by Adele Whitby
I closed my eyes as Great-Grandmother Katherine stepped behind me. One moment passed . . . two . . . three . . . and then I felt the Katherine necklace resting against my chest, a weight my heart would gladly bear.
I opened my eyes to see everyone looking at me: Father and Mother beaming proudly; Aunt Katie and Great-Aunt Kathy’s eyes moist from their own memories of receiving the Katherine necklace; even Alfie’s grin looked genuine for once.
Then there was Beth, wearing a wavering smile as she tried to discreetly wipe away a tear. My cousin didn’t need to tell me how much she missed her own great-grandmother at that moment. Her eyes said it for her.
Great-Grandmother Katherine must have noticed too. “Beth,” she said suddenly. “Please join us.”
Beth rose from the table and walked to the front of the room. Katherine faced us and held our hands.
“It has been a long time since the Elizabeth and Katherine necklaces were together,” my great-grandmother said. “Too long. It is right that today we can admire them as they were meant to be: side by side.”
There was a pause before she spoke again.
“Sometimes, though, there are forces that keep the necklaces—and those who wear them—apart,” she continued. “Duty. Responsibility. Love. Sometimes those forces act in ways we don’t understand. In ways that break our hearts. In ways that keep us far away from the people who are dearest to us.”
Great-Grandmother Katherine stared straight at me. “There is no burden so heavy as a long-kept secret,” she said. “It weighs more with each passing day. And there is nothing that can entirely heal the ache of longing for one’s homeland. If Beth stays at Vandermeer Manor, she might never return to England, to Chatswood, to home. She might never see her parents again.”
Beside me, Beth stiffened slightly. I looked into my great-grandmother’s eyes and thought: How does she know about our plan?
“You are standing on a threshold, Kate,” Great-Grandmother Katherine said. “As you begin the journey into adulthood, let the Katherine necklace, and all the love and wisdom of those who wore it before you, guide your steps.”
Great-Grandmother Katherine released our hands. “Enough pomp!” she declared. “I understand that Mrs. Hastings has outdone herself in the preparation of today’s tea. Far be it from me to delay us any longer.”
Beth and I slipped into our seats at the table as Anton and Emil wheeled in the tea carts. One was laden with eight individual pots of tea, along with tiny pitchers of cream and plates of sugar cubes that had been stacked into pyramids. The other cart was piled high with food—and, best of all, a tray of cupcakes, each one topped with a flickering candle.
Father began singing in his deep baritone voice. Everyone else joined in at once, and I blushed with pleasure to hear them all sing the “Happy Birthday” song to me. I closed my eyes as I tried to decide what I should wish for. The first wish I thought of—I wish that we could all be together forever—somehow seemed wrong, especially in light of what Great-Grandmother Katherine had said. So at the last moment, I changed my wish.
I wish we could always be as safe and sound as we are right now.
Then I took a deep breath and blew out the candles—every last one.
Beth stood up. “Kate, this is my birthday present to you,” she said as she handed me the gift. When I opened it, I found a framed photograph of a portrait hanging on a wall.
“That’s our great-grandmothers in the portrait,” Beth explained. “It hangs in the parlor at Chatswood; I asked Father to take a photograph of it with his new camera. No one could remember if any of the portraits of the twins had made the journey to America with Great-Great-Aunt Katherine. So I wanted to bring one with me—as best I could, anyway.”
Everyone crowded around to see.
“I remember sitting for this portrait,” Great-Grandmother Katherine said. “It was painted not long after our twelfth birthday. What a wonderful thing to see it again after all these years.”
“Thank you, Beth,” I said. “It’s perfect.”
While Anton and Emil served us, I glanced between the photo and the Katherine necklace. It was so strange to see the necklace sparkling against my dress; to realize that now I was wearing it, just as my great-grandmother had when she was twelve years old. I vowed then and there that I would wear it every single day until it was time to give it to the next Katherine in our family, whoever she may be. Perhaps Alfie’s daughter, or perhaps even my own!
Throughout tea, I noticed that Beth was quiet. Afterward, we wandered through the halls to the East Wing.
“We should take a peek inside,” I said. “Do you think it’s locked?”
“Kate,” Beth began.
I kept talking, as if my chatter could stop Beth from saying what was in her heart. “Just to make sure it’s a fitting place for you to stay.”
“Kate.”
“Of course, Vandermeer Manor has seventy-five rooms, so if those in the East Wing are not to your liking—”
“Kate.”
Beth took my hands in hers.
“Kate, I can’t stay,” she said. Beth was hoarse, as if the words were sticking in her throat.
“I know,” I whispered.
“If I never went home again . . . if I never saw Mother and Father . . .”
“I know.”
“My whole life, I have missed my great-grandmother. I couldn’t bear to inflict such pain on my own parents. They have called me home, and I must go to them. But I will come back,” Beth promised. “And someday you’ll come to me! Chatswood Manor is as much your history as it is mine, Cousin Kate. You should see it with your own eyes. You should sleep under the same roof where Elizabeth and Katherine grew up.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak without crying.
“This war—if there is a war—it won’t last forever,” Beth said. “We will be together again.”
“Yes,” I finally said. “I know.” I tried to smile, but I felt like my face would shatter. As much as I wanted to believe Beth, I was haunted by what had happened to our great-grandmothers. Once they had parted, they had remained apart for the rest of their lives.
What if the same thing happened to Beth and me?
An expression of urgency filled Beth’s face. “Do you remember?” she asked. “From Essie’s journal—the chant the twins used to say, when they put their necklaces together?”
“I think so.”
“We’ll do it now,” Beth said. “Right here, to seal our promise that we will be together again.”
I nodded my head and lifted the half heart of the Katherine necklace into the air. Beth faced me and did the same with the Elizabeth necklace.
“I am Beth, and I love my cousin Kate,” Beth said solemnly.
“I am Kate, and I love my cousin Beth,” I replied.
“Forever,” we said at the same time.
A beam of sunlight shone through the window. It reflected off the rubies and sapphires, sending red and blue lights dancing across the wall.
Then a thin shiver crawled down my spine. I had the oddest feeling . . . that someone was listening nearby. . . .
Beside me, Beth rubbed her arms, which were covered with goose bumps.
“Do you feel it?” I whispered. “Like . . . like there’s someone . . . here?”
“I do,” Beth whispered back.
“Maybe it’s the ghost.”
“I wish it were Great-Grandmother Elizabeth.” This time, Beth’s whisper was so faint I wasn’t sure I’d heard her correctly.
“We haven’t finished the ritual,” I replied.
Without speaking, we slid the half hearts together until they formed, at last, a single, whole heart.
Click. Click. Whirrrrrrrr.
The sound of a clockwork mechanism—the spinning of miniature gears—the creaking of a little-used hinge—
A tiny, unseen panel opened in the back of each heart.
A handful of confetti fluttered to the floor.
For
a moment, neither of us moved.
Then I reached down, scooped up the snippets of paper, and together Beth and I walked hurriedly to my bedroom. My heart was thundering in my chest—and not just from how quickly we walked.
“What is it?” Beth asked.
My fist was trembling as I carefully unclenched my fingers. The yellowed papers drifted into a pile on my vanity table.
Beth lifted one up to the light. Squinting her eyes, she said, “There’s something written on it . . . a letter R, I think.”
“This one has an E,” I announced as I examined another one.
“I have an A!”
“Another A! And a T!”
When we finished sorting the scraps of paper, Beth and I had found twelve in all: three R’s, two A’s, two E’s, and one each F, P, O, V, and T.
“It’s a message,” I said. “All this time, there’s been a message hidden in the necklaces, and no one knew!”
“But what does it say?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “We’ll have to unscramble the letters to figure it out.”
We spent several silent minutes moving the letters into different arrangements but were no closer to deciphering the message than when we started.
“What if it’s a code?” Beth suddenly suggested. “What if these aren’t individual letters that form a message—but each one is an initial for a word?”
“But there must be thousands of possible words,” I replied. “How would we ever figure that out?”
“We probably wouldn’t,” Beth said.
“It could even be a clue,” I said. I swapped the T for the P and was about to move the R when there came a knock at the door. Quick as a wink, Beth covered the slips of paper with Essie’s journal.
It was Nellie. “Sorry to bother you, ladies, but I was wondering if . . .” Her voice trailed off as she noticed the Katherine necklace. “Oh, Kate,” she breathed.
“Would you like to see it?” I asked.
Nellie traced her finger along the smooth edges of the half heart. “The most stunning jewels I’ve ever seen,” she declared. “Those rubies! They sparkle like the sunset on the ocean. Kate, it suits you well. I’d say you were born to wear it.”
“Thank you,” I replied, beaming.
“Now, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I was wondering if there’s anything you need,” Nellie said.
A frown flickered across Beth’s face as she glanced at the clock. “Nellie, where is Shannon?” she asked bluntly. “I’m going to need help packing, and I think I’d like to take a bath before my journey.”
“I can certainly help you, Lady Beth,” Nellie replied, dodging Beth’s question. “It would be my pleasure. And if you’d like, we could try the cider-vinegar rinse I use on my hair.”
“If it’s half so nice as the pomade you made, I know I’ll love it,” Beth said. She squeezed my arm as she rose from the vanity table. “I’ll be back soon.”
“I’ll keep working on the puzzle,” I said.
Alone in my room, I slid the letters across the table. The V caught my eye. V-E-R . . . but there was no Y, so the word wasn’t “very.”
Then I spotted the other E. E-V-E-R spelled ever.
It was a start.
I kept swirling the letters—the P, the A, the other R’s—until I’d finally formed two words. But my thrill of triumph turned into a stab of disappointment when I realized what I’d spelled:
APART FOREVER.
No, I thought.
But there it was, staring at me plain as day. And though I hated to admit it, there was a terrible truth in those cruel words, because Katherine and Elizabeth had indeed been apart forever after my great-grandmother set sail for America.
Just like you and Beth will be apart forever after she leaves. The horrible thought ricocheted through my mind before I could stop it.
“No,” I said aloud. With a sweep of my hand, the words disappeared, leaving a trail of scattered letters.
“Miss Kate?”
I jumped in my seat. The voice that called my name sounded faraway, almost ghostly. But when I spun around, I found Shannon standing in the doorway. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and she wore an anxious expression. “Sorry to disturb you, but do you know where I might find Lady Beth?”
“I believe Nellie has drawn her a bath, and then they’ll pack her trunks,” I told her.
Shannon sighed in relief. “Very good. Thank you.”
“You must be glad about the change of plans,” I said.
“Beg your pardon?” Shannon asked, confused.
“Leaving early,” I explained. “I know you’re worried about the ghost. I imagine it will be a tremendous relief to depart in the morning.”
Shannon’s whole face seemed to crumple. Then, to my surprise, she began to cry!
“Shannon!” I exclaimed as I jumped up from the bench. I rushed to close the door, then led Shannon over to the comfortable armchair by the wardrobe. “What’s wrong?”
Shannon took a deep breath to steady herself, but her chin was still trembling. “I’m—I’m—I’m in love!”
“In . . . love?” I asked in disbelief.
Shannon nodded miserably. “With Hank, the chauffeur, Miss Kate. We—we spent the day together, yesterday and today, and . . . and . . .”
“Hank?” I repeated. I suddenly remembered the way Shannon had blushed when she stood close to him and the way Hank had flinched when he heard that she and Beth were leaving early. Of course, I thought. But what I said was, “Go on.”
Shannon smiled through her tears. “He’s the one for me,” she said simply. “I never dreamed that I’d feel this way about anyone. And now . . . now I have to leave . . . and we’ve only just met. . . .”
Shannon covered her face with a handkerchief as she wept.
“There, there,” I said as I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Shannon, if you love him, you should stay.”
There was a long pause while Shannon tried to compose herself. “If it were that easy, I would,” she replied. “But Lady Beth must return to England, and I’d never send her on such a journey all by her lonesome. I’d never abandon her like that.”
An idea was beginning to unfurl in my mind. “And if . . . ,” I began, “someone else could accompany Beth home. Someone we know and trust, would you stay?”
Shannon looked at me with shining eyes. “Yes, I would,” she said. “Hank has my heart, always.”
“You sit,” I said as I crossed my room for my bottle of rosewater tonic. I splashed some of the fragrant liquid on a washcloth, then pressed it to Shannon’s blotchy, tear-streaked face.
“No, Miss Kate,” she said as she tried to pull away. “It’s not right. I should be tending to you.”
“Now, now, none of that,” I said. “I have an idea, Shannon—an idea that might solve everything for you—but we’ll have to act fast. So when you’re ready . . .”
I offered Shannon a clean handkerchief. As she listened to my plan, she dried her eyes. Once I was finished speaking, Shannon took a deep breath and nodded.
“Then come with me,” I said.
We found Beth and Nellie in the blue guest room. Beth was just out of the bath, wrapped in a velvet dressing gown while Nellie carefully combed all the tangles out of her long hair. “I don’t know how you do it, Nellie,” Beth was saying as she stared in the mirror. “My hair’s never been so smooth and shiny before! There’s no frizzy bits at all! The waves in my hair look as calm as the ocean on a clear, warm day.”
“All those years of battling with my own curls have finally paid off,” Nellie replied with a laugh.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I began. As quickly as I could, I explained Shannon’s predicament.
Beth rose at once. “You can’t leave, Shannon. You can’t,” she said firmly. “I won’t have your heart broken on my account.”
Shannon shook her head stubbornly. “I can’t send you off all by yourself,” she said, just as determined as my cousin.
Everyone looked at me.
“What if you and Shannon were to switch places?” I pressed on. “She could stay here and be my lady’s maid and . . . and maybe there would be another garden wedding at Vandermeer Manor before too long. And Nellie, you could accompany Beth to England and take Shannon’s position at Chatswood Manor. Just think, you’d see your birthplace again after all these years and meet your grandparents and your cousins at long last.”
I looked at Nellie, who had yet to say a word. “But only if you truly, truly want to,” I finished. “I couldn’t bear it if you made the trip with a reluctant heart.”
“Oh, Miss Kate,” Nellie finally said. “I have no family here. I have no sweetheart. I have nothing but my fondness for you and your family. This is—this is—”
I held my breath as I waited for Nellie to finish.
“This is an opportunity I never dreamed to have,” she said. “Yes, yes, of course I’ll go, gladly. Though I have to be honest, Miss Kate. I’ll miss you more than I can say.”
I leaned forward and gave Nellie a hug. “And I, you,” I replied, feeling the first prickle of tears in my eyes. “But you’ll write to me, won’t you, Nellie? And—and you’ll see me again. Because I’ll come to Chatswood Manor as soon as Mother and Father let me. I swear it.”
“And you’ll bring Shannon, I hope,” Beth spoke up, her eyes welling up and her voice cracking. She walked over to her lady’s maid and embraced her. “These are mostly happy tears, but I’m going to miss you terribly,” she said.
“Of course I’ll bring Shannon!” I said. “Now, we’ve got to hurry. There’s so much to do—Shannon, I think it’s best tomorrow if you stay out of sight until we know the ship has sailed. That way, no one will be able to interfere—”
“But surely Mr. and Mrs. Taylor will find out,” Shannon said, a hint of worry in her voice. “What then?”
I shrugged. “I bet we can keep this under wraps for a while. You and Nellie look enough alike that it would be some time before anyone even noticed a switch, what with you wearing Nellie’s maid’s uniform. All you’d have to do is tone down your Irish accent a bit. By the time Mr. Taylor figured things out, everyone would know that no harm was done by making the switch. Now, Nellie—you’d best start packing—”