Defiant

by M. J. Haag

  “I am she,” Mother said.

  The boy came forward.

  “A coin, Kellen,” Mother said.

  Kellen gave the boy a copper in exchange for the package. With a bob of his head, he returned to Anne, who I knew would see him out.

  Mother smiled in excitement as Kellen handed her the package. The gifts that Father always sent made his absence less cruel. Each one let us know he was thinking of us.

  “I should wait until he returns to open it,” she said.

  I grinned.

  “At least, until yours arrive,” she added. Her eyes never left the package.

  “He sent yours ahead of his arrival for a reason,” Kellen said. “Open it. We want to see what it is.”

  Mother didn’t need any further encouragement. She tugged the string free and removed the paper to expose a small, cloth-covered box. We all gasped when she removed the lid to reveal a gold encased emerald pendant strung on a delicate gold chain.

  “Your father’s latest venture must have done very well,” Mother said, breathlessly.

  She lifted the chain and let the pendant dangle in the sunlight. It almost seemed to glow with a light of its own.

  “It’s beautiful,” Kellen said.

  “Help me put it on. I want your father to see me wearing it when he returns.”

  Kellen stood and helped Mother ease the chain over her hair then rearranged her braid prettily to lay over one shoulder.

  “There,” she said, moving back.

  The sunlight, streaming in through the window, reflected against the stone; and an unnatural green light flashed in Mother’s eyes briefly as she looked at me.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “You’ve never been more beautiful,” Kellen said when I hesitated.

  She smiled and blinked heavily.

  “I believe this gift overexcited me. I need to rest for a bit.”

  She didn’t rest, though. She exhaled loudly, her lids half closing.

  “Mother?” I said, standing to touch her face. “Mother?”

  She didn’t respond.

  “I don’t think she’s breathing, Eloise,” Kellen said softly.

  Chapter Two

  “Anne!” I screamed as Kellen put her head on Mother’s chest.

  Anne came running into the room, her skirts lifted to her knees.

  Kellen straightened, looking at the woman.

  “I can’t hear her heart beating.”

  A moment of silence gripped the room, and a heavy weight settled on my chest.

  The expression on Anne’s face shifted from fear to grief to a carefully composed mask. She went to Mother and set her head to chest for a moment before facing us.

  “Your mother’s gone,” she said softly. “We all knew the tincture wouldn’t work forever. Your mother, most of all. She asked me to give each of you a message when the time came.”

  She stepped close to Kellen and wrapped my sister in her arms.

  “You are my moon. When you look at the stars, know that I’m watching you and love you always.” Kellen didn’t wrap her arms around Anne in return, but it didn’t stop Anne from pressing a kiss to my sister’s temple.

  My throat ached when Anne released Kellen and looked at me.

  I welcomed her hug, and her message from my mother.

  “Take care of your sister,” she whispered. “Your light will need to burn brightly for both of you in the days to come. Know that I love you. Always. Know that I am with you when the sun touches your skin, and hear me in every songbird’s voice.”

  I hugged Anne in return.

  “Thank you.”

  When she was done, she sent us from the room.

  “Send Judith to me. We will care for Margaret.”

  Kellen and I didn’t speak as we went to the kitchen. I didn’t have the words necessary to break the numb state of disbelief that entombed my mind.

  “Mother is gone,” Kellen said calmly. “Anne will need your help bathing her.”

  Judith stared at us in shock for a moment before she went running.

  Kellen went straight for the door, and I followed in her wake.

  We found Hugh was in the stable, oiling the leather fastenings of the carriage.

  “Mother is gone,” Kellen said. “You will need to fetch a coffin. We will bury her the day after tomorrow.”

  Hugh removed his hat, his expression filled with sorrow.

  “My condolences, Kellen. Eloise.”

  I nodded at him, took my sister’s hand, and led her down the drive to the path we always took when we needed to escape, even just for a moment.

  Neither Kellen nor I spoke until we reached the ridge.

  “It wasn’t time,” Kellen said in a flat voice, her eyes dull.

  I stared off in the direction of the castle, my mind still numbed with a reality it seemed unable to process. Mother was dead. Gone forever. She was the reason we both still lived at home. The reason we never entertained thoughts of marriage.

  She’d been sick as long as I could remember. A weak constitution many a learned doctor had said. Yet, I’d thought she would live as long as any other because we cared for her so well. Kellen and I had both expected to care for her until our hair turned grey with age.

  In a single moment, everything had changed.

  “What will become of us now?” Kellen asked, almost as if reading my mind.

  I wrapped my arm around her waist and held her as she set her head on my shoulder. I hurt more for the pain I knew she struggled to contain and thought of Anne’s message from Mother. Kellen needed me to be strong.

  The front door slammed. I jumped at the loud noise, and Kellen looked up in surprise from the needlepoint she was pretending to do.

  Since we’d returned from the ridge the day before, a hush had stolen over the house. No sisterly banter. No echo of Mother’s laughter. Nothing but sitting and waiting to lay Mother to rest. No one would call on us during the seven days the house was in deep mourning. We’d ensured our privacy to grieve by draping the front door with black, as was custom, to warn away callers. After seven days, the gossipmongers would start to arrive to offer their condolences and glean what information they could from our misery.

  Feeling the spark of my temper ignite at the loud intrusion, I stood and went to the hall.

  The sight of Father standing in the entry, shaking out his jacket stunned me. He turned to find me staring at him and smiled widely, his eyes lighting with joy.

  “Eloise! There you are. Come see what I’ve brought you.”

  I stared at him in confusion at the very typical greeting. Surely he’d seen the black draping on the door.

  “Father, did you not—”

  Kellen’s hand settled on my shoulder.

  “Hello, Father,” she said.

  “Kellen, my heart. You look lovelier every time I return. I brought you something special. Just what you need.”

  He reached into his coat and withdrew two paper packages. Kellen’s was a small square. Mine was long. At least the length of my forearm.

  “Let’s sit in the parlor so we can open them,” he said.

  Kellen’s fingers twitched on my shoulder.

  “Perhaps your study, Father,” she said as he started toward us.

  “Nonsense. The parlor is where you always open gifts.”

  I glanced at Kellen, unsure what to do.

  “He’s not ready,” she said softly.

  I stepped forward to intercept him.

  “Father, there’s something you should know about Mother.”

  He stopped to place a kiss on my cheek.

  “She has died, Eloise. We have not. She would not like us to act like we did.”

  With a fatherly pat on my shoulder, he walked around me and entered the parlor.

  On a higher level, I knew what he said was pure truth. Yet, his words fell like a hammer to my heart. A whisper of noise and twin intuition told me Kellen still stood just behind me.

 
“Remember, some are better at hiding what they truly feel.”

  I nodded and took her hand. We entered the parlor where Mother was laid out in her best gown. Father stood looking out the window, less than an arm’s length from her. He didn’t acknowledge her presence at all when he turned to look at us.

  “Go on, then. Open them,” he said, gesturing to the packages on our chairs.

  I dutifully picked up the package and sat to wait for Kellen to open hers. I always made her go first.

  She removed the string and opened the paper to reveal a silky, red ribbon.

  “Thank you, Father. It’s beautiful.”

  I opened my package to find a small, bareroot tree. There were no shoots coming from the single stem, but it did have a few nubs that promised branches in the future.

  “A pear tree,” Father said when I glanced up at him. “You had a sweet tooth when I was last home.”

  I smiled slightly, remembering how I’d tried to talk Judith into making sweet pastries.

  “Thank you, Father. These gifts are lovely.”

  “As are the two of you.”

  He inhaled deeply and tucked his hands behind his back. It was a pose Kellen and I knew well. The pose he used to deliver news he knew we wouldn’t like. Such as his departure.

  “You are of an age now,” he began. “Old enough to make your own decisions and to care for yourselves.”

  My stomach dropped to my toes as I feared that this wasn’t a departure speech but a proposal discussion.

  “I expect now that your mother has passed on, it won’t be long before you’re married and gone from this house,” he continued, unaware how the callously delivered words twisted my stomach.

  “That being the case, I see no reason to delay my next venture. I will leave tomorrow.”

  I couldn’t decide if I was relieved he wasn’t trying to marry us off or angry that he seemed barely affected by Mother’s death. Until he’d mentioned it, I hadn’t been sure he’d even noticed.

  “We bury Mother tomorrow,” Kellen said. “You cannot leave until after that.”

  “Of course. Of course. We should see her to her final resting place near dawn. She loved watching the sun come up.” For a moment, something crept into his gaze. Something real and alive and in pain. With a flash, it was gone again.

  “I will tell Hugh of our plans and see you at dinner.” He strode from the room without a backward glance.

  “If that is love,” Kellen said, “I want no part in it. Ever.”

  I captured her hand in mine and waited for her to look at me. When she did, I saw her careful mask was slipping. Anger reflected in her gaze.

  “We don’t know what he’s feeling right now. And what he felt for Mother is but one kind of love. Mother showed us another. Never forget hers. Or mine, Kellen.”

  She nodded and pulled away. I let her go, knowing she needed her space.

  While she went to her room to regain an iron-fisted control over her emotions, I went to the kitchen. Judith and Anne were making pastries.

  “Those look fancy,” I said, dipping a finger in the lemon curd and earning a swat on my hand.

  “They were fancy before you marked them.”

  I snorted and licked my finger.

  “I only marked the one. Since it offends you, I’ll remove it.” Judith lifted her spoon menacingly as I reached again, and I laughed. It felt good. But it only lasted a moment before the pain crept back in.

  Holding my hands up in surrender, I backed away from the table.

  “Did Father return with the lemons?” They weren’t a common item this side of the Dark Forest, but he was quick-witted with his trading.

  “No. I bought them at market.” Judith’s humor fled as she wiped her hands on her apron and looked away from me. “Mrs. Cartwright was known by many even if she didn’t leave the house. People will come to pay their respects, and we will have refreshments that will give the gossips something to talk about.”

  I hated the idea of opening our home to any visitors. Gossipmongers, all of them.

  “If we offer them nothing, maybe they won’t stay,” I said.

  Anne clucked her tongue.

  “You’re smarter than that, Eloise. That will be the first bit of information they’ll slaver over.” She assumed a gossipy pose and changed her voice. “‘Can you believe those girls. They didn’t offer us one bit of refreshment.’” She lowered her pitch to a snide whisper. “‘Not surprised. With their father gone and their mother ill, they likely ran about like heathens.’”

  “Your mother wouldn’t tolerate that,” Judith said. “Neither will I. She raised you well. Two fine young women who know how to be proper young ladies. Her one hope was that you’d both marry well. I won’t let lack of refreshments dash her dreams.”

  No matter how much I wanted to deny it, I knew there was truth in her words. And, as greatly as I hated the idea of catering to the gossips, I couldn’t allow them to say anything negative about Mother. Not now. Not ever.

  “You’re right. Can I help?”

  “No. Go spend time with your father. You never know how much you’ll have.”

  I nodded and left with my cloak. A sweep of the yard turned up no trace of Father or Hugh. I stood by the chickens, wondering where the pair might have gone when I heard a faint, muffled thump and scrape. Following the noise through the trees to the west, I spotted Hugh in a small clearing not far from the house.

  Sweat glistened on his pale, white torso as he worked dirt and stone from the shallow pit forming in the ground. I’d never seen him that unclothed before. But then, he’d never had to dig a grave for us. I swallowed hard and quietly turned away to leave him to his task.

  Back at the house, I continued my search for Father and found him once again in the parlor, standing beside Mother. With his back to me, he stared out the window, and I took a moment to commit this instant to memory. It would be the last time I would ever see them together.

  His once golden hair had lost much of its yellow at the sides, and new lines creased the corners of his eyes. He also looked a bit leaner than the last time I saw him. He’d always been a trim and fit man, not gaining girth around the middle like so many others his age. When he was here, he would carry Mother to and fro as needed. When he was away, he said he often loaded and unloaded merchandise. Better that he complete the tasks than pay someone else. It was his work ethic that influenced Kellen and me and why we willingly labored alongside those we employed, unlike many of the pampered girls of our means.

  “Father,” I said softly so as not to startle him. “I saw Hugh in the clearing to the west. It’s a lovely spot.”

  “Yes. Lovely.”

  His tone indicated he wasn’t in the room with me. His distance didn’t bother me. In fact, I was quite used to conversing with someone who didn’t want to talk.

  “The morning sun will shine through the trees in winter, and a blanket of flowers will cover the ground in spring and summer. It will be pretty.”

  I sat and looked at Mother.

  “She was looking forward to your return,” I said.

  He said nothing.

  “She loved the necklace you sent her.”

  “Eh?” He turned to look at me.

  “The necklace,” I said, pointing. “It’s very beautiful. Where did you find it?”

  His gaze drifted to Mother. Not a single emotion crossed his features until his gaze landed on the necklace. Something flickered in his gaze, a pain so deep it hurt to witness. But it disappeared before he turned back to the window.

  “Remove it,” he said after a moment. “The dead need no ornaments. It will only incite thieves to disturb her grave.”

  “Yes, Father,” I said softly, not bothering to refute his logic. A thief wouldn’t know which graves might contain jewels until after they checked.

  The moment my fingers touched the cold green stone, a bolt of heat seared my fingers. I gasped and released the jewel. The color swirled as it settled back on Mothe
r’s skin. I stared in horror and understanding. The glint I’d witnessed when Kellen put the necklace on Mother hadn’t been a play of light. It’d been magic.

  A sickening feeling settled into my stomach as I removed the necklace, avoiding the stone. I went to Father, my heart breaking with the possibility that he’d been so desperate to ease her suffering that he’d actually killed the woman I knew he loved very deeply.

  Stepping in front of him, I held up the necklace and struggled not to cry.

  “Why did you send this, Father? Why now?”

  His gaze held mine for a long moment before going back to the trees behind me.

  “I did not send it to your mother. Judith said that the last gift overtaxed her and warned me to send no more. If you will excuse me, there is much for me to do and very little time. I will see you at dinner.”

  He turned and strode from the room, leaving me with more questions than answers. I lifted the fine chain in my hand and studied the stone. If Father hadn’t sent the necklace, who had?

  I left the room and headed for the stairs. Kellen needed to know what had happened. Together, we could figure out who—

  I stopped on the steps and looked down at the necklace. I couldn’t tell Kellen. Ever. I knew how her mind worked and what she would think the moment I told her my suspicion that the necklace had killed Mother. Kellen had been the one to place the necklace around our mother’s neck. And if Kellen knew the stone had ended Mother’s life prematurely, she would never forgive herself.

  My grip tightened on the chain as helplessness sparked anger.

  As quietly as I could, I went to Mother’s room and placed the offending necklace in her box of jewelry. My mind raced as I stared blindly at her other baubles. Who would have cause enough to want her dead? The need to know consumed me. I needed to find that delivery boy. Or maybe not. Perhaps I could deduce who if I knew the why.

  I left the room and wandered the house. Try as I might, I couldn’t think of a single reason why anyone would want Mother dead. She was—had been—a kind person. In recent years, she no longer went to town because she wasn’t able, so she’d never had the opportunity to offend anyone. And, those who chose to come see her had always been graciously welcomed and treated like a dear friend. There hadn’t been many of those visits, either. Other than Judith and Anne, Mother had no dear friends. No family beyond us girls, either.