by Adele Whitby
“Have you always longed for a sister, too?” I asked.
“Of course!” Shannon said. “But that was not to be my lot, I’m afraid. Instead I’ve got six brothers, all younger than me—and such a racket they make! I don’t know how my ma can bear it!”
“I would’ve settled for a brother or two,” I said with a sigh. “But that’s why it’s wonderful to have you as my lady’s maid now, Shannon! We can spend so much time together; it will almost be as if we’re sisters!”
“You’re very kind to say that, milady,” Shannon said softly. I caught her eye in the mirror, and we smiled at each other. Right then I knew that I had absolutely made the right decision. Shannon was going to be the perfect lady’s maid!
As Shannon finished dressing my hair with sweet-scented sprigs of lilac, I glanced out the window just in time to see the motorcar crawling up the driveway. “They’re here! They’re here!” I cried. I leaped up from the vanity table and rushed to the door.
“Lady Beth! Your shoes!” Shannon called after me.
“Oh! I almost forgot!”
I paused just long enough for Shannon to slip them onto my feet; then I ran through the corridor and down the grand stairway as fast as I dared. Everyone was already assembled, of course; Mother, Father, and Grandmother were standing side by side with welcoming smiles on their faces. And just behind them were the servants in a neat row: Mr. Harrison and Mrs. Morris, then Father’s valet, Benson, and Mother’s lady’s maid, Miss Dalton, who had left a spot beside her for Shannon. Then stood the most senior footmen and housemaids. It was an honor for the staff to greet our visitors—an honor that they had to earn.
With just one glance, Mother told me that she was displeased by my lateness. I smiled apologetically, knowing that Mother would understand when I explained about Bridget’s sudden disappearance.
I scurried into position beside Mother just as Mr. Harrison stepped forward to open the great double doors. “Welcome to Chatswood Manor,” he said in his most solemn voice. My relatives had arrived!
The Trufants swept into the hall, trailed by their servants: a valet, three ladies’ maids, and two footmen. First came my uncle Claude, looking very dapper with his gold-tipped cane and his tall hat.
“Claude, old chap, good to see you again,” Father said as he shook Uncle Claude’s hand. “How are things on the Continent?”
Uncle Claude frowned and shook his head. “Very grave, very grave. A dark cloud is forming.”
My ears pricked up right away. A dark cloud? I wondered. Is there going to be a summer storm? But why would Uncle Claude look so worried about a silly old storm?
Uncle Claude was followed directly by my father’s grandmother, my great-grandmother Cecily. She had moved to France when Aunt Beatrice married Uncle Claude, so I didn’t know her very well. Great-Grandmother Cecily was eighty years old, though of course I would never mention her age. But I knew what that meant: She was old enough to know Elizabeth and Katherine. They had grown up together.
“Edwin, my boy,” Cecily said, greeting my father. “My, how you’ve aged. It seems that just yesterday you were wearing short pants, with your hair all in curls!”
I tried not to giggle at that image of my father as a child. He was so very dignified now, as the lord of Chatswood Manor, that it was hard to imagine!
Next came Aunt Beatrice, my father’s sister, who waddled behind Cecily with tiny, mincing steps, as if her shoes were too tight. While Uncle Claude bowed low and kissed Mother’s hand, Aunt Beatrice presented her powdered cheek to Father for a kiss.
“My dear Edwin,” Aunt Beatrice trilled like a canary. “How very lovely to be back at Chatswood. How very lovely to be home in England once more!”
While our parents greeted one another, I stole a peek at Cousin Gabby, who stood behind her mother. I longed to run up to her. But I remembered my manners and waited patiently for our parents to finish. Gabby was fifteen years of age now, and she looked ever so sophisticated in her sleek pink gown with its narrow skirt. Her golden ringlets were held back with jeweled butterfly clips.
“Cousin Gabby!” I said as I reached forward to embrace her. To my surprise, Cousin Gabby’s hug was short and cold. But her smile was as lovely as I remembered.
“Ma petite cousine, how special to see you again. I must tell you, though, that Gabby is a child’s name. I prefer Gabrielle,” she replied. Then her eyes widened. “Are you wearing flowers in your hair? Like a milkmaid? Oh, non, non, non. I have been away for far too long!”
As Cousin Gabby—or, rather, Cousin Gabrielle—burst out laughing, I tried to laugh with her. There was no reason for my feelings to be hurt . . . was there? Surely she was joking, as I knew she would never want to insult me. But when I heard a giggle from behind her, I realized that her lady’s maid was enjoying a laugh at my expense.
“Helena would like to speak with her counterpart,” Gabrielle continued. “She wants to ensure that everything will be to my satisfaction during my stay.”
I tried to smile as I gestured to Shannon. “This is my lady’s maid, Shannon. She will attend to your needs.”
“This is the one what has done that to your hair?” Helena asked in broken English. “No, thank you. I require an audience with the housekeeper, s’il vous plait, not a country girl dressed up as a maid!”
I felt a flash of indignation at the way Helena spoke to Shannon and looked to my cousin to see if she was going to address Helena’s rudeness, but she remained silent. She’s probably too shocked for words, I thought. I tried to exchange a sympathetic look with Shannon, but she refused to meet my eye. A red blush crept into her cheeks as she blinked back tears of embarrassment. As Helena laughed again, Gabrielle finally spoke up and said quite sharply, “Is there no better way for you to occupy yourself?”
Helena immediately strode up to Mrs. Morris. “You are the housekeeper, non?” she said. “I am the servant of Lady Gabrielle. I am to tell you what my lady requires. She prefer a room facing west so that she may sleep in the morning without disturbance from the sun. Before bed, you must prepare for her fresh strawberries and cream on a tray with three pink rosebuds in a vase. The flowers in her room are to be pink and white. She despise the color orange, so please remove it from her room.”
As Helena spoke, I grew more and more astonished—each request was more ridiculous than the one before! I would’ve thought it was all another joke, like the one about the flowers in my hair, but Gabrielle stood next to me staring straight ahead as if there were nothing unusual about her requirements.
“You must be exhausted from your journey,” Mother said as she patted Great-Grandmother Cecily’s arm. “Would you like to rest before we dine?”
“You’ve always been a kind heart,” Cecily said in her creaky voice. “Your mother must be so proud. Where is Elizabeth?”
Mother and Aunt Beatrice exchanged a troubled glance.
“My mother is Eliza,” Mother said gently. “Elizabeth passed away some years ago.”
Cecily blinked like she didn’t understand. “What did you say, Eliza?” she asked Mother.
“It’s no use, Liz.” Aunt Beatrice sighed. “I can never gauge if she’s more deaf or more addled by age, but either way, you won’t be able to talk much sense into her.”
“Pence is what I gave that ungrateful girl to run to the shops for a handful of sweets, and I daresay she ate them all herself!” Great-Grandmother Cecily snapped.
Mother moved her hand ever so slightly to beckon Mrs. Morris.
“Mrs. Morris, would you please show our guests to their rooms,” Mother said. “I am sure they would all appreciate an opportunity to rest and freshen themselves. Perhaps they would also like to have something to eat brought to them at their convenience.”
Oh no! I thought. If the Trufants ate in their rooms, I wouldn’t see Gabrielle again until dinner. We could hardly have a proper catch-up in the dining room while the adults carried on some Terribly Important and Frightfully Dull conversation. There was n
othing I could do but watch in silence as the Trufants followed Mrs. Morris up the stairs while our footmen struggled under the weight of their heavy steamer trunks. The Trufants would be visiting us for only three weeks, and then they were off to America for two glorious months—including a stay with Cousin Kate in Rhode Island!
At the top of the stairs, Cousin Gabrielle glanced over her shoulder and smiled as she gave me a tiny wave. That’s when I knew that she had not meant to hurt my feelings. I wished that there were a way for us to spend the day together. Cousin Gabrielle was right about one thing: She really had been away for far too long. Suddenly there was so much I wanted to tell her—and so much I wanted to ask. How could I ever wait until after dinner?
Then I had a brilliant idea!
“Shannon, I’d like to see you in my room, please,” I said.
“Yes, milady,” Shannon replied with her head still bowed.
As soon as we were behind closed doors, Shannon reached for the lilacs in my hair. “Lady Beth, I am so very sorry,” she said. “I did not mean to make a mockery of your hair.”
“What? Oh, gracious no, Shannon. Leave them!” I said, ducking away from her fingers. “I am sure Cousin Gabrielle was joking, and even if she wasn’t, I don’t care! I think they’re sweet! And every time I turn my head, I can smell their perfume. No, Shannon, I was hoping you would deliver a message for me.”
“Of course, Lady Beth.”
“Please tell Helena that my cousin is welcome to come to my room before dinner so that we might get ready together,” I continued. “And should she wish to join me now, that is perfectly acceptable as well.”
“Yes, milady,” Shannon said.
Usually at this time of day, I would write to Kate, but I didn’t want to begin a letter when I was sure that Gabrielle would be joining me shortly. After several minutes, Shannon returned—alone.
“Well?” I asked excitedly. “Is she coming?”
Shannon shrugged and looked unsure. “I . . . don’t know,” she replied. “Helena said she would convey the message. At least, I think that’s what she said. She can be . . . a bit difficult to understand.”
“Then Gabrielle will be here in no time,” I declared. “Shannon, would you please bring us some biscuits and tea?”
“Certainly, milady.”
Before she left, Shannon scooped up my blue nightgown for the laundry. I settled myself on the chair near the door so that I could properly greet my cousin as soon as she arrived.
But Cousin Gabrielle never came.
After breakfast the next morning, I made a point to sit beside Cousin Gabrielle in the parlor. It was almost impossible to believe that she had been at Chatswood for almost twenty-four hours and we still hadn’t spent much time together. Dinner the night before had been more lavish than usual, but I’d had a terrible time catching Gabrielle’s attention. It was quite strange, but she had seemed rather disinterested every time I tried to talk to her about the plans for my birthday party. I’d been so sure that glamorous Gabrielle would want to hear all about it—the menu, the music, the mountains of flowers for decorating the ballroom. And, of course, the stunning gown that had been made for me by the best dressmaker in London. But Gabrielle scarcely looked in my direction and hardly answered when I asked her direct questions.
Gabrielle must be tired from all the travel, I told myself. Surely a good night’s sleep, followed by a cozy morning in the parlor with Mother, Aunt Beatrice, Grandmother, and Cecily, would restore her spirits. But I was wrong again; Gabrielle turned her back on me and focused exclusively on Mother’s plans to redecorate the dining room. To me, it was the most boring conversation in the history of England—and I think Cecily must have agreed, because she dozed off on the divan.
I couldn’t understand why Gabrielle would rather discuss silk drapes with Mother than sit next to me whispering secrets. It almost seemed as though she wanted nothing to do with me. Be sensible, I told myself. After all, I hadn’t done anything to offend Gabrielle. Perhaps we just needed a few moments alone to pick up where we’d left off—just like Shannon and her cousin Molly.
“Gabrielle, would you like to take a walk in the rose garden with me?” I asked as soon as there was a lull in the conversation.
“A wonderful idea!” cried Aunt Beatrice. “Gabrielle, I know you will enjoy seeing the beautiful English roses. No bloom in the world can compare.”
But in the instant before Aunt Beatrice spoke, I saw it: A look of annoyance flashed through Gabrielle’s blue-gray eyes. “Certainly, ma petite cousine,” she said. “I know that you are terribly fond of flowers. But perhaps we can leave them in the garden and out of your hair.”
Our mothers laughed at Gabrielle’s joke, waking Cecily.
To cover my embarrassment, I quickly said, “Don’t be too certain, Gabrielle. Once you see our roses, you’ll want to wear flowers too!”
Then Gabrielle and I rang for our maids so that they could fetch our parasols. Helena arrived at once, but Shannon did not appear.
Gabrielle looked at me sympathetically. “Poor Beth,” she said. “It’s such a trial to have an incompetent lady’s maid. You must speak to your mother about a replacement. I wouldn’t stand for it if I were you.”
“Shannon isn’t incompetent,” I replied as I rang again. “She is simply new at the position—that’s all.”
“You make too many excuses for her,” Gabrielle said. “If she is not here the instant you need her, what is the point of her employment? What on earth could be more important than your needs? And look—now she is wasting my time as well.”
“I’ll just fetch the parasol myself,” I finally said, ignoring Gabrielle’s expression of shock as I stepped into the corridor—and bumped directly into Shannon.
“So sorry, Lady Beth,” she said breathlessly. “So very sorry.”
I glanced curiously at Shannon’s flushed face and the loose curls of hair that had escaped from her cap. “What have you been doing?” I asked.
“Nothing, milady. I was—I was far from the parlor when you rang,” she tried to explain. “How may I serve you?”
“Would you please fetch my parasol—the one with the ivory handle?” I asked.
“Right away, Lady Beth.”
As I watched Shannon hurry toward the stairs, I heard voices coming from the dining room, where Peggy and Nora were clearing the breakfast dishes. I crept closer and stood just beside the open door so that I could hear them better.
“Put on airs, did she?”
“Oh, the worst I’ve seen. Thinks she’s so special now.”
“She’s no better than us, I daresay.”
“Never you mind. Jennie took her down a peg. We’ll see how fancy she feels after spending every waking moment in the basement!”
Who are they talking about? I wondered. Whoever she was, I felt sorry for her. After what Shannon had told me about the basement, it seemed awful for anyone to spend so much time down there.
Then Shannon hurried up to me. “Lady Beth, I’ve brought your parasol,” she announced.
“Shhh!” I whispered, but it was too late. Peggy and Nora looked up and noticed me standing by the doorway. I saw them exchange a worried glance.
“Milady! Is there anything we can do for you?” Nora said at once.
“No, I’m quite all right,” I replied. “Thank you for the parasol, Shannon.”
I quickly returned to the parlor for Cousin Gabrielle and led her to the gardens. The sun was shining brightly on the rosebushes, making their petals look even more vibrant than usual. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky.
“What a perfectly beautiful day!” I exclaimed. “I hope that the weather holds until tomorrow. Last year, it rained buckets on my birthday, and we had to cancel the birthday picnic.”
“Indeed,” Cousin Gabrielle said, sounding bored.
“How did you celebrate your birthday?” I asked. “Was there a picnic?”
“Mais non,” Gabrielle replied with a short laugh. “I a
m not inclined to wallow in the mud like a pig.”
“Oh. Well, what about a party? I’m so excited about my birthday party this year! It’s going to be so grown-up, Gabby—er, Gabrielle. My party won’t be at teatime, for starters, and we won’t play any games. It will be a ball, and I think Mother has invited half the country! Can you imagine me as the guest of honor at a ball? To be honest, I’m a bit nervous about it. But Mother and Grandmother have been coaching me for weeks and—”
Here Gabrielle interrupted me by sighing heavily, as if she could hardly stand to listen to my chatter.
“So, ah, did you have a birthday party?” I finished lamely.
“No,” she said. “Maman took me to Paris, and I ordered six new dresses for our travels.”
“I see,” I replied. “Your gown is charming, Cousin. I adore the embroidered trim.”
A thin beam of sunlight slipped through Gabrielle’s lace parasol and glinted off a silver locket around her neck.
“How pretty!” I cried. “May I take a closer look at your locket?”
“Oh, this? It is nothing. You could have it, for all I care,” Gabrielle said as she pulled the locket over her head and dropped it into my hand. It was shaped like an octagon, with an elaborate letter T engraved on the front.
“It’s beautiful,” I said as I returned it. “Have you had it long?”
“No. I received it last month, on my fifteenth birthday.”
“You must have been so thrilled! I can hardly believe that I’ll finally receive the Elizabeth necklace on my birthday tomorrow. I’ve been waiting ever so long to call it my own!”
Gabrielle laughed harshly. “My locket is nothing like the Elizabeth necklace! The Elizabeth necklace is far more valuable.”
“Well, the Elizabeth necklace is very special,” I said agreeably. “Every Elizabeth in the family has worn it. And now my turn is almost here.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Gabrielle replied. “The Elizabeth necklace is covered in precious jewels. This locket is but a worthless trinket made of silver, without even a single gem!”