Mother didn’t need any further encouragement. She tugged the string free and removed the paper to expose a small, cloth-covered box. We all gasped when she removed the lid to reveal a gold encased emerald pendant strung on a delicate gold chain.
“Your father’s latest venture must have done very well,” Mother said, breathlessly.
She lifted the chain and let the pendant dangle in the sunlight. It almost seemed to glow with a light of its own.
“It’s beautiful,” Kellen said.
“Help me put it on. I want your father to see me wearing it when he returns.”
Kellen stood and helped Mother ease the chain over her hair then rearranged her braid prettily to lay over one shoulder.
“There,” she said, moving back.
The sunlight, streaming in through the window, reflected against the stone; and an unnatural green light flashed in Mother’s eyes briefly as she looked at me.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“You’ve never been more beautiful,” Kellen said when I hesitated.
She smiled and blinked heavily.
“I believe this gift overexcited me. I need to rest for a bit.”
She didn’t rest, though. She exhaled loudly, her lids half closing.
“Mother?” I said, standing to touch her face. “Mother?”
She didn’t respond.
“I don’t think she’s breathing, Eloise,” Kellen said softly.
Chapter Two
“Anne!” I screamed as Kellen put her head on Mother’s chest.
Anne came running into the room, her skirts lifted to her knees.
Kellen straightened, looking at the woman.
“I can’t hear her heart beating.”
A moment of silence gripped the room, and a heavy weight settled on my chest.
The expression on Anne’s face shifted from fear to grief to a carefully composed mask. She went to Mother and set her head to chest for a moment before facing us.
“Your mother’s gone,” she said softly. “We all knew the tincture wouldn’t work forever. Your mother, most of all. She asked me to give each of you a message when the time came.”
She stepped close to Kellen and wrapped my sister in her arms.
“You are my moon. When you look at the stars, know that I’m watching you and love you always.” Kellen didn’t wrap her arms around Anne in return, but it didn’t stop Anne from pressing a kiss to my sister’s temple.
My throat ached when Anne released Kellen and looked at me.
I welcomed her hug, and her message from my mother.
“Take care of your sister,” she whispered. “Your light will need to burn brightly for both of you in the days to come. Know that I love you. Always. Know that I am with you when the sun touches your skin, and hear me in every songbird’s voice.”
I hugged Anne in return.
“Thank you.”
When she was done, she sent us from the room.
“Send Judith to me. We will care for Margaret.”
Kellen and I didn’t speak as we went to the kitchen. I didn’t have the words necessary to break the numb state of disbelief that entombed my mind.
“Mother is gone,” Kellen said calmly. “Anne will need your help bathing her.”
Judith stared at us in shock for a moment before she went running.
Kellen went straight for the door, and I followed in her wake.
We found Hugh was in the stable, oiling the leather fastenings of the carriage.
“Mother is gone,” Kellen said. “You will need to fetch a coffin. We will bury her the day after tomorrow.”
Hugh removed his hat, his expression filled with sorrow.
“My condolences, Kellen. Eloise.”
I nodded at him, took my sister’s hand, and led her down the drive to the path we always took when we needed to escape, even just for a moment.
Neither Kellen nor I spoke until we reached the ridge.
“It wasn’t time,” Kellen said in a flat voice, her eyes dull.
I stared off in the direction of the castle, my mind still numbed with a reality it seemed unable to process. Mother was dead. Gone forever. She was the reason we both still lived at home. The reason we never entertained thoughts of marriage.
She’d been sick as long as I could remember. A weak constitution many a learned doctor had said. Yet, I’d thought she would live as long as any other because we cared for her so well. Kellen and I had both expected to care for her until our hair turned grey with age.
In a single moment, everything had changed.
“What will become of us now?” Kellen asked, almost as if reading my mind.
I wrapped my arm around her waist and held her as she set her head on my shoulder. I hurt more for the pain I knew she struggled to contain and thought of Anne’s message from Mother. Kellen needed me to be strong.
The front door slammed. I jumped at the loud noise, and Kellen looked up in surprise from the needlepoint she was pretending to do.
Since we’d returned from the ridge the day before, a hush had stolen over the house. No sisterly banter. No echo of Mother’s laughter. Nothing but sitting and waiting to lay Mother to rest. No one would call on us during the seven days the house was in deep mourning. We’d ensured our privacy to grieve by draping the front door with black, as was custom, to warn away callers. After seven days, the gossipmongers would start to arrive to offer their condolences and glean what information they could from our misery.
Feeling the spark of my temper ignite at the loud intrusion, I stood and went to the hall.
The sight of Father standing in the entry, shaking out his jacket stunned me. He turned to find me staring at him and smiled widely, his eyes lighting with joy.
“Eloise! There you are. Come see what I’ve brought you.”
I stared at him in confusion at the very typical greeting. Surely he’d seen the black draping on the door.
“Father, did you not—”
Kellen’s hand settled on my shoulder.
“Hello, Father,” she said.
“Kellen, my heart. You look lovelier every time I return. I brought you something special. Just what you need.”
He reached into his coat and withdrew two paper packages. Kellen’s was a small square. Mine was long. At least the length of my forearm.
“Let’s sit in the parlor so we can open them,” he said.
Kellen’s fingers twitched on my shoulder.
“Perhaps your study, Father,” she said as he started toward us.
“Nonsense. The parlor is where you always open gifts.”
I glanced at Kellen, unsure what to do.
“He’s not ready,” she said softly.
I stepped forward to intercept him.
“Father, there’s something you should know about Mother.”
He stopped to place a kiss on my cheek.
“She has died, Eloise. We have not. She would not like us to act like we did.”
With a fatherly pat on my shoulder, he walked around me and entered the parlor.
On a higher level, I knew what he said was pure truth. Yet, his words fell like a hammer to my heart. A whisper of noise and twin intuition told me Kellen still stood just behind me.
“Remember, some are better at hiding what they truly feel.”