by Adele Whitby
Essie bustled about our rooms, making our beds and examining our dresses for any hint of a wrinkle or a loose thread. We had barely finished breakfast and bathed before it was time to dress.
Elizabeth dressed first. I followed her and Essie into her bedchamber. Before Essie even had a chance to fasten the tiny seed pearl buttons that ran up the back of the dress, Elizabeth began to twirl to show off her flounced skirt.
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the original portrait turned up before the wedding?” she mused. “Alfred will be heartbroken if it’s not returned. He’s such a fine young man; I would hate to see him unhappy.”
“I’m sure that’s Anna’s wish as well,” I said. “Who do you think might have tried to frame her and Samuel?”
“I can’t imagine. Everyone we’ve encountered seems delighted with the match.” She stopped twirling long enough for Essie to begin on her buttons. There must have been a hundred.
“Even Samuel,” I said, “despite his misgivings about Uncle Willem. He does want his mother to be happy.”
“I do think he’s mistaken about Uncle Willem,” Elizabeth said. “He has been nothing but friendly with Anna, as far as I can tell, and he made such a lovely toast last night.”
“He may have some insight into who took the portrait, though,” I said. “Maybe if I share my notes with him, he’ll be able to shed some light onto what might have happened to the original. And he’s the one who designed and built Vandermeer Manor. He would know more than anyone else about these hidden passageways.”
Elizabeth stood back so that we could admire her in the dress.
“You are a beauty, Lady Elizabeth,” Essie said. “But your hair isn’t! How is it that you manage to get it so tangled in your sleep? If I didn’t know better, I’d think elves came in the night to make more work for me,” she teased.
Elizabeth sat at her dressing table, looked in the mirror, and giggled. Her hair was indeed a sight. “Now that we know you’re Irish, Essie, I’d say it was leprechauns.”
“I wish we could blame the missing portrait on leprechauns,” I said with a smile. “While you’re doing my sister’s hair, Essie, I’m going to look for Uncle Willem. It would be nice to have this matter settled before the wedding.”
I ran downstairs and checked the parlor first in the hopes that the portrait had been returned, but it had not. Uncle Willem wasn’t there. Nor was he in the library, but one of the footmen said he had just gone to his quarters to get ready for the wedding.
Back upstairs, I entered the wing with the family’s rooms. I found Uncle Willem’s door ajar. He was giving instructions to someone, no doubt his valet, about his white tailcoat. I was about to knock when the voice of the man who answered him sent shivers down my spine.
It was the same deep voice I had heard in the night—the one in the secret passage that spoke of a portrait.
Uncle Willem’s valet had something to do with the theft of the painting!
I backed away from the door and the voice. Why would Uncle Willem’s valet have been sneaking around in the middle of the night, talking about portraits? And who was his accomplice?
I knew I must tell Uncle Willem right away, even with that horrid man in the room. I was trying to find the courage when Essie found me.
“It’s time to dress, milady, or you’ll be late for the wedding,” she said.
“But I have to talk to—”
“Whatever it is, it can wait,” she said. “You don’t want to hold up the wedding ceremony, not after all that’s happened.”
“But—”
At that moment, either Uncle Willem or his valet noticed the door was ajar and closed it firmly. My news would have to wait until after the ceremony. I just hoped the valet didn’t have any other tricks planned to stop the wedding.
Alone in my room with Elizabeth and Essie, I told them what I had discovered.
“Have you gotten to know Uncle Willem’s valet at all, Essie?” I asked. “Do you have any idea why he would do such a terrible thing?”
Essie shook her head. “He seems like a good worker, but I haven’t seen much of him. I assume that Mr. Vandermeer must demand a lot of attention. The valet—Abbot, I think his name is—is quite friendly with the head housemaid. I see them whispering a lot. And yesterday they had a definite quarrel.”
“Do you know anything about her?” I asked.
“She arrived at Vandermeer Manor on the day Willem Vandermeer moved in,” Essie said. “She’s quite proud about that and tells anyone with ears to hear her. Started as a scullery maid and is now the head housemaid.”
I felt more confused than ever. Why would a valet and a housemaid try to stop the wedding? The only thing left to do was speak to Uncle Willem.
Papa knocked on our door then and told us it was time to join the wedding party. I took his arm. “Elizabeth, you’re absolutely stunning,” he said.
My sister, Elizabeth, took his other arm. “And you, Katherine.”
Elizabeth’s eyes danced with amusement. I agreed with a slight nod not to point out our dear papa’s mistake.
“Thank you, Papa,” I said. “I’ve missed you. You’ve been so busy with Uncle Willem and Cousin Henry that we’ve hardly seen you.”
“I’ve missed you, too, my dear. Weddings remind me that my time with the two of you is precious,” he said to my sister and me. “As soon as the festivities are over and things calm down, the three of us are going to have a long talk.”
“And a walk on the beach?” my sister asked.
Papa laughed. “Yes, Katherine. I see you’ve changed your mind about the ocean. We’ll go for a long walk on the beach and see if we can spy any dolphins.”
We entered the parlor to join the wedding party. I hated to see the blank space on the wall where Mrs. Vandermeer’s portrait had hung, but Alfred seemed calm and happy. He and Maxwell stood together, chatting.
We rushed up to them, giggling about Papa’s mistake.
“Why don’t we continue the charade?” Maxwell said with a grin. “Alfred can walk down the aisle with Lady Elizabeth. And I’ll walk with Katherine.”
“That’s a splendid idea,” Elizabeth said, clapping her hands. “We’ll fool everyone here.”
I looked away so that Maxwell would not see my blush. He followed my gaze to the blank space on the wall.
“I know you must be disappointed,” he said. “I’m sure the Vandermeers can find someone to make a copy of the copy—one that isn’t damaged. Alfred will have that, at least.”
“But I have discovered something more—” I began.
I was about to share my latest news when Anna walked into the room on Samuel’s arm. The bride was truly beautiful, glowing with happiness and wearing a dress that belonged in one of my fairy stories.
Henry Vandermeer couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“My darling,” Anna said, looking into his eyes. “I am so happy.” Then she turned to Uncle William and raised her hand, as if to take his arm.
Uncle Willem stepped back and shook his head. “I’m sorry, my dear. I cannot walk you down the aisle.”
Samuel stepped forward, his hands balled into fists.
“Whatever do you mean, Uncle?” Henry Vandermeer asked.
“I am not worthy of such an honor,” Uncle Willem answered. “I am deeply ashamed to tell you that I am responsible for all that has happened the past few days. I was the one who wished to stop the wedding.”
Nearly everyone in the room gasped—everyone except Samuel. His eyes flashed with anger. “I knew it,” he said.
Henry was genuinely perplexed. “But you weren’t even here the day the portrait disappeared,” Henry said.
“I don’t understand, Uncle Willem,” Alfred added.
Uncle Willem explained that he had had a copy of the portrait made. His valet had stayed behind at Vandermeer Manor instead of traveling to Providence. He knew all of the manor’s secret passageways, and along with the help of the head housemaid, had removed the origi
nal and placed the defaced copy in Anna’s closet. In fact, the housemaid had stolen some paints from one of the other servants to deface the copy herself.
“I made sure you thought my valet was in Providence with me, but in fact he simply kept to my quarters and the secret passageways while I was away. He was able to slip in and out of the parlor while the rest of the house was occupied. It was the work of a moment.
“I was going to put the original portrait back in its place after all the excitement had died down and I was sure the wedding wouldn’t take place,” he continued.
Anna was pale and trembling. “Why would your staff do such a thing to me? To Henry and Alfred?” she asked.
“They’re loyal to me, and I paid them well for their efforts,” Uncle Willem admitted. “I do apologize, Henry. It was a terrible thing to do.” He turned to Anna and Samuel. “I owe you an even deeper apology.”
“I still don’t understand,” Anna said. “Why would you try to destroy our happiness?”
“I thought you were marrying Henry for his money. Why would an independent woman, one who wants to have a career as a writer, marry for any other reason? Money and position in society—that’s what I thought you wanted.”
“But Henry and I love and respect each other,” Anna said quietly. “That is our reason for marrying. I would never marry for money.”
“I see that now. I saw it when you forgave Henry so readily and so lovingly yesterday afternoon. I saw it when you lit up with happiness to know that the wedding would take place after all. I hope you can forgive the prejudice of an old man who is a bit perplexed by this modern world.”
Henry and Anna exchanged a quiet look.
“Of course I can, Uncle,” Anna said, kissing him on the cheek. “As long as you can assure me that the portrait of the first Mrs. Vandermeer will hang in the parlor long after Alfred is married and grown old himself.”
“I’ll have it taken care of immediately,” Uncle Willem said.
He excused himself to see to it, but we were still left with the question of who would walk Anna down the aisle. Papa was suggested and Samuel. But Anna had another idea.
“Why don’t we walk each other down the aisle?” she suggested to Henry.
He agreed that it was a splendid notion.
The bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up.
Cousin Maxwell, with a twinkle in his eye, held out his arm to me.
I heard Papa comment as we passed by. He had slipped into the last row of seats, next to Essie, just as the processional music began. “Lady Elizabeth and Lord Maxwell make a handsome couple, do they not?”
Essie’s eyes danced. She could tell us apart even when Papa couldn’t. “Yes, milord,” she said. “They do.”
I stood across from Maxwell, listening to Anna and Henry pledge to love and honor each other forever. He stared into my eyes for a moment and then looked away, his cheeks red.
As we filed out after the now married couple, he whispered in my ear, “The bride left the word ‘obey’ out of her wedding vows, Katherine,” he said. “Did you notice?”
“I did,” I whispered back. “She replaced it with the word ‘cherish.’ Much nicer, don’t you agree?”
The wedding reception was fit for royalty, with a lavish meal, a full orchestra, and lots and lots of dancing.
Cousin Maxwell and I took a break from the dancing to walk through the gardens. We had a long talk about Miss Millhouse—I had given him two of Louisa Branson’s published stories to read the night before—and about the scary Mr. Poe. I promised to give his stories a try.
We had just joined the party again when I noticed that even the ocean seemed to celebrate the marriage. The waves were gentle and didn’t overpower the orchestra with a fierce roar. Midway through the afternoon, a school of dolphins saluted the couple by leaping and dancing to the music.
After the wedding cake was served and the guests began to leave, Elizabeth and I sat on a small garden bench to catch our breath while Maxwell and Alfred went to get us some punch.
Elizabeth’s eyes followed Alfred as he stopped to greet one of his father’s guests and then caught up with Maxwell again.
“I’m going to miss America when we go back home,” she said quietly.
“That’s weeks and weeks away,” I said.
“Yes, but still . . .” Her voice trailed off.
I watched Maxwell make his way back toward me, his eyes bright. When we returned to England, I wouldn’t see him every day as I did now.
“I’ll miss it, too,” I said. “I love Chatswood Manor, but America is splendid. I’m glad we’ll be here for a few weeks more. Let’s just hope we don’t stumble across any more mysteries to solve,” I said.
Elizabeth laughed. “Or maybe we should hope that we do.”
“Voilà!” Madame Lorraine exclaimed as she stepped away from the dais. “You may open your eyes, Lady Betsy.”
My breath caught in my chest. For weeks, Madame Lorraine, the famous Parisian dressmaker, had been working on a custom gown for my twelfth birthday ball—which was less than a month away! And now the gown was nearly ready; all that was left for Madame Lorraine to do was add the trim. I kept my eyes shut for another second to savor the anticipation.
Then I looked in the mirror.
Was that really me looking back?
My new ball gown was the most gorgeous dress I’d ever seen. It was the color of the sky on a summery day; Madame Lorraine had ordered the shimmery silk charmeuse fabric all the way from China. The gown had capped sleeves and a fluttery skirt that hit just below my knees. Madame Lorraine’s creation was more gorgeous than I’d imagined it could be. And it wasn’t even finished yet!
I shivered—just the tiniest bit, really—but Mum noticed, of course, like she always noticed everything.
“Have you taken a chill, Betsy?” she asked, nodding at the goose prickles on my bare arms.
“A little,” I replied. “But mostly I’m excited!”
A knowing smile crossed Mum’s face. “Of course you are,” she said. Then she nodded at my new lady’s maid, Maggie. “But perhaps it is a bit too drafty in here for a fitting.”
Mum didn’t need to say another word; Maggie immediately crossed the room to close the windows. The April sunshine was so bright and cheery that we’d all wanted to enjoy it through the open windows without giving much thought to the chill in the morning air.
“It’s coming along beautifully, Madame Lorraine,” Mum continued. “What a lovely silhouette! So very modern.”
“Merci, Lady Beth,” said Madame Lorraine. “Have you and Lady Betsy selected the embellishments?”
“Yes, we have,” Mum replied. “We adore the velvet ribbon, but the satin ribbon will be more appropriate for the season. And while the purple beads have a lovely sheen, they don’t hold a candle to the gold ones. Nellie, would you please fetch them?”
“Certainly, milady,” Nellie, Mum’s lady’s maid, replied. Madame Lorraine had brought an entire trunk of trim with her—rolls of ribbons in every color, sparkling beads and rhinestones, and silk flowers more delicate than anything in the garden. It had been almost impossible to choose! In the end, though, Mum and I had both agreed that the shiny satin ribbon and sparkly gold beads would be just the thing to complement the gown—and the Elizabeth necklace, a precious family heirloom that I would receive on the day I turned twelve.
Every firstborn daughter in my family had been named Elizabeth in honor of my great-great-grandmother Elizabeth, who had been born almost one hundred years ago. We took different variations on the name “Elizabeth” for our nicknames—I went by Betsy, for example, while my mum went by Beth—but we were all Elizabeths, just like her. But there was even more to the family legacy than our names. There was the Elizabeth necklace.
When Great-Great-Grandmother Elizabeth turned twelve, she received a stunning gold pendant in the shape of half a heart, which was set with brilliant blue sapphires. Elizabeth’s twin sister, Katherine, had received a nearly
identical necklace, but it was set with fiery red rubies instead. The necklaces weren’t just beautiful; they were deeply significant to each twin, since they were carefully chosen by their beloved mother, who died just a few months before their birthday. Their mother didn’t live to celebrate their birthdays with them, so the special gift she left for each of them became their most cherished possession.
When the two pendants were put together, they formed a single, whole heart, which was a perfect symbol for Elizabeth and Katherine, as they were almost never apart. But after the girls grew up, family obligations forced them to separate. As the slightly older twin, Elizabeth had been pledged to marry her cousin, Maxwell Chatswood, in order to keep Chatswood Manor in the family. Meanwhile, Katherine had fallen in love with Alfred Vandermeer, and shortly after marrying, they emigrated from England to America, where her new husband founded Vandermeer Steel. The family lived in the beautiful and stately Vandermeer Manor, overlooking the ocean in Rhode Island. That’s where my cousin Kay Vandermeer Wilson, Katherine’s great-great-granddaughter, lived today. Kay and I weren’t just cousins; we were best friends, even though we’d never met. We had so much in common—we both loved Hollywood Hello magazine (me for the articles about radio plays, Kay for the photos of movie stars), dogs were our favorite animals, and our birthdays were just a month apart. And in two weeks, Kay and I would finally meet when she and her parents—Aunt Kate and Uncle Joseph—arrived in England to help celebrate my birthday! I already knew that meeting Cousin Kay for the first time would be the very best birthday present of all.
And to make things even more exciting, Mum and Aunt Kate had promised to tell Kay and me a secret on my birthday. A big secret that had been in the Chatswood family for generations. For months now, Kay and I had been trying to find out what it was. But neither Mum nor Aunt Kate would say another word about it. The suspense was driving us mad!