House of Angels Read Free Page A

tailored suit lurked a heart as cold and rancid as the bogs beneath the lush green grass of the lower fells.
    His three daughters had long since learnt to listen for the heavy tread of his highly polished boots so they couldbetter judge his mood. The louder the creak on each stair, the more vile his temper. The sound of his menacing approach would allow them a few precious moments to take evasive action: to slip quickly down the servants’ stair and run helter-skelter to hide among the exotic leafy plants in the conservatory, or climb the hill to Serpentine Woods above the house, their hearts racing with giddy excitement at their daring escape.
    He had never been the kind of father any daughter would run to for a hug and a kiss, but rather one to be avoided. A man without pity; a tyrant and a bully who would have his way at any cost simply to prove that he possessed the power to do so.
    A stray shaft of spring sunshine from the long window that reached almost from floor to ceiling cast its dusty rays into the furthest corner of the room, where Livia’s two sisters huddled together, powerless to help her. Alike they may be in many ways, certainly with regard to their angelic fair hair and soft grey eyes, yet they were so very different in temperament. Romantic, spoilt Ella, so self-absorbed , so sure of her pale elegant beauty that she’d steadfastly believed herself to be immune to their father’s torment. Now her childlike grey-green eyes were rounded in disbelief beneath fine winged brows, revealing shocked outrage at finding herself in this predicament.
    Practical, uncomplaining Maggie, the youngest of the three, was begging their father to desist his torment; her sweet, heart-shaped face turned pleadingly up to his, soft grey eyes pooled with tears. Not that he would pay heed to either of their pleas. Witnesses to his cleverly devisedpunishment were an essential feature of their father’s reign of terror, all part of his evil plan.
    Josiah Angel maintained control over his three daughters by the cleverest, vilest form of cruelty. Too often he’d experienced their stubbornness over the years and had come to see that to bring one to heel, he must hurt one of the others. The trick never failed. On this occasion it was Livia who was being made to suffer for Ella’s obduracy. And, since the strap had failed to bring about the desired surrender, his second choice of punishment was the iron cage, small enough to accommodate one person and of sufficient height to keep his eldest daughter’s long legs from touching the floor.
    But Livia had no intention of making it easy for him. She drummed her heels on the unyielding floorboards, wriggled and fought in a futile effort to free herself. Sadly, her strength was puny against her father’s iron grip. He held her by her long golden tresses, which she took such care to brush one hundred times every night, wrapping them tightly around his great fist. She could feel clumps of hair tearing from her scalp, splinters from the rough boards digging into her bare feet as she attempted to hinder his progress in any way available to her. In spite of her pain, Livia managed to raise her head sufficiently to look up, and wished at once that she hadn’t.
    It was Ella who let out a half-strangled gasp, and Maggie who found the courage to defy him. ‘Not the cage! Please, Father, not the cage. Have pity.’
    Ella began to weep and Maggie’s pleading went unacknowledged as Josiah tied Livia’s thin white wriststo the leather strap that hung from the central hook. He half smiled, revealing the handsome good looks he’d once enjoyed before ill temper, age, and overindulgence had taken their toll. ‘ Only a bird in a gilded cage ,’ he disdainfully trilled in his hoarse, grating voice as he closed the door of the cage and turned the great key in the lock, leaving his daughter hanging an inch from the floor.
    Livia’s blue eyes welled up with tears as she courageously kept her gaze fixed