Riverbreeze: Part 2 (22 page)

Evelyn stood there, dumbfounded while Elizabeth put the ring back in the little pouch, then the pouch into the chest on top of all the linens and clothing. It occurred to Evelyn that they hardly knew anything at all about Robert’s and Jamie’s pasts. She made a mental note to take some time to ask Jamie about it later.

“Does Jamie have any scars on his back?” Elizabeth asked out of the blue as she started to walk to the opposite corner of the room.

Evelyn gasped. “How did you know?” She asked, watching Elizabeth suspiciously. What had Robert told her last night?

By this time Elizabeth was at the other side of the room, in the corner where she knelt down, stopping for a moment to look over her shoulder at Evelyn. “Has he told you how he got them?”

“No.” Evelyn said, feeling a twinge of jealousy again. Elizabeth even knew about Jamie’s scars when Evelyn didn’t! “I asked him about them, but he didn’t want to talk about them. We had just finished making love and he said he would tell me later after we ate breakfast, but then after breakfast they had to leave.”

“It was that nasty half-brother of theirs.” Elizabeth said, turning back to the corner. She started to pry up the loose floorboard.

“Their brother gave him those scars?
What
are you doing?” Evelyn asked, hurrying to Elizabeth’s side.

“Look.” Elizabeth said in a whisper. She pulled out the wooden box and stood up. “Come to the window.”

Even though clouds still filled the sky, the light was better at the window. Elizabeth slowly opened the box and Evelyn gasped when she saw the ruby and diamond necklace.

Elizabeth smiled. “Is it not magnificent?” She said. She tilted the box back and forth to highlight the depth of color in the blood-red rubies.

Evelyn raised her wide eyes to meet Elizabeth’s. “This was his mother’s also?”

She asked totally in awe.

Elizabeth nodded, her face as alive as the sparkling gems.

“So this really proves that they are the sons of an Earl. No ordinary folk would ever be able to afford something as grand as this.” Evelyn said, chancing to touch the large dangling ruby. “I do not think even any of Papa’s customers ever commissioned anything like this.”

“I know. Robert is very proud of it. He went through hell to find it and to keep it. His father had told him that his mother had wanted him to have it and then to pass it down to his son, so you see, Robin will inherit it next.”

“But did he give this to you as well as the ring?” Evelyn asked, hoping Robert hadn’t. It was wrong of her, she knew, to be so jealous; she had never been jealous of Elizabeth before, but inside she cried at the fact that Jamie would never inherit anything and there would be nothing to hand down to her own sons. The fact that Robin wasn’t Elizabeth’s son never even registered in her mind. Only the fact that Elizabeth had received these magnificent gifts and that she hadn’t received anything stuck in her mind.

“He tried to give it to me, but I wouldn’t accept it.”

“You wouldn’t accept it?” Evelyn repeated as if Elizabeth were crazy.

“No! I told Robert he should save it for Robin…and besides, I felt…” Elizabeth hesitated a moment, shrugging her shoulders. “I know this sounds absurd but I felt uncomfortable wearing it. I do not know why, but I feel like something bad will happen if I should wear it.”

Evelyn made a scoffing noise in her throat. “Oh Bess, that is ridiculous! Nothing bad is going to happen if you should wear it. The problem is where you would wear it. There is no theatre here, no grand parties, nothing! But I think you should wear it if there ever is an occasion to.”

“Perhaps I am being silly.” Elizabeth said, closing the lid over the necklace. “But for now it’s going back in its hiding place.”

Elizabeth carefully put the box back into the hole in the floor and set the board back in place. Robert would never know she had taken it out to show Evelyn.

“Do you think Papa ever gave
Maman
any jewels like that?” Evelyn asked wistfully. “I know there were a few small pieces that the sheriffs took and I know they also took all his stock.”

Elizabeth returned to Evelyn’s side and she put her arm around her. She stared out the window as if trying to remember. “And I remember how the sheriffs searched the entire house, insisting there should be more pieces because Papa was a goldsmith, but Louise insisted there weren’t any. She insisted that Papa had sold them all. Do you remember that?”

Evelyn looked at Elizabeth with wide eyes. “And they bullied her terribly, but she never broke down!”

“Do you think she was hiding anything?” Elizabeth asked hopefully. “Do you think…?”

“…she was hiding more jewelry?” Evelyn finished the thought, her excitement building.

“Her trunk!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “We should look in her trunk! Perhaps…” She trailed off, not wanting to appear greedy. She waited for Evelyn’s consent.

“Should we?” Evelyn whispered.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a minute, hope and excitement in their hearts. “Let’s.” Elizabeth finally said. “I do not think Louise would mind us going through her things.”

The trunk was still in the hallway. Neither one of the girls had wanted to claim it when Dolnick had first brought it upstairs. It was a small trunk, only eighteen inches square with a domed lid that added another four inches in height and it was made of strong oak with sturdy leather straps. When the girls had first seen the trunk at the beginning of their journey, they had been shocked that Louise had chosen such a small trunk. They hadn’t understood how she could have packed all her possessions in such a small space and they had questioned her about it, but Louise had assured the twins that the trunk was large enough for what she needed to pack.

The girls settled themselves on the floor in front of the trunk. The house was still quiet; Abigail was taking her time in the garden. Holding hands and bowing their heads, they shared a moment of silence in remembrance of their governess. Then together they unlatched the clasp and opened the lid.

Much to their surprise, the trunk was packed with wonderful things: underneath the few items of Louise’s clothing there were lengths of expensive fabrics, silks, cobweb linen, and a smaller length of cloth of gold. Under the cloth there were two pairs of perfumed leather gloves, several perfumed handkerchiefs, pots of apricot face cream and almond rose petal lotion. Wrapped tightly in chamois cloth were two bottles of scented water, one of lavender and one of orange flower. Miraculously they had not been broken.

With each item they pulled out, more tears streamed down their faces. They embraced for a moment, gathering their emotions, before resuming. But still there was no jewelry.

There were two ornately carved combs of ivory, two highly polished steel mirrors, and four toothpicks, two made of solid gold and two made of solid silver. There was one book titled The English Housewife, by Gervase Markham, print date 1623, one treatise on women’s medical issues by a French midwife named Louyse Bourgoise, print date 1609, and one hand-written booklet on the art of hand reading. The girls raised their eyebrows at that, but then their attention was caught by the wooden box at the bottom of the trunk. The family monogram had been carved into the top. Their curiosity about the booklet on hand reading forgotten, the girls opened the box slowly, their hearts pounding.

Their intuition had been right and wrong. Inside the box were seven velvet pouches, five of them embroidered in gold thread with their father’s initials and guild mark. The other two pouches were quite worn, even threadbare in some spots. What was inside the pouches was not fabulously valuable jewels like they had hoped for, but just as precious nevertheless.

With infinite care they first spilled out the two pocket watches that were in the worn pouches. The watches were magnificent works of art, both were gold, one was round, one was oval, their covers elaborately engraved and pierced. When they opened the lids, the faces were also engraved and the dial recorded the hours, day of the week, the date, phases of the moon and the signs of the zodiac. The girls held them gingerly in their shaking hands and looked at each with wonder in their eyes, wondering where the watches had come from. They had never seen them before; these were definitely not their father’s.

One by one they revealed the remaining pieces. The smallest pouch contained a ring, a magnificent cobalt blue sapphire surrounded by pure white diamonds. The two second to smallest pouches contained gold pendants hanging on necklaces, the links made of connected bows, enameled in white, and tiny flowers each centered with a perfect diamond chip. The pendants themselves were unfinished, prongs ready to accept newly faceted diamonds perhaps, but the engraving was clear and elegantly done, eTl for Elizabeth Lillian Tyler, and eTm for Evelyn Marie Tyler. It was clear that their father had been working on these pendants at the time of his death. They would never know the reason why he hadn’t finished them, but it didn’t matter now. Evelyn and Elizabeth were glad to have them and they cried on each others’ shoulders, their grief as fresh as it was five months ago.

The final two pouches contained items more dear to the girls than they could have ever wished for. One was a miniature of a young woman, her glorious hair the same color as the girls’. Their mother, they realized, and together they gazed at the portrait and wondered what their life might have been like if she had lived. The other item was a rock crystal, heart shaped locket with faceted edges and a crown of garnets. The locket contained a lock of hair the same color as the girls’, again, their mother’s, they realized.

And then there was one final item at the bottom of the box. An envelope. In elegant script, the girls’ names had been written on it. The twins looked at each other, afraid to touch it, but Elizabeth finally picked it up and drew out the letter.

It read:

A
mes cheres nieces
, to my dear nieces,

If you are reading this letter, it goes without saying that I am dead. And you are, no doubt, shocked at my salutation. But it is true; you are my nieces, for your mother was my dear younger sister.

I am sorry we never told you. But your mother’s and my identities had to remain a secret. When I was twenty and your mother was eighteen, our lives took a terrible turn; we were accused of witchcraft in the town of Calais, France. We had no choice but to flee to England.

Before that we were part of a traveling troupe of performers, your mother told fortunes and I was a hand reader. We also enjoyed acting on stage; our father, your grandfather, wrote the most outrageous comedies. Our troupe was known as the Theatre du Flambeau and we were a group of thirteen. There were your grandparents, Jean-Pierre and Ann-Laure Damours, our brother, Pierre-Louis, two jugglers, Gaston and Laurent, a rope dancer, Cecile, two acrobats, Emilie and Zoe, and two musicians, Bruno and Etienne. We traveled all over France and we were usually welcomed by all the townspeople, but that last time, someone took offense to our father’s newly-written play in which he mocked the King and the man stirred up the crowd enough that a riot ensued, bringing the constables in. We were all arrested, put in jail except for Pierre-Louis who had gotten away. Later that night he helped your mother and me to escape; I do not know how he did it, but he helped us flee to England. He gave us some money and the pocket watches which belonged to your grandfather, but he stayed behind and I have never seen him since or my parents.

Jeannette and I made our way to London where we lived poorly. In back alleys, I continued to read hands and your mother told fortunes until the one day when Jeannette woke from the dream that guided us to your father’s storefront. It may sound like a fairytale, but that day your father fell in love with your mother and he wouldn’t let her go.

He saved us; he married your mother and he took both of us in. He loved your mother with a passion so fierce it was difficult for me to watch. For I admit now, I loved your
father also. Of course he never loved me, but after your mother died, I stayed to care for you girls and I stayed to care for him too. I have no regrets; I couldn’t leave you girls to anyone else’s care and I couldn’t leave your father to any other woman.

Do not be shocked and do not mourn for me. I knew all along how my life would end. Your mother saw to that. I was happy being your governess, seeing you grow, and nurturing your gifts. Both of you have made me so proud; you are brave and lovely young women and I know you will be wonderful wives to your new husbands.

I saved these items for you. The pendants your father was making for your eighteenth birthday. I’m sorry he never had the chance to finish them or to present them to you. The ring was your mother’s wedding ring, and the miniature of her was done the day after her marriage to your father. Of course, the locket contains her hair, taken the day she died.

Enjoy the rest; where you are I’m sure it will be difficult to obtain items of luxury. But your futures will be blessed with happiness and love and many children, things far more precious than fabrics or creams. Never forget your father, your mother and me, for we were your family and your heritage. And continue to treasure and value your gifts. Do not ever believe that you have not been blessed by God.