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Aunt Eloise paced in front of the hearth while Uncle Nicholas sat in the rocker reading the Daily Herald. Adele sat on the davenport, not sure what to think. Judging by her aunt’s unrest, the evening might not end well. It might not even begin well!
“Settle down, Eloise. It’s only the Bonneville’s,” Uncle Nicholas grumbled. He didn’t lower the newspaper when he spoke, but he peeked around it with a grimace aimed at his wife.
“I wish you hadn’t invited the both of them. You know how Lucille is.”
“I’m confident she’ll be respectful. If not, Richard can set her in her place.”
“Richard is oblivious.”
“Abusive,” is what Grai’s spirit had revealed. The night should be extremely interesting.
Adele observed her aunt with curiosity. She hadn’t seen her so apprehensive over meeting someone before. Up to this point, Aunt Eloise had displayed calm and graciousness even when confronting Uncle Nicholas in his rage and Adele considered her a role model. To see her aunt this distressed was bothersome.
Mrs. Bonneville would soon walk into their home, and the man whom Grai believes hired a ruffian to kill him would be with her. Adele had her own misgivings about the woman who betrayed Grai. She couldn’t help but take his defense. If the Bonnevilles didn’t hire someone to kill him, they certainly made his life miserable.
As she watched her aunt pace back and forth in front of the hearth, Adele vowed she would control her temper, and her tongue.
The sound of horses outside drowned her thoughts, and soon a bold knock at the door sent Mei Ling scurrying to the foyer.
“The roads are slick tonight, my friend,” a voice called out when the door opened, and a gust of cold air swept inside. Uncle Nicholas rose, and Aunt Eloise gestured for Adele to stand.
“Your ride was a safe one, I surmise?” her uncle responded.
“As safe as any ice skater on a frozen lake would expect.” The men laughed.
Aunt Eloise wrung her hands.
Richard Bonneville strolled into the living room with an air of confidence. A short man with bright red hair and a mustache that curled up to his nostrils. He tossed his hat on the coat rack and shook hands with Uncle Nicholas. Adele visualized him slipping a bag of coins to a group of evil mercenaries while laughing and offering a friendly handshake. Her lips curled into a snarl.
The two men slapped each other’s arms in greeting and then Richard helped his wife with her coat, hung it on the rack, and removed his own.
“Eloise, it’s so good to see you again,”
Mrs. Bonneville entered the living room and moved toward the hearth. A very tall woman who flaunted a luxurious black crepe dress and wore a small black hat with a black veil which she swept away from her face. Around her neck were jet beads and a gold locket hung from them at her collarbone. She wore a musty perfume that, to Adele, attempted to conceal the stench of the abuses she afflicted on her son.
“Lucille, I’m pleased you decided to come and visit.” Aunt Eloise offered her a smile which came across sincere. Aunt Eloise could never hide her civility, even if she wanted to.
“And this must be your niece. What is her name?”
“Yes, Adele, this is Mrs. Bonneville.”
Adele curtsied but said nothing. She wasn’t so sure she was pleased to meet the woman, so why lie?
“Adele?” Lucille approached her. A fair-skinned woman with loose, sandy curls like Grai’s which she pulled back into a mountain for her hat to sit upon. She had a pointed nose and brown beady eyes, not handsome like her son’s hazel eyes. Grai must have gotten his good looks from his father.
“Richard and I attended your parent’s execution. You poor child. I’m surprised that you’ve already withdrawn from your liability of mourning? Or have you not yet begun?” She muttered, but she might as well have shouted for all the pain she caused.
Adele, stupefied, had no response. What could she say? This was Uncle Nicholas’ guest, and if she hit the woman in the mouth, there would be consequences.
“Adele is still settling in, Lucille,” Aunt Eloise explained.
“If you’ll excuse us, ladies, Richard and I will be in the parlor discussing business.” Uncle Nicholas gave Aunt Eloise a raised brow, an imperious look at Mrs. Bonneville, and placed hors d'oeuvres on his plate. He then led Richard away. Bonneville’s teacup clattered as he followed Uncle Nicholas. It seemed the two men couldn’t wait to be in the privacy of their own company. Adele would rather go with them. She could learn if they were scheming any more ill will toward Grai if they’d let her sit in the parlor with them, but it wasn’t for her to ask. No, her station was with this strange woman in black who had given birth to Grai.
“Settling in? Who else is settling in, Eloise?”
“What do you mean?”
Lucille gestured toward the mirror. “You should know.”
Aunt Eloise rolled her eyes and guided Lucille to the table.
“What about our mirror?” Adele asked under her breath.
“Adele, hush,” Aunt Eloise whispered, “I’ll explain later. Please, Lucille! Care for a tea cake? We can sit on the couch and discuss our plans for the party.”
Aunt Eloise poured Lucille a cup of tea and the two sat down on the davenport. Adele sat across from them on the rocking chair, thankful that Butterscotch jumped on her lap and gave her a distraction.
“I came here with Richard tonight for a specific purpose, Eloise,” Lucille began. She barely tasted her tea, pinkie out, before setting the cup down. “I won’t be attending the festivities, nor will I be able to assist you with planning.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is it because of your son?”
“Indeed, it is. I am overwhelmed with grief over his death.”
Aunt Eloise lost her formality at that moment, and she sighed heavily. “I’m so sorry, Lucille. I didn’t know that they had confirmed his passing.”
“There’s no sign of him anywhere. He wouldn’t just disappear, and the items found at the crime scene were a sure indicator that someone murdered him. I’m beside myself, as you can see.”
Lucille stroked the locket around her neck and broke down in tears. “He was such a good boy. I’m afraid I treated him unfairly.”
Adele shuffled in her chair, biting her tongue, and wishing her aunt would give her a chore to tend to so she could excuse herself.
“Are there suspects?” Aunt Eloise asked.
“The marshal says they can’t investigate without a body. Oh—” She moaned. “My dear sweet son.” She nearly spilled the contents of her cup, and so Aunt Eloise took it from her and set it on the end table.
Aunt Eloise glanced at Adele, a look of exasperation on her face, and moved closer to the woman, putting her arm around her as Lucille sobbed into her hankie.
“Adele, please bring a damp facecloth for this poor woman,” she said.
Adele rose and hurried to the water basin in the kitchen, found a facecloth, poured water on it, and brought it to the weeping woman. Lucille took a moment from her wailing to regard Adele.
“I don’t understand why you two are so cold-hearted,” she said.
“Cold-hearted?” Aunt Eloise asked.
“Well, look at her, Eloise! Why this child refuses to give respect to her departed parents is beyond me,” Lucille moaned. “And you, Eloise. That was your sister! Oh, how will you ever survive this atrocity!”
“Wipe her face, Adele,” Aunt Eloise instructed, the gentleness gone from her tone.
Adele knelt in front of Lucille and lifted the veil that had fallen during her lament. She dabbed the woman’s cheeks and eyes softly with the cloth. The woman snatched the linen from her. When Adele backed away, she noticed the locket hanging around the woman’s collar. Lucille caught her stare.
“This attracts you, does it? It’s gold, Adele. Look! You see this? This is my dead son, for whom I mourn!” She opened the locket with trembling fingers. “Take a look at this, Adele.” She pushed the locked in front of Adele’s face. “For the disgrace of not mourning your parents, my son’s spirit will curse you!”
A small image of Grai’s smiling face lay under glass on one side of the gold locket. On the other, to Adele’s horror, was a lock of his hair. Adele turned cold. She looked into the woman’s small beady eyes, red with tears, her high cheekbones flushed, her thin lips bent in a forever frown. Adele stood and backed away.
“Our rituals and religion are our own affairs, Lucille,” Aunt Eloise argued and jumped to her feet, her face flaming with anger. If Lucille hadn’t had a veil, her aunt might have scratched out her eyes. Adele would be happy to help if it came to that.
“Regardless of how they died, respect for the dead is fundamental. I thought you knew better.” Lucille snapped her locket shut, gave Adele an evil glare, and let down her shroud.
“Mourning rituals are for Easterners and the British, and those who don’t look for better days,” Aunt Eloise said.
“You disgust me, Eloise. You and your free thinking. I’ve never liked you much. I’ve a mind to tell Richard to take me home.”
“If you do, make sure you tell him why,” Adele said.
Both of the women looked at her.
“What did you say?” Lucille tossed her head, indignant.
“It’s not fair to condemn Aunt Eloise by judging her according to your standards. She’s done nothing wrong. And I refuse to accept your curses.”
“Young lady, if you knew half of what you were talking about, you’d hold your tongue. If the spirits of those two murderers take refuge in this house, you’ll be a pitiful sight. If anyone should bemoan the Johansson’ deaths, it should be you!”
“Lucille your despondency is inhibiting your intellect!” Aunt Eloise crossed her arms, her fists clenched. She remained a lady, a virtue Adele wished her aunt would neglect for the moment.
“Is it?” Lucille retorted and pointed to the clock. “I see you did not stop time in honor of your sister. The profanity of the deceased will fall on your household.”
“What is all this ruckus? Lucille!” Richard appeared in the hallway. He looked silly, holding a delicate teacup in his large hand with his mouth agape. As much as Adele hated him for hurting Grai, she was glad he interrupted his wife. “Are you offending our hostess?”
Lucille took a long, drawn-out breath and clammed.
“Sit down, woman, and don’t speak to the Barringtons in such a manner again.”
“I’m sorry. My misery had the better of me.” Lucille crumpled like a rag doll on the couch. The melodrama was too much for Adele. She picked up Butterscotch and seated herself on the rocking chair, trembling. The lock of Grai’s hair sealed behind a piece of glass hanging around his mother’s neck horrified her.
“I told you it was too soon to socialize. You must excuse us, Eloise. Grai’s death has overwhelmed Lucille.”
Adele cringed when she heard his name and clenched her jaw, fighting the explosion inside of her.
“You would be much happier if you knew what happened to him. A decent burial would bring closure, Lucille,” Aunt Eloise responded too collected for Adele’s taste. But Aunt Eloise didn’t know about Grai’s situation.
Adele closed her eyes for a moment and when she did, an image of Grai appeared, and she heard his words. “I hope they never find me!” Adele hoped so too. She would get to see him again, and that alone comforted her—that she knew where he was, and that Lucille and Richard Bonneville did not!
“I hope they don’t find you either,” she whispered.
“What?” Richard Bonneville asked.
“I was talking to the cat,” Adele answered without looking at him.
“We didn’t come to discuss our sorrows, nor our son. Fortunately, Nicholas and I have settled our affairs, and you and I can go home, Lucille. Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Barrington, Nicholas!” Richard Bonneville bowed cordially to Aunt Eloise and Uncle Nicholas. To Adele, he nodded slightly, and took Lucille’s arm, prodding her to the foyer where he put her coat on her, gathered his winter wear, and saw his wife to the door.
The silence that they left behind felt good. Adele glanced at her aunt, and then at her uncle. They both exhaled.
“What brought that on?” Uncle Nicholas asked.
“Her superstitions have gotten the best of her, I’m afraid. The woman gets worse every time I see her, with or without a death in the family.”
Uncle Nicholas grunted and left the room.
“What did she mean about the mirror?” Adele asked.
“Lucille hangs on to the belief that a mirror can trap a spirit and keep them in our world. She claims not enough residents of Port Summerhill cover their mirrors after a death, and that’s why we have so many ghosts.”
Adele shuddered. “She truly believes that?”
With Butterscotch in her arms, Adele stepped up to the mirror and studied her reflection. She didn’t look as gaunt as she had the first day of her arrival. In fact, it seemed she had gained a little weight. Neither was she as pale as the day they sentenced her parents. Living with Aunt Eloise made her healthier, and more attractive.
“Lucille also claims that if you are the first one to look in a mirror after a death, you will be the next to die.”
Adele’s eyes widened.
“It’s just superstition.” Her aunt had come up behind her and took her shoulders. “You look lovely. Get some sleep and don’t let that woman’s bitter words upset you.”