pinks."

"Oh, yes ma'am!" Lydia chirped. "Once more I shall be forever in your debt!"

Smirking as she re-adjusted her onyx brooch, Kitty gave her maid a sugary-sweet glance before acknowledging, "Well if that's how you truly feel, my dearest Lydia, please accept the following offer: I will consider your debts completely repaid if you write my mother a letter at once."

"A letter? Oh yes, ma'am!" Lydia agreed. "What would you like me to say?"

"That I am leaving Hampshire House – of my own accord, mind you – to stay overseas in Collinsport, Maine."

Lydia's eyes widened. "Collinsport, Maine? Do you mean to stay at Collinwood, your ladyship?"

Now it was Kitty's turn to express surprise, an amused laugh escaping her lips as she returned, "Why no, of course not! I'll be residing at the local inn, and from there I shall call upon Edward Collins. When he sees me and learns of my predicament, I am quite certain that I shall then receive a proper invitation."

"Oh, I see" Lydia acknowledged. "You are so clever, Lady Hampshire – you so easily avoid scandal!"

"Yes, indeed she does."

Gasping, Lydia turned about so that her dark curls bounced with her movements, her cheeks coloring as she spluttered, "L-Lord Hampshire!"

Remaining sour and stony-faced, Bradford entered the chambers without even dignifying the poor girl with a response. Turning promptly to Kitty he revealed, "Your carriage is waiting for you outside, my dear. It shall take you wherever you wish…preferably far, far away from here."

"Have no fear then, dear Bradford" Kitty urged with a tight-lipped smile. "I plan on starting anew, and in order to do so I've decided to rid myself of all detestable men. Seeing as to how you are the most deplorable of them all, I shall be moving overseas."

Bradford couldn't help but flush with indignation at this news. With a forced smile, he tartly returned, "I look forward to that very much, my dear."

Smirking, Kitty agreed, "Likewise, my dear Bradford." Now turning to Lydia she urged, "Come along, child…you must assist me with my things."

Gathering her belongings to the best of their ability, Lydia and Kitty proudly exited the room and shut the door rather stridently behind them. As they did so, it was then that Kitty realized she would be leaving behind the only lifestyle she had ever known: sheer luxury.

A/N: Hehe Kitty's fun to write for so far…what a snoot! Now I know that Kitty can't be Rachel's reincarnation since I believe the person has to be dead before the other person is born, so I've decided just to make it a permanent possession type of thing. :-P And to those who don't know, I threw in Lord Byron's name (a literary figure) who had a whole lot of sexual escapades, so I thought that'd be funny to use his name as Kitty's lover. Only Brit Lit nerds like me will find that funny most likely, but oh well! lol