Beth's Story, 1914

by Adele Whitby

  “It’s no bother.”

  “If you must know, Lady Beth, the Trufant locket has been found in Shannon’s room,” Mr. Harrison said.

  Shannon gasped in surprise. “That’s impossible!” she exclaimed. “Mr. Harrison, you must believe—”

  “I have every hope that there is a reasonable explanation for this, but we must discuss the matter at once,” he said, interrupting her. “I am sure you understand.”

  Oh, this was too much! That Gabrielle’s hysterics could cast a bad light on Shannon!

  “Shannon,” I said. “Did you take the Trufant locket?”

  “No, milady,” she replied firmly.

  “Very good, then,” I said. “The locket is found, and no harm done. Now, if you’ll excuse us—”

  “I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Lady Beth,” Mrs. Morris said. “You see, the locket was discovered in a laundry basket of your clothes. Shannon is no longer responsible for the laundry. So we must also ask why there was a laundry basket in her room.”

  That sounded reasonable to me. “Go on, Shannon,” I said. “Tell them why you had my laundry.”

  All the color drained from Shannon’s face. She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I am sorry, Lady Beth,” she said. “But I cannot do that.”

  “Shannon! Don’t be silly,” I said. “Tell them why you have the laundry.”

  “I cannot,” she repeated. “But I swear to you on my life that I did not steal the Trufant locket.”

  “Shannon, I implore you once more to tell us everything,” Mr. Harrison said. “Otherwise, we will have no choice about how to proceed.”

  Shannon wiped a single tear from her cheek. “I understand,” she said, her voice scarcely more than a whisper.

  “Come, then,” Mrs. Morris said, looking deeply disappointed as she took Shannon by the arm. “If you pack now, James can bring you to the station in time for the four o’clock train.”

  “Wait,” I said. “Surely you’re not—Shannon, wait—”

  But Shannon didn’t even look at me as Mrs. Morris led her away.

  “Mr. Harrison!” I exclaimed. “What is the meaning of this? Why would James take Shannon to the train station?”

  “Lady Beth,” Mr. Harrison said. “You must understand the difficulty of this situation. I have no choice but to dismiss Shannon. How can I vouch for her innocence when she is hiding something from us?”

  “I know that she did not take the Trufant locket,” I said hotly. “And my parents will never let you dismiss an innocent person for a crime she didn’t commit!”

  I strode down the corridor and found my parents sitting together in the parlor. “A terrible injustice is under way!” I announced.

  Mother glanced up from the letter she was writing. “Beth, my dear, whatever is the matter?” she asked.

  “Mr. Harrison and Mrs. Morris have just dismissed Shannon,” I said.

  “We know, darling,” Mother said. “Mr. Harrison told us that the Trufant locket was discovered in Shannon’s room. I am sorry to hear that her guilt has been confirmed.”

  “But it hasn’t been confirmed,” I argued. “On the contrary, Shannon denies taking the locket. And I believe her.”

  “Well, I’m sure Mr. Harrison has his reasons,” Father said, without even looking up from his newspaper.

  “How can you say that?” I cried. “Shannon has done nothing wrong, and now she’s out of a job—sent away from her home—”

  Father finally looked at me. “Beth, Chatswood Manor is her place of employment first, and her home second,” he said. “If Mr. Harrison sees fit to send her away, so be it. I trust his judgment, and to second-guess him would be out of line.”

  “I know you’re fond of Shannon, Beth, but matters of staffing are the responsibility of Mr. Harrison,” Mother said gently. “It is not our place to interfere.”

  A hard lump formed in my throat. “This is wrong,” I choked out.

  “My poor Beth,” Mother said, her voice filled with sympathy. “I’m very sorry that something so unpleasant has happened on your birthday. Just put it from your mind.”

  “You don’t understand—” I began.

  “And I’ll see to it that Miss Dalton helps with your toilette today and tomorrow,” Mother promised. “I know how important your birthday festivities are, Beth. Don’t worry, my darling; you’ll look more beautiful than ever!”

  I shook my head and turned away. Right then my birthday festivities didn’t seem very important at all. Poor Shannon was being fired for something she didn’t do. It was very clear to me that Mother and Father would not intervene on Shannon’s behalf.

  Which left me no choice but to do so myself.

  From the parlor I went directly to the servants’ staircase, but with every step, I felt the pangs of my conscience. My heart was pounding like it always did when I thought of disobeying Mother. I could still hear her advice: “Matters of staffing are the responsibility of Mr. Harrison. It is not our place to interfere.”

  And I was sure that in nearly every circumstance, Mother was right . . . but not today. Today, Shannon needed me. I was the only one who could help her. So I took a deep breath and hurried down the stairs before anyone saw me.

  I found myself in a long corridor that was lined with dark-paneled doors. I pressed myself against the coarse wall beside the kitchen while I tried to determine where Mr. Harrison’s quarters were located. The air was perfumed with the scent of cake, and I could hear a great deal of clanging and banging—no doubt Mrs. Beaudin and the kitchen staff were hard at work in preparation for tomorrow. I shook the thought from my head, though, for this was no time to be thinking about my birthday party. I had to find Mr. Harrison before Shannon finished packing her belongings and departed Chatswood Manor—forever.

  But which one of the doors belonged to him? I had no choice but to try each one. At the first door, there was no answer. I stumbled into a bit of good fortune after I knocked at the second, for Mr. Harrison’s deep voice carried through the door.

  “Come in.”

  I slipped into his quarters and waited for him to look up from the ledger on his desk. When at last Mr. Harrison noticed me, he could not have been more surprised if His Royal Highness King George himself had appeared in the doorway.

  “Lady Beth!” Mr. Harrison exclaimed. He rose at once, his eyes wide with alarm. “What are you doing here? What’s happened? Has there been an accident?”

  I shook my head. “No, not at all; everything is quite all right,” I replied. “I mean to say—no, things are not all right.”

  “Come,” Mr. Harrison said, moving toward the door. “Allow me to escort you upstairs. We shall find your parents and—”

  “Mr. Harrison, wait,” I interrupted him. “I’ve come to speak with you about Shannon.”

  Mr. Harrison sighed. “Ah, yes—an unpleasant business. But you needn’t worry, Lady Beth. I can assure you that Mrs. Morris will interview candidates to replace Shannon as soon as possible.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said. “You see, Shannon is innocent, so there is no reason to dismiss her or to look for a replacement.”

  A look of relief crossed Mr. Harrison’s face.

  “That is welcome news, indeed,” he replied. “I thought it was unlikely that Shannon would do such a thing after two years at Chatswood Manor. In my experience, staff members given to petty thievery usually show their true character much sooner than that.”

  I clasped my hands together, delighted that Mr. Harrison understood. “Thank you, Mr. Harrison! Shannon will be overjoyed to learn she is still employed.”

  “I’m sure she will. Now, if you would just share the name of the guilty party, we can put this matter behind us,” Mr. Harrison said.

  My smiled faded. “I’m afraid I don’t know who took Lady Gabrielle’s locket,” I replied. “But there is no doubt in my mind that Shannon is innocent.”

  “Lady Beth, all the evidence points to Shannon’s guilt,” Mr. Harrison
said. “The stolen locket was found in her room. And Shannon herself was unwilling to explain why she had the laundry basket in the first place. Now, I will be more than happy to reinstate Shannon as your lady’s maid. But first I need proof of her innocence.”

  “I don’t have any proof . . . yet,” I began. “But I’ll find some, Mr. Harrison. I promise you. I won’t give up until I’ve uncovered evidence that will—”

  “You? Gathering evidence like a common detective?” Mr. Harrison exclaimed in shock. “No, no, Lady Beth, that would never do.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but Mr. Harrison kept speaking.

  “Your loyalty to Shannon does you credit. But as long as she is under a cloud of suspicion, there can be no employment for her at Chatswood Manor. Shannon is certainly not the first servant to be sent home in disgrace, nor will she be the last. The world is full of injustices, great and small.”

  My mind raced with worry. Surely there had to be a way to keep Shannon at Chatswood long enough for me to prove her innocence. But how could I convince Mr. Harrison to let her stay?

  Then I remembered the demanding way in which Gabrielle spoke to servants. Such rudeness would not come easily to me, but I could at least try to imitate her forceful manner.

  “Mr. Harrison, I will have Shannon here to do my hair for my birthday party tomorrow,” I announced. “She is the only one at Chatswood who knows how to style it exactly as I want.”

  “Lady Beth, I must insist—”

  “No, I must insist,” I interrupted him.

  Mr. Harrison looked at me intently for a long moment. “I will consider your request,” he finally said. “More than that, I cannot promise.”

  Relief flooded my heart. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Harrison! Thank you!”

  He crossed the room and led me back into the corridor. “And I trust, Lady Beth, that you will put the stolen locket out of your mind,” he continued. “You should not trouble yourself with such matters. Nor should you be downstairs. If you return, I will have no choice but to inform your father. I know that he would be deeply displeased.”

  “I understand, Mr. Harrison.”

  “Now, run along and enjoy the rest of your birthday, Lady Beth.”

  “Yes, Mr. Harrison. I will.”

  As Mr. Harrison closed the door behind him, I heard a loud whisper.

  “Lady Beth!”

  I turned to find Shannon beckoning to me from another doorway. She pulled me into a whitewashed room equipped with a narrow bed, a washstand, and a simple chest of drawers. There was a half-packed valise on the foot of the bed.

  “Shannon, is this your room?” I asked in astonishment, stunned by its plainness.

  “Lady Beth, what are you doing down here?” she asked, ignoring my question. “I overheard Mr. Harrison. You’ve got to get back upstairs before he leaves his quarters! Your father would—”

  I shook my head. “Oh, Shannon, I don’t care about that,” I told her. “The important thing is that you’re innocent—and I’m going to prove it. I’ve asked Mr. Harrison to let you stay to help me get ready for my birthday party, and we can use the time between now and then to clear your name.”

  “Lady Beth, you have a kind heart,” Shannon said sadly. “And I do appreciate it. But I’ve accepted my fate. There is no choice for me but to leave Chatswood Manor.”

  “But where will you go?”

  “Home, I suppose,” Shannon said, holding the Saint Anthony medal between her fingers. “I won’t be able to find another position in service. No one wants to hire a thief.”

  “Then how will you provide for yourself?”

  Shannon didn’t answer as she placed some folded handkerchiefs in her valise.

  “You shall not be punished for a crime you didn’t commit,” I said firmly. “If you’d only tell me why you had the laundry basket in your room—”

  “I cannot.”

  We stared at each other for a long moment. I could tell from the redness around Shannon’s eyes that she had been crying.

  “Please, Lady Beth,” Shannon continued in a shaky voice. “Go upstairs. Enjoy your birthday. Don’t give the Trufant locket—or me—another thought.”

  I grasped her hands in mine. “You’ll see, Shannon,” I promised. “I’ll clear your name. I swear it.”

  I slipped out of Shannon’s room and scurried upstairs as quickly as I could. After my conversation with Shannon, I was even more determined to find out the truth. I had made a promise to her—and I was going to do everything in my power to keep it.

  Though the scandal of the Gabrielle’s locket hung over us like a heavy cloud, Shannon took extra pains with my toilette for my birthday dinner. After she helped me select a gown of midnight-blue silk adorned with tiny silver beads, she spent close to an hour brushing my hair. Then she pushed it back from my face with a blue velvet headband, and as a special finishing touch, she tucked an iridescent peacock feather behind my ear.

  In the dining room, Cousin Gabrielle sat across from me. I noticed that she did not seem very pleased to be reunited with the Trufant locket, which gleamed around her neck. I was more suspicious than ever that she had been involved in its mysterious disappearance—but how could I find out for sure?

  “You must be so relieved to have your locket back,” I said pointedly. “I know that it’s very dear to you.”

  “Yes,” Gabrielle said. “I am sure that you are also relieved to know that your lady’s maid is a thief and to have her out of your service before she stole from you as well.”

  Anger surged through me, but I remembered to keep my temper. If Gabrielle was indeed involved, I’d have to tread carefully to catch my cousin in a trap of her own making. I turned my attention to the other end of the table, where Uncle Claude was prattling on about his favorite subject.

  “The signs are clear,” Uncle Claude said. “Answer me this: Why would the Germans spend so much on their military if they weren’t preparing for aggression? If Kaiser Wilhelm isn’t a warmonger, he has a strange way of showing it.”

  “I will grant you that,” Father conceded. “Perhaps he wants to be prepared for any future conflicts, now that France and Russia have formed an alliance.”

  Uncle Claude seemed offended. “We have no choice but to become allies!” he exclaimed. “It would be a scandal to sit by, unprepared, while our neighbors assemble an army on our doorstep.”

  “You know, there are scandals closer to home that are just as captivating,” I spoke up.

  All eyes turned to me. My mouth was suddenly so dry that I could barely speak, but I forced myself to go on.

  “For example, this scandal involving my lady’s maid, Shannon. A kinder, more loyal soul you’ll never meet. And yet someone saw fit to frame her for a crime she didn’t commit.”

  Across from me, Gabrielle dropped her fork. It clattered on her plate.

  “Beth,” Mother said in her warning voice.

  But I pressed on. “Who would do such a thing?” I continued. “Another staff member? Or perhaps one of our many visitors?”

  A rapid stream of French spewed from Uncle Claude; Father spoke at the same time.

  “Young lady, your mother and I specifically told you that this matter is not your concern,” he said sternly.

  “On the contrary, Father, it concerns us all,” I said as politely as I could. “If Shannon didn’t take the locket, as she claims, then someone else must have. And if that someone—a thief, I might add—remains under the roof of Chatswood Manor—”

  Gabrielle suddenly put her hands to her head. “Maman, I am unwell,” she said in a trembling voice. “I wish to lie down at once.”

  Across the room, Mr. Harrison discreetly rang for Helena. She appeared in the doorway a moment later.

  “Beth, you have upset your cousin,” Aunt Beatrice said. “She already succumbed to a sick-headache this afternoon, and I can tell from her pale color that it has returned.”

  “But isn’t it more upsetting to think that a thief walks free through
the halls of Chatswood Manor?” I pressed on. My eyes followed Helena as she hurried to Gabrielle’s side. “That there could be a thief among us, right here in this very room?”

  Helena jolted when I spoke—and overturned a crystal pitcher of water! Ice and lemon slices tumbled across the table as water soaked the tablecloth.

  “Clumsy!” Gabrielle shouted as she backed away from the table so that the water wouldn’t touch her gown. But in the process, Gabrielle knocked over her chair, which landed on Bertram’s foot!

  “Ow!” he yelped before clasping his hands over his mouth. In his haste to move away from Gabrielle’s chair, Bertram then slammed into the table!

  “Mind the candles!” Mother cried.

  Mr. Harrison leaped forward to steady the trembling candelabra. At the same moment, he managed to cover the water stain with a large cloth.

  “If this is how you Brits manage something so simple as a family dinner, perhaps you’d best stay out of the war,” Uncle Claude barked.

  “I am very sorry, Lady Gabrielle,” Helena muttered.

  “You ought to mind your pointy elbows, you oaf!” Gabrielle snapped.

  “Gabrielle!” Aunt Beatrice said reprovingly.

  “Oh, ma tête,” Gabrielle moaned, burrowing her head in her hands. The anger on Aunt Beatrice’s face was immediately replaced with concern.

  “Helena, take Gabrielle to her room,” Aunt Beatrice ordered. “Make sure she has anything she desires.”

  “Of course, madame,” Helena said as she guided Gabrielle from the room.

  The flurry of activity continued as Bertram and the other footmen cleared the mess from the table.

  “Lady Beth, I sincerely apologize for this dreadful chain of events,” Mr. Harrison said. “We will do everything in our power to restore dignity to your birthday dinner.”

  “Mr. Harrison, it is quite all right,” I said, grinning as I watched the spectacle going on around me. Indeed, I couldn’t be happier. It was clear to me that Gabrielle and Helena were hiding something about the disappearance of the Trufant locket. Now I had no doubt that exposing their secret would be the key to saving Shannon’s position.