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Elinora scurried down the cavernous tower stairwell, lighting the way. Tillie quickened her pace to catch up, her shoes shuffling upon the cool stone steps as she followed. They returned to the third floor where some of the household residents lived—the only floor in Kellandale Manor that was connected to the tower. Here they exited, though the stairs continued to a floor below.
Tillie peered into the darkness. “I wonder what’s down there?”
“Oh no. Don’t you dare think about it.”
“All right, all right,” she sighed.
“Hurry up,” Elinora said, quickly opening the rickety old door they had passed through on their way to the tower. It led into a long, windowless corridor. The plank flooring was bare and creaky, and a mild smell of mildew lingered in the air. On the other end of the corridor was a second door. She opened it a crack to make sure the coast was clear, then they slipped past the bedrooms of Abigail, who was in charge of the day-to-day details in the manor house, her two assistants, and two manor house chefs. Abigail’s door was ajar, revealing a well-appointed bedroom with a cozy woolen rug and a small fireplace, but she was not there. The other doors were closed so they tiptoed past, unsure if the rooms were occupied.
Tillie returned the tower bedroom key to a station on the wall that was filled with other keys. It was forged of heavy metal and clanked against the wall when she set it back in its place on the hook.
Elinora cringed at the noise. “How on earth did you figure out which one to take?” she whispered.
“Easy—it was the only one that looked garishly old,” she replied with a snort.
Elinora blew the candle out. “Ingenious. I swear, if they find out where we’ve been, I’ll make sure everyone knows it was your brilliant idea.”
Tillie rolled her eyes. “Come on then, stop harassing me and let’s make sure that doesn’t happen,” she said, pushing Elinora forward through the hall toward the side stairwell. There they hastened down to the second floor where their own bedrooms were located and traversed the hallway, at last reaching the top of the grand double staircase at the entrance of the manor house.
Elinora grabbed the balcony railing and hung her head down, catching her breath. Below was the foyer, bright and open, filled with ferns, ivy, and other potted plants. At the base of each staircase was an exquisite statue, on the left a serpent and on the right a very detailed sculpture of a monkey; vestiges from Sir William’s time.
“See, wasn’t that worth it?” Tillie gushed. “And no one saw where we went. Now we just need to get through tea, then we can head to the river.”
Elinora glared at her, then quickly returned the candle she was still holding to the credenza in the balcony hallway.
They paused when they heard the grandfatherly voice of Albert, Kellandale’s steward, greeting guests at the front entrance. Tillie peered down and could see there were four visitors, presumably there to see their father. She signaled to Elinora to halt until they were out of sight, then they proceeded down the stairs. Once at the bottom, they turned and walked through the wide hallway behind the staircase, passing the formal dining hall and the breakfast room at the back of the house before cutting through the gallery, a high-ceilinged room with a red clay tile floor.
Tillie stopped to gaze at a painting of Sir William in which he was wearing an ornately trimmed, navy velvet waistcoat with a white tunic blossoming out from underneath. His hair and eyes, exactly the color of Elinora’s, were both dark brown, and his fine, tawny hands were placed elegantly upon a carved wooden staff. His smile was indicative of his kind-hearted and generous spirit. She smiled back. “Just look at him, Elinora.”
She glanced quickly, then stopped to take a longer look. The gentle expression in his eyes softened her and she smiled, too. Once Tillie exited the room, she stole over to the portrait of his mother. Lady Vivienne stood confidently in an elegant green floral brocade dress with a proud grin on her face. Her straight black hair was pulled back in a low bun—it was this portrait that had informed Elinora’s choice for her own hair styling. She had always held a secret affinity for Lady Vivienne, and aspired to be just how she imagined her—as a bold and fiercely independent woman.
“Elinora, you’re going to be late!” Tillie heckled her from down the hall.
She pulled herself out of her daydream and rushed to catch up with Tillie, who was waiting at the entrance of the sitting room. In her haste, just as she was rounding the corner she collided with a tall woman with high, chiseled cheekbones that framed her broad smile.
“Oh, good morning, Mother,” Elinora said nervously. “Right on time, aren’t we?”
“Indeed, you are. Good morning, Nora.” She smoothed her grey tea gown then kissed them both on the forehead.
Tillie grinned at Elinora, who pursed her lips back at her.
The rain had finally slowed, though not enough to be able to sit on the terrace as planned. Instead, they entered the sitting room, taking their seats on one of the curved, oversized sofas arranged around a low table near the fireplace at the back of the room. Shortly after they got settled, their father joined them.
“Good afternoon, my dears,” he said, taking a seat across from them in the armchair next to the fire. He flashed them his big smile, his hazel eyes sparkling warmly.
“Good afternoon, Father,” they replied in unison.
“Well then, I know you’ve been expecting big news, and I have guests arriving imminently so I will get right to it.” He cleared his throat and flicked a curl out of his eye.
Tillie shuffled in her seat expectantly.
“Your mother and I have spoken with each other about this, and to your Uncle Miles and Aunt Camille as well. We have agreed that...well, how would you like it if Gray and Jamie came to stay at Kellandale for several months?”
“What?” Tillie said with an exhale of delight. She was so excited she forgot about Sir William and the man on the bridge for a brief moment.
Elinora smiled. “I would like that very much. It’s been far too long since we last saw them, and exchanging letters just isn’t the same.”
“When will they arrive?” Tillie inquired.
“Your cousins, along with your Aunt Camille, will arrive toward the end of winter, most likely in late February,” their mother answered. “They will be staying with us until your father and your uncle finish completion of the community school.”
“Oh? There must be so much to do to prepare,” Elinora replied. “The community project is so important, considering everything that has happened,” she said to her father, growing more serious.
“Indeed, these are strange times.” He shook his head. “Our plans address the current situation, but it will take some time. Your Uncle Miles and I will need to stay in the city, and your mother and I feel that an extended stay of the O’Conors would be favorable to everyone while we are gone.”
Elinora continued to question him as Tillie fidgeted in her seat, repeatedly glancing out the bank of windows, hoping for a glimpse of the mysterious man and the carriage.
“How about science, history, and art education?” Elinora asked, her voice pulling Tillie back out of her thoughts.
He grinned. “My dear, I assure you, we will be offering that and more—you know how strongly I feel about all of this. And I hope that one day perhaps you’ll decide to become one of our educators.”
She smiled.
Tillie was also interested in her father’s plans, yet she couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease her sister. “Elinora likes to read so she’s an expert on many subjects, but it won’t do any good if she doesn’t do anything with all she’s learned,” she said dramatically. “I just know I want to do something exciting one day. Perhaps I’ll become an astronomer and discover a new planet while she hides in the library and reads about me.”
“We’ll see. You’ll be too busy gazing up at the sky to notice when I become Head of Education and change things for the better,” Elinora retorted.
“I do hope that is true,” Tillie said, pulling a goofy face at her.
“Charming,” Elinora said, scrunching her nose back.
“You have two very brilliant young minds on your hands, James,” a booming, jovial voice broke in from behind them without warning, startling Elinora and Tillie out of their seats. They turned to see a familiar looking man standing behind them. They both broke out into wide grins. “Uncle Miles!” Tillie shouted.
“Good afternoon, family!” he said unwrapping a scarf and approaching them all with extended arms.
“Miles O’Conor, good to see you!” their father said, rising.
“James, Anna, Elinora, Tillie,” he greeted everyone. He took off his top hat and bowed playfully and dramatically.
“We just heard the news about Gray and Jamie, Uncle Miles,” Elinora said brightly as she and Tillie rushed over to him.
“Ah, yes, they are counting down the days until they arrive here.”
“I can’t wait. Please tell them to hurry up and get here!” Tillie said eagerly.
Tillie and Elinora returned to their seats as a woman swaddled in a brilliant, teal-colored waistcoat entered the room. Behind her was a man carrying several large tubes of rolled up paper in his hands which jockeyed about clumsily as he attempted to push back a length of hair that had flopped into his eyes.
From her seat, Tillie craned her neck to get another look out the window. She glanced back at Elinora, making a gesture indicating she wished everyone would hurry up so they could finish tea and get outside to explore, then she sighed loudly with impatience. Elinora flared her nostrils and put her finger to her lips to shush her.
A third man, wearing a trim grey suit entered the room a moment later. He was very tall, and bespectacled. “Thank you, Albert, good to see you,” he called out into the hall before making his way to the meeting table at the front of the room where the other two men had gathered.
“Is that Everett Meade?” Anna asked James delightedly when she saw him.
“It is. Everett has agreed to come on board as our director of medical staff,” Miles replied. “He’s here with our architects so we can all be updated on the building progress.”
“That’s wonderful news—it’s so good to see him. It has been far too long,” Anna said, then turned to James. “I hope you don’t mind us having tea by the fire. We had planned to sit outside before the rain came.”
“Of course not. We just needed the table space to view the blueprints, we will be out of your hair in a moment,” James said, then he and Miles made their way over to the carved wooden table at the other end of the room where everyone was waiting. “Dr. Meade! Ms. Tenfield, Mr. Rohan, good to see you all!” he said, his voice fading into the distance.
Anna rejoined Elinora and Tillie at the sofas.
Very quickly, the thought of the man on the bridge began to eat away at Tillie again. She fidgeted in her seat, searching for an excuse to get outside.
A cheerful woman, with flushed, pink cheeks, not quite old enough to be Elinora and Tillie’s grandmother, entered the room as everyone got settled. In her care was a cart loaded with fruits, pastries, and a fresh pot of tea. She stopped the cart near the couches by the fire. “Cora and Jeppe have outdone themselves in the kitchen today. Help yourselves, everyone,” she said.
“Thank you, Abigail. This looks wonderful. Please, join us, will you?” Anna invited.
“Of course, dear,” she said. She sat down and fixed a strand of peppered grey hair that had come loose.
Anna prepared four cups of tea and handed one to Abigail, passing the other two to Elinora and Tillie.
Abigail was head of the manor house and had been welcomed into the family, just as the rest of the household staff who worked and lived there were. In addition to providing income and a comfortable place in the home, James and Anna had always made sure that everyone had access to education.
Opportunities had become very scarce as of late—an effect of the recent restriction of education to only the most influential, to those able to pay the hefty price, or to the lucky few who got in through a lottery. While Abigail and Albert had been at Kellandale for decades, the others had come to the manor house in recent times seeking alternate arrangements when their own educational opportunities had been cut off.
For the time being, Emil, Kellandale’s coachperson and stable master, was being schooled by a local veterinarian. Simon and Sabine, who were Albert and Abigail’s assistants, were both studying civil engineering under James’ tutelage. Gemma, another of Abigail’s assistants, continued her own music studies while also giving lessons to Elinora and Tillie. Now and again Cora and Jeppe, the household chefs, traveled off to faraway places where culinary schools were still open so they could continue to hone their skills. Meanwhile, Elinora and Tillie helped with the beehives, Anna cooked with Cora and Jeppe, and everyone including James, worked in the gardens and pitched in to help Emil tend the horses.
It was a chilly September afternoon—a perfect day to sit together around the fireplace. Their lanky, beloved cat, Velvet, slept soundly in front of it, her silky black fur warmed by the flames. From their seats they each had a clear view of the river through the north facing windows.
As her mother and Abigail conversed, Elinora absentmindedly clanked her spoon about in her teacup and peered out the bank of windows, attempting to catch a glimpse of the bridge off in the distance.
Anna noticed she was distracted and looked at her inquisitively.
She glanced away, embarrassed, as though her mother could read her thoughts.
“Mother, Elinora told me that Sir William was driven mad by the forest. Is this true?” Tillie blurted out with no warning, breaking the silence. Elinora froze, her eyes widening with guilt.
“Where on earth did you hear that?” her mother asked.
Her face turned red. “I...I don’t remember.” She glared at Tillie, then glanced sheepishly at Abigail.
“It doesn’t matter, does it? Just tell us. Is it true?” Tillie pressed.
Anna hesitated as though she were tiptoeing through delicate terrain. “Sir William...” she began.
Tillie and Elinora both waited expectantly.
“His father, Sir Edward, and his family came here from Gailand. They worked hard in order to get by. Edward was smart, strong, and daring, and was eventually hired by a man who was looking for someone to represent his interests in a trading company. He sailed around the world, bringing back treasures from places in every direction—to far away to lands in the east, south, and beyond. Edward even went into regions that were closed off to trading at that time, like Miyar, Adrai, and Chanpor where he met his wife, Vivienne.
“He brought back a wealth of goods for the man who had hired him—a member of the royal family who wished to impress his subjects. In gratitude, the man bestowed titles to Edward and Vivienne and gave them this estate and large sums of money in exchange for Edward’s service,” she said, avoiding the question by simply repeating the same information she and James recited whenever they were asked about the history of Kellandale.
“Mother, I know that part. Just tell us, what happened to Sir William?” Tillie asked loudly, standing up in frustration.
While Elinora was mortified her sister had spoken so boldly, she was secretly pleased she had the nerve. She waited for an answer.
“Tillie, please keep your voice down,” their mother shushed her without saying anything more.
But their father had overheard the exchange from across the room. Tillie sat back down when she saw him approaching.
“Tillie,” he addressed her directly. “I have business to attend to as you can see. But since you insist on making a fuss, I will quickly say that nothing more than this is known; the deep woods of this estate are haunted and very dangerous. Sir William lived here alone after his parents passed on, and yes, it was said that he seemed to have suffered from some sort of delusions at the end of his life, though whether or not the forest was the cause, we cannot say. But, as a precaution...”
Tillie’s eyes glazed over as he paused to take a breath.
“No one has been permitted to enter the deep woods beyond the ancient tree since Sir William’s time,” he continued. “This information has been passed down to us from generation to generation for our protection and it is a directive our family must honor and not question. What you are asking is, therefore, incidental. This of course is the reason why, my darling, you and Elinora are forbidden...”
Tillie sighed. “Forbidden to walk into the malicious forest. I know.” She growled with frustration. “But Father, it’s a mistake. The forest isn’t dangerous, it’s beautiful, and safe; I know it is. Nothing at all about it feels haunted.”
He gasped. “Please tell me you respect the boundaries we have set. I fear for your safety, that is all. It’s enough to bear that you go near the forest at all. Promise me once again that you will always keep to the outskirts of the woods and will never, ever stray into the deep forest.”
There was a pause. “Yes, Father,” Tillie relented.
“Thank you. Now I must get back,” he said, returning to the meeting.
Tillie looked at Elinora out of the corner of her eye, knowing that she, too, must be thinking about everything that had happened—Sir William, the forest, and the incident on the bridge. She fidgeted again.
After a short while a streak of sunlight passed through the window, brightening the room.
Tillie overheard her father and uncle saying goodbye to their guests and she took the opportunity to make an excuse to leave. She set down her empty teacup. “Mother, I would love to get some fresh air. Would you mind if Elinora and I went for a short stroll? In the garden?” she clarified.
“Of course not, dear. Just don’t be long. Don’t forget your overcoats. And remember what you promised your father.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll get our coats!” she said eagerly to Elinora.
Elinora waited nervously for her to return. To be sure, she thought the forest was beautiful, but she wasn’t keen about the prospect of going too far into it. They had never dared before, and she had always been content to enjoy it from afar. And yet, Tillie was right; their curiosity had been piqued, and neither of them could let it go unexplored.