by Leah Moyes
“They are beautiful, Lizzy,” I announced, rightfully jealous. “It will be a hard decision.” Her face fell, discouraged.
“But this can wait for at least a couple of hours,” I announced strategically. “I’ve made arrangements for you, Abby, Merritt, and your mother to forget about the ball and the preparations for a brief time today and have a picnic.”
Her face lit up. “Truly?” She cried.
“Yes! And they’re waiting for you out front.” I grabbed her arm and guided her down the hall and towards the stairs.
“How on earth did you pull mum away from her responsibilities?” Lizzy quizzed. I relished silently as I recalled our conversation not more than twenty minutes ago. It was much harder than imagined . . .
“Mrs. Gilford?” I tried not to startle her as she worked tirelessly in the study. She was a perfectionist with an impressive talent for organization, so I knew exactly where to find her. The master list for the daily duties gripped in her hands.
“Yes, Miss Katharine?” Her eyes never left the paper when she spoke.
“I know you don't know me very well . . .” That sounds so cliché. I started over. “In a previous job, I managed a large estate . . .” I fought my desire to smile. Realizing when I spoke, I referred to this estate. “I directed a small staff and all the responsibilities associated with that position, including considerable public events.” She stopped and eyed me carefully. We both appeared unsure of where this was headed. “May I assist you?”
“That is unnecessary, Katharine.”
“I—”
She cut me off. “You may assist me by redirecting the girls out of the path of the laborers.”
“How about you do that?” Oh crap! I clenched my teeth. I didn't mean for it to come out that way. Typical Kat!
Stunned, her lower lip dropped a bit out of place. “With all due respect,” I blurted, “your daughters miss you.”
“Pardon me?” Her perfectly smooth face hardened in an instant. I needed to act fast.
“I'm sorry. I didn’t go about this the right way.” I stumbled over my sentences to get them out before she fired me. “I prepared a picnic basket for you and your children to take a break from the preparations of the ball and spend a casual afternoon together, away from here.” Her eyes gradually relaxed as I continued, “I don't always say things correctly, but I only meant to do something nice for you as a way of saying thank you. Thank you for having enough faith in me to teach your daughters.” With her full attention now, the anger disappeared. “If you trust me with your children, you can trust me with your home.”
She paused. Her expression reflected a serious consideration of my offer. “I miss my mom, Mrs. Gilford. I haven't seen her in a long time.” My words were honest. “Your family is here, and they love you and want to be with you. Please tell me what needs attention in your absence, and I’ll gladly see it through.” She studied me carefully. Her eyes, though tired, lifted at the corners as her mouth raised into a simple smile.
“Yes, Miss Katharine, I think your suggestion is . . .” she hesitated, “warranted.”
I grinned widely in response and placed one hand gently over hers, “Everything is ready, and you can leave at once.”
Earlier that morning, I launched my plan into motion by first speaking to Merritt. Thrilled with the idea, he quickly arranged the transportation. With permission in the scullery, I used my foregone deli skills to create a delicious lunch. Inside the thick wedges of granary bread, I placed sliced pork, fresh cut lettuce, and tomato, and added chunky pieces of bacon on top. Generous swirls of onion remained on the side.
Once the Gilfords were all in the phaeton, you could see that this was exactly what they needed. The smiles and laughter resonated as they made their way down the road.
I sighed with relief when they disappeared. Maybe I can't stop life's events from happening, but I could definitely fill them with memories.
That night at supper, everyone's individual stresses took a back seat, and the spirit at the table floated light and refreshing. The interaction between Mrs. Gilford and her children appeared renewed, followed by a never-ending exchange of smiles. I even got a few nods directed my way from both Merritt and a much subtler one from Mrs. Gilford.
Later, when Ana came to check on me before bed, she lingered well after her duties were complete. The way she shifted awkwardly around the room led me to believe she had something to say.
“Ana, it’s okay. You should know by now; you can say anything to me.”
“Miss?”
I patted the bed. “Come on, let’s talk.” Her expression shifted between fear and temptation. I jumped up, closed the bedroom door, and pointed to the bed again. “It’s okay. Come sit, like two friends.”
She grinned faintly and moved towards the edge but didn’t sit. “Miss Katharine, the girls and I are perplexed.”
“Girls?”
“Um, the other maids.”
“About what?”
“You’re not like other governesses.”
“Yeah.” I lowered my head. “I’m figuring that out.”
Ana touched my arm. “But we like it.”
I met her eyes. “Really?”
“Yes.” Although we were alone, she still glanced around. “I didn’t understand at first. Why they allotted a special allowance to you like dining with the family and attending church.”
“What do you mean? I’m not supposed to eat with them?”
She shook her head no. Heat swelled in my cheeks. What have I done? Should I have known this?
“Why didn’t someone tell me?” I whispered to myself, yet loud enough for her to hear me.
“It was peculiar at first, but since your arrival—” She struggled to find the right words. “—well, the family appears . . . more cheerful.”
“They do?”
“Yes. Especially Elizabeth and Abagale, and when the girls are pleased, the maids are as well,” she giggled. It was the first time I’d seen her this relaxed.
“But if I’m not supposed to be doing these things with them, what should I do now?”
Ana finally sat on the bed. Her forehead wrinkled before she spoke. “Nothing.” Her confidence built. “Amend nothing. It seems Milady is pleased with your instruction, and Mr. Gilford doesn’t fret about the domestic affairs much.”
I weighed her words with careful consideration. “Ana?”
“Yes.”
“Can I ask you a special favor?”
“Certainly.”
She had proved herself trustworthy to me in this small act of kindness. “Well, as you may have noticed, I’m not quite versed in wealthy family protocol. Would you please let me know anything else I might not be doing right or doing wrong?”
“Like . . . clothing?” she whispered.
I rolled my eyes as Ana opened the lower drawer of my wardrobe and pulled out the additional attire I had tried to hide. “Stays should be worn. It’s proper.”
“Ahh.” My head fell into my hands. “Really?”
“Yes.” She laid all the clothes out in the correct order along the bed. I glanced at each piece and sighed. Since the possibility of returning to the future faded more and more each day, I knew she was right.
“Okay. Will you come and help me dress in the morning?”
“Of course.” She smiled in sync with her delicate curtsy. “It would delight me to assist.” and left the room happier than when she entered.
I slipped into my nightgown—my favorite short one—justified in the privacy of my room and dropped to the wide bench next to the window. The night sky glowed with stars and nothing to challenge their presence, like a streetlamp or a skyscraper. And even though I knew they were the same stars shared in both Arizona and New York, they dazzled like I’d never seen before. It could be the era, but it may have been more about the moment.
Movement below drew my eyes away from the spectacular sparkle. A shadow shifted beneath my window. Merritt’s recognizable physiq
ue and profile surfaced as he hustled from the house and slipped swiftly through the gardens. I narrowed my sight to track him, but he hastily disappeared.
Imitating a similar tone Mrs. Gilford might use, I whispered, “now what business would provoke a proper gentleman to leave the manor at this hour?” Then I chuckled. “So many secrets with this puzzling Merritt,” I scanned the darkness and closed the drapes, “but innocent, he is not.”
Reaching for the toothbrush Ana had given me, I shoved the coarse nylon bristles in and scrubbed. I had been using linen until now, so even though it irritated my gums, I was grateful for something more effective. Ana was quick to point out that I should be pleased the Gilfords no longer use the birch twig and charcoal. For the record, I would’ve never used charcoal. After I spit, I hung over the basin and realized I knew so little about this time, and this family.
At the time of my fall, I was aware of the family journals in the library. Martha Gilford’s mother produced several books prior to the birth of her grandchildren. Martha herself had one from her childhood, and two from adulthood. Only one of which I had read before Mr. Chill chained me to my accounting task.
Oh, yes, my real job. My thoughts wandered to my employer. What could he be thinking now? He most likely had shown up prompt and ready to work the next day and found I had disappeared. Did he try to find me or simply chalked me up as one less problem and moved on? Could I possibly be the only person to experience this in Charlock? Has anyone else vanished? Or am I trapped in an extreme condition such as a psychotic breakdown in a mental hospital somewhere? So many questions with a lot less answers.
I peeked out the window one last time through the drapes, wondering if Merritt had returned or if he stayed out for the night. It’s none of your business, Kat! I repeated that statement several times in my head. He’s a grown man and can sneak out if he wants to . . . but why should a grown man have to sneak out of his own house? A playful banter fluctuated back and forth in my mind and ultimately stirred a curious nerve.
Sliding into bed, I smiled at the idea of a mystery—one that I might thoroughly enjoy digging up. If anything, it would help take my mind off my own puzzling situation.
Chapter Seventeen
September 1878
The dress was exquisite. I could not take my eyes off of it. Lizzy always bounced when she walked, but while she danced effortlessly around my room, the gown appeared to float in the air.
“Lizzy!” I exclaimed. “I think you picked the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen. You’ll look sensational.” I grinned, unable to look at anything else.
“Ha,” Lizzy giggled. “This is not mine, it's yours.”
My chin dipped in unbelief. “No, I—”
“I couldn't convince Papa to purchase one of Mr. Worth’s gowns for you, so I’m giving you my most favorite one from the last trip to London.” She sighed, “it’s not the latest cut, but it still has a lovely silhouette.” She appeared saddened, as if she let me down. Lizzy truly was one of a kind. I don't remember being that sweet at 16 or . . . ever actually.
“It really is for me?” Words finally formed.
“Of course, silly, it’s for you.” She laid it across the bed, displaying its full glory.
“I—I don't know what to say.”
Her hands went to her hips. “What attire did you presume to don tonight?”
I hadn’t planned on going to the ball, but I didn’t want her gesture to appear unappreciated. I spit out a quick thank you.
“I have everything covered.” Her hand squeezed mine. “You’ll look lovely.” Her eyelashes batted softly.
How can I say no? I sighed, defeated. “Will it fit me?”
Lizzy laughed again, “That’s what these are for, love.” She held up a corset. “The stays make everything fit.”
Or fall out. I added silently. I had a little more curve up top than she did.
“Chelsa is on her way up to assist you. I will be in my room if you have cause for anything.” Lizzy gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and disappeared.
I stared long and hard at the dress. Can I do this for her? Her efforts to make me feel welcome did not go unnoticed. I couldn't hurt her feelings, but could I really be around all those people? Socializing? Dancing? Talking? Is it possible? A ball is not exactly a place for hiding . . .
“Miss?”
I motioned for Chelsa to enter. Ready or not, I was to be her very own dress-up doll. I can do this for Lizzy. I repeatedly chanted in my head. Chelsa, Abby’s maid, was livelier and more talkative than Ana, and that made the entire experience quite spirited.
After my bath, I stood before the full-length mirror as she adjusted all the varying parts, the parts I carefully avoided until recently. The knickers, to the crinoline petticoat, even the corset, and finally the dress. Intricate deep blue lace lined a swooping neckline that cascaded barely off my shoulders. The cobalt colored satin that made up the rest of the dress was the most magnificent color I’d ever seen. The front fell straight to the floor, but the backside extended out in layers that formed a petite train. It unfurled a couple of feet beyond the beige-colored set of slippers, similar to ballet shoes, provided by Lizzy.
My reflection dazzled. It left me motionless, partly because I could hardly breathe, and partly because of the transformation.
“How in the world do people move in these? I feel like I’m wearing a bedspread.” I commented louder than planned. Chelsa laughed, but continued adjusting and fidgeting, then moved onto my hair and face.
Sweeping my hair from the back and rolling it into a loose bun, she used jeweled combs to secure it in place. Then using a tool shaped like tongs right from the fire, she carefully curled the wayward strands, from both my bangs and the nape of my neck, into perfectly coiled ringlets. Next, she mixed ingredients together in a small dish and dabbed a light blue tint to line my upper eyelids. One that matched my dress. Then added a pale rose color to my upper cheekbones and a clear pomade to my lips. For the first time since I arrived, color accentuated my face and appeared both elegant and subtle.
As Chelsa applied the finishing touches, Abby walked in. More serious than Lizzy, she loved to come into my room often to ask questions. She still wore her day dress and held her favorite doll, Anabelle, as she jumped up on the bed.
“Ooh, Miss Katharine . . . you look lovely.” She sighed and rested her head on her propped-up hands.
“Thank you, Abagale.” I faced her. “Don’t let your mother see you with that.” I cautioned, pointing to her doll.
Abby smiled, “I took her out after mum went downstairs.” She referred to the loose panel in her bedroom wall, where she hid all of her dolls. I laughed as Chelsa finished fixing a disobedient curl.
“Wait, why aren’t you dressed yet?” I asked while I awkwardly moved towards the one window that faced the front of the house. A steady stream of carriages lined the path.
She giggled as she came to my side to see the sights, “Miss Katharine, I am not yet of age.”
“Age?”
“I’m only 11, remember?” She said this as if I knew English protocol. “Miss Katharine?” Her small hand pointed to my neck. “That is a pretty necklace, is that a ring?”
I instinctively pinched it. “Yes.”
“Where did you get it?” Her inquisitiveness reminded me of when I was younger.
“From someone special.” Moving back to the mirror, I fondled the jewel tenderly as I gazed at the image in front of me. I nearly didn't recognize myself.
“Merritt has one of those.”
“One of what?” I asked, still distracted by my reflection.
“One of those rings.”
“An engagement ring?” I spun around so quickly she jumped. “Oh, sorry Abby, I didn’t mean to scare you . . . I, um, I’m only surprised by what you said. A diamond ring like this?” I lifted the chain up.
“Yes, he showed it to mum at the picnic. It's bigger, but I like yours.” She spoke frankly. With little lung space to
begin with due to a tight-fitting corset, my breaths dispersed like fragmented coughs.
I knew he would marry Johnna. Again, something I covered day after day in the tours, but why so soon? Why did it have to happen while I’m here? The very thought of Merritt gazing dreamily at someone the same way Jeff would at me seemed hard to bear, though I had no right to feel slighted.
“When did he ask her to marry him?”
“I don't know, but I heard mum say he will announce it tonight.” Small beads of sweat formed on my nose as I reached for the edge of the chaise nearby. I sat as best I could with the amount of material that cushioned my butt. Why is this difficult? Is it that the ball is now an engagement party? A pending wedding . . . or Merritt? I wasn't even sure if I knew the answer myself.
“Are you well?” Abby pressed her nose against mine.
“Yes—yes, I am.” I kissed her cheek then brushed the moisture away with my palm. “I’m fine.” I pulled out my best fake smile. The one I called my game face. Whenever I felt lousy but pretended nothing was wrong, my game face emerged. I had used it so often in the last year; it had become second nature.
“Are you going down now?” Abby asked excitedly.
I nodded. Abby held my hand as we left the room, but the closer I got to the grand staircase, the slower my feet moved. Abby huddled to a far side near the railings so she could have a view without being viewed. Her wide grin should've been comforting enough, but the moment my shoe touched the first step, I stopped, terrified.
Chapter Eighteen
I hoped to slip unnoticed down the grand staircase, but it would have been an impossible feat. Its size, and the fact that it’s the first thing everyone sees upon entry, brought forth a new desire. To not trip or fall down the stairs in front of half of the county.
I descended slowly. A small assembly gathered at the base, including Mr. and Mrs. Gilford, as they greeted each of the incoming guests. Fortunately, most everyone had turned away—except one. When I reached the second to last step, a hand stretched forth to assist me the final way. Merritt's warm smile and approving eyes greeted me as I peered up. He, I'm sure, knew I was completely out of my element.