Charlock's Secret

by Leah Moyes

  I laughed aloud.

  21 September 1878

  A most unusual encounter happened last night when the thunderstorm brought Miss Katharine out from her room in the middle of the night. She was restless and distraught. It had been some time since I have seen her this besieged. At first, I believed it was due to the storm, but it wasn’t until I calmed her in the ballroom, I learned the actual reason for her anguish. She lost the man she was to wed. The gentleman she claims was her heart and soul. I had assumptions, but never imagined the degree of her pain. I disclosed my own haunting of Peter and hoped it brought some consolation that we shared similar remorse, but nothing can truly undo a tragedy. I can only hope that my friendship can somehow be of comfort to her.

  I knew Merritt’s heart was uncommon, but to read his very thoughts on paper was unequaled.

  23 Sept 1878

  I revealed a deep confidence tonight. It was not prearranged and although it could have devastating consequences if ever divulged; I do not regret allowing Katharine to know of it. She of all persons, having recently faced such inhumanity in her own country, appears to comprehend my reasoning and share my beliefs. It is a relief to not repress the burden alone, but even as I pen this here, I may never confess its true nature to another beyond her.

  The slaves . . . I had not realized this secret was shared with so few.

  28 September 1878

  Mother is not well. Although she keeps her shaky appearance hidden behind her lovely countenance, I am grieved as to the extent of her ailment. Miss Katharine noticed my concern one afternoon at tea, and in her most observant ways, whispered kind words to me. She reminded me of the connection a mother has with her child, a bond that will never break through separation. Her insight is unparalleled. Though mother’s condition is not my only trepidation at this time. A confidant shared with me some concerns over Margaret’s father, the senior Mr. Abbott and a questionable business affair. Having only been acquainted with them since their arrival to the area only a couple of years ago, I feel our knowledge of their history is inadequate. When I spoke to father about this, he insisted they are merely rumors and the union will proceed to solidify our families and our prosperity.

  18 Oct, 1878

  My first entry in two weeks. I cannot begin to tell you what has occurred. I fell off of Captain, my most esteemed horse. Thankfully, he did not experience any prolonged injury as I have. I was unconscious for an undetermined amount of time, and since my injuries were near fatal, the wedding plans were postponed. Miss Abbott returned to her family’s residence while I rehabilitated. I would have preferred her presence at my side during this most burdensome time, but she had great difficulty seeing me in such a wounded state and vowed to return upon my recuperation. I fear complete recovery will never occur. I may always require the use of my walking cane.

  At the time I awoke, Miss Abbott shared a horrifying recollection that has me quite perplexed. Her face bore the mark of a ghastly offense. She was bruised and bled from what she says was at the hands of Miss Katharine. Miss Katharine, the governess! Margaret relayed the details after my fall, insisting that Katharine attempted to assault me most disturbingly when Captain had not completed the task. Then, when Margaret attempted to protect me from further harm, she was attacked maliciously by Katharine. I am severely troubled by this disclosure; I have no knowledge to contradict its truthfulness. My conscience tells me this cannot be factual, knowing what I do about Miss Katharine, but unfortunately, she has left our employ. She is gone, and I have no inkling where I may find her.

  Tears formed at the corners of my eyes. The memory of that day, the horror of seeing Merritt lifeless and the subsequent fear of being turned out, filled my chest with a horrific panic.

  21 Oct 1878

  My dear sweet Abby shared some particularly appeasing news to me this afternoon. At the time of the incident in the field, Lizzy went to fetch father after my fall, while Abagale remained behind. She was most vexed. She described the scene as a painfully disturbing sight with me lying lifeless in the grass. She was not clear on everything, however, she told me with perfect clarity that Miss Katharine breathed life into me . . . that I had not taken my own breath until she acted and pushed on my heart screaming for me to live. Abby hesitated to tell me that Margaret's injuries were sustained due to her attempt to stop Miss Katharine from performing her miracle work on me. This enlightenment was both comforting and disconcerting equally. I knew in my heart that my dear friend Katharine could not cause such injury, but I realized simultaneously that my bride to be had deluded me. What I was to do with this information I did not know. I had a responsibility to not disobey or disappoint my father, but how could I live with such distrust and lack of integrity?

  02 Nov, 1878,

  Oh, sweet sorrow and joy filled my soul today. I tracked the whereabouts of Miss Katharine and spoke plainly with her. I found her in the village of Kemble. She is now employed by the Attwood’s, a respectable family, however they have no children residing at home, consequently, she could not possibly be teaching. I told her of our wishes and our desires for her return. The girls are quite brokenhearted with her absence. She was naturally bitter and reserved with the circumstances. It was only recently that I had discovered father was the one who relieved Katharine of her duties here at Charlock, the night of the accident. It was troublesome, but father himself seemed astonished to hear Abby’s testimony, being misinformed to the facts. Whatever his faults, he is still my father.

  Fortunately, I confessed my apologies to Katharine, in which I think I may have been successful. But this was the most astounding part. She was not alone . . . she, my truest love . . . was there. Right there with Katharine! I don't know how; I don't know why her very presence evokes an everlasting pain and torture upon my soul. The very radiance I have lacked since the day we said goodbye four years ago. My cherished Johnna. She was there, I touched her hand. She did not speak, but I could feel it, there was still a tenderness to which I yearn for. I was thrilled and torn, I soaked in her enchanting presence, but had to remind myself aloud this was in error . . . I could not allow myself to even entertain the notion of ever seeing her again. How can I possibly endure this . . . how can I now marry Margaret? I would be living a lie. A marriage of deceit, and both parties guilty of it.

  16 Nov 1878,

  I did it! I confessed my love for Johnna to Katharine. She accepted our invitation to dine and after supper last night she regaled me with an evening stroll. It was then that I expressed my truest emotions. I LOVE JOHNNA! It is liberating to say this over and over. However, I am tormented with fear. How do I divulge this knowledge to my father? How do I cancel my contract with Margaret? He would be most disappointed. I could humiliate him and could cause undue hardship and pain, and how would Mum take the news/ She appears weaker and is spending more time with doctors than she ever has. How could I break her heart? But how could I live a lifetime of unhappiness? Katharine had much to say and was quite convincing. It is apparent she is well versed with significant loss, having lost her own betrothed to an accident. She expresses a great deal of passion for love, pure and honest love. It is this very love that I yearn for with Johnna and only Johnna!

  17 Nov, 1878

  She is gone.

  Miss Katharine, my dearest confidant, somehow relinquished letters to the girls and I, letters bidding a somber farewell. This has been a day full of tears for us all. The profound emptiness we acknowledge exceeds all other matters of mind. In our brief association, she has . . . among many things, altered our lives forever. I was moved with her words. She instilled the very courage I need to do exactly what I know is the right decision.

  Tomorrow, straightaway, I will go to London and meet with father to explain my intentions. Margaret is staying with an aunt in the city, and I shall visit her shortly thereafter. I will face the possibility of a fallacious reputation, but that is the risk I am willing to take. I cannot or will not continue to deny what my heart and spirit know to be rea
l. By the end of the week, my intentions to Johnna will be known. If she will have me, I will spend the rest of my earthly life proving my unceasing affections for her.

  The tears that had balanced carefully on my lower lashes now rolled a steady path down my flushed cheeks. After my return and frantic research, I knew that he had done just that . . . married Johnna. Exactly how I had always believed, but there was nothing like this. Hearing his heart describe his innermost thoughts and especially how much our intimate talks had affected him, I was overcome. I slowly closed the book. Trenton remained still the entire time. It seemed no words were appropriate enough for either of us.

  After several minutes of silence, I spoke up. “How did you know I was the Katharine he referred to?” My chin hung low and eyes diverted away in case I misunderstood his intention of sharing.

  “It was unbelievable, actually. I just knew,” he whispered. “I have read this journal many times, I knew the stories, the details, but it wasn’t until after you left that everything you said suddenly clicked.” When I peeked up, he met me with a pained expression. “I’m sorry, Kat.” With honest regret in his voice, he repeated. “I am truly sorry.”

  The realization he no longer doubted me sent a surge of liberating emotion through every part of my body. The very idea that someone finally believed my ridiculous story was unparalleled assurance. My gasp came loud and filled with relief. I fought the desire to curl up and cry, but Trenton wasn’t finished.

  “That last entry there . . . that letter,” Trenton pointed to the journal. “The letter you wrote to him is framed on the wall next to the grand portrait. Kat, you changed my family’s destiny!” His face flushed with admiration, but astonishment held my tongue. How could I have possibly missed it? I knew there were clusters of frames that bordered the portrait, but how did I miss that one? I attempted to stand and find it.

  He held out his arm and gently asked me to wait. “There’s more” My eyelashes blinked sluggishly, barely able to comprehend it all.

  “I remembered from the tour what you said about Abby's dolls . . . that she hid them in a panel in her bedroom. The room had been papered and painted a dozen times since 1878, so it took some time, but . . .” My eyes grew big in suspense as he exclaimed, “I found it Kat!”

  “The panel?” I cried. “The dolls?”

  “No—”

  “No?” Defeat and confusion prevailed.

  “Well, yes, I found the panel and the dolls, but this . . . I found this!” Trenton handed me a fragile, bulky paper covered in dust and folded into quarters. “This was also found in the crevice.”

  I reached for it. On one side, in childish letters, the name Miss Katharine was scratched in faded ink. I unfolded it, and my heart pounded intensely as I pulled out a long silver chain with a diamond ring attached. My ring—Jeff's ring! Suddenly overcome, I lunged unexpectedly out of my seat and onto Trenton's lap. My arms flung around his neck and squeezed.

  “Thank you,” my voice quivered, “thank you so much.” The chain looped tightly through my fingers. Its presence was inconceivable. Trenton’s hands wound around me to soothe my shaking torso. The warmth he radiated, blazed through me, and sparked a dormant nerve. Several seconds passed before I realized my body still conveniently rested on his lap.

  “I’m sorry.” I quickly jumped to my feet and grinned awkwardly. “I didn’t expect to see this again.”

  Trenton gazed upon me. His emerald eyes were free of judgment. “No apology necessary, believe me, had you been there when I found it, I probably would’ve jumped onto your lap.”

  I chuckled, then watched his countenance grow serious. “I told you once you could tell me anything, and I failed you,” he sighed. “Forgive me. I’m sorry it took proof for me to believe you.”

  “Don’t.” I insisted, shaking my head. “You believe me now and honestly because of this . . . I believe me now.”

  I knew I was standing, but my limbs felt numb. It was like having an out-of-body experience as close as anyone has described one to be. Trenton’s proximity allowed him to slip his hand into mine. My fingers tingled as he led me back inside the house. When he spoke, I could hear bewilderment in his voice. “I always thought I understood my legacy better than anyone. Both my father and my grandfather didn’t even cherish Merritt’s journals the way I have, but after all this time, it took a feisty little Yank to time travel in my own house to set my head straight.” He laughed out loud. “Who would’ve thought?”

  When he squeezed my hand, the assurance of the moment surprised me but comforted. With admiration, I peered at him. Now, this is the Trenton I like.

  “I don’t know how to thank you.” I let go of his hand and held the chain up, allowing the diamond to sparkle against the light. “Tonight, has been amazing, and truthfully, that word doesn’t reasonably fit—maybe life changing is more appropriate.”

  “You and I both.” He paused, “and please no need to thank me. Through this strange path of events, it was meant to be found.”

  Standing at the bottom of the stairs, I glanced at the portrait and let his words sink in. Had our roles been reversed, it’s certain I would’ve reacted the same way.

  “Would you share their story with me?” Trenton asked. “All of it. From the moment you arrived, to what you must’ve been thinking, to . . . everything!” His sudden excitement struck a chord.

  I bit my lip, thrilled that I could speak so honestly with someone about an encounter I thought I never could. “Actually, the entire experience was bizarre. I even considered the idea that I was insane, that maybe I literally lost my mind and was living it in my head. Possibly even in a psychiatric facility somewhere. I cannot tell you what a relief it is to know that I’m not whacked.”

  He matched my laugh again. “No, you’re not whacked. With no tour tomorrow, would you mind joining me for the day?”

  My smile widened, “I don’t mind, I’d love to tell you. Your family is truly incredible, and I miss them a lot.”

  Without recognizing it, he escorted me to my room.

  “Thank you again, Trenton, for everything. I had no idea coming back would be like coming home.”

  He smiled with a subtle bow. “Goodnight, Kat.”

  Chapter Forty-four

  I pulled the chain from my tightly gripped fist the moment my eyes opened. I slept with the jewel firmly imprinted in my palm, unable to let it go. The diamond caught the natural light and shone as brightly now as the moment I put it on for the first time. Unclasped, I wound it around my neck. With one long exhale, I finally felt whole again.

  As I dressed for the day, I tried to comprehend the sudden change of events. The previous evening could not have been more perfect. With an enormous smile on my face, I reflected on the sequence starting with the dinner—the cancellation of the sale, the journal entries, and ultimately the necklace. Me not being crazy, came as the biggest relief, but Trenton’s own transformation seemed to play a significant role.

  Stepping out into the hall, the fresh array of flowers nearby tickled my nose. The yellow petal of the charlock glistened in a vase near the windows. I chuckled over the change, recalling Gretchen’s past words, “Mr. Gilford does not like the charlock in the house.” Apparently, he does now. I roamed past the rooms and towards the grand entry, hoping everything that occurred the night before was not imagined.

  Standing at the base of the stairs, I peered up, recognizing my good fortune to witness that very portrait being painted. It was the morning after the lightning storm, when Merritt had stayed with me part of the night, making sure I found peace.

  I ascended slowly, towards the mezzanine, my eyes unable to shift from his face. He is no longer here. I reminded myself. He’s only a memory. Though Merritt had a stunning smile, it remained hidden in the portrait as he stood handsome and stately.

  I recalled the many times he leaned in at the supper table to talk about America, politics, and social injustices, careful to not be overheard. My sight shifted to the elder Mr.
Gilford, rigid in countenance but tender in touch. His hands rested on his wife’s shoulders. Martha sat elegantly in her exquisite gown. Her mouth curved only slightly, but the kindness in her countenance shown through. Both girls grinned incessantly. Abagale’s sweet face came to mind when she surprised Margaret and me in a heated conversation during their break. Her interruption most likely prevented me from pummeling the foul beast. I laughed out loud. I enjoyed that memory more than I should.

  Hesitating before the artwork, my eyes swung wide to the right. Ever so shadowed by the glorious mount, a collection of smaller gold frames had been meticulously positioned. The top one bore a hand-written letter. It was my handwriting. It really was the letter I wrote Merritt right before I returned. I lifted it from the wall and inspected it closely. Tinted and fragile, the paper’s condition concealed many words, but it was authentic. My fingers brushed across the glass as tears filled my eyes. Oh, how I wished I could see them again.

  Immersed in thought, I initially didn’t see an audience to my heartache. Movement at the railing above caught my eye as Trenton shifted from the second floor and descended towards me. His smile ignited a remote spark from within. A nerve that I believed, no longer existed, surged throughout. It surprised me, even scared me, and the closer he came, the faster my heart thumped.

  “Would you walk with me this morning?” He asked with one hand extended.

  I didn't have to say anything, the light in my eyes answered for me. I replaced the picture frame and met his extended hand as he guided me down the stairs and towards the kitchen where Helen met us. She handed Trenton a garnished basket of fruit and laid a small folded blanket over the same arm. He thanked her, but her smile and wink were entirely for me.