“I can’t think of anything to wear tonight,” I exclaimed. I turned to my maid. “Pick for me.” She stood without a sound in the corner of my room.
“I could not pick my lady,” she said and curtsied and then added, “I would wear every single dress if I could.”
I smirked. “You, wear such a dress? Why you’d get it dirty in a second.”
“I’m sorry, I spoke out of turn,” the maid said.
“Well, mind your tongue. I’ll choose a dress myself.”
She curtsied and stood back in the corner.
“How about this one?” I drew out a light blue dress with a huge skirt. It probably had a diameter of five feet. Its neckline drooped and was made of loose material. It was a pretty dress.
The maid came up to me and touched the material. “How lovely!” she exclaimed.
“Yes, tis’ beautiful, I only got it finished this past fortnight.”
“Oh, if you wear it tonight, it would go well with your golden curls.” She touched the material and looked at it with hungry eyes.
“Aye.” I put the dress on the bed.
“The Duke of Welling will be proud,” Betsey exclaimed as she leaned over to smooth one of the wrinkles on the dress. I spun around the color flew to my cheeks.
“The Duke of Welling,” I whispered.
“All the way from England,” my maid added.
“Aye, but I had not heard that he has come.” My heartbeat quickened as I stood clutching the dress. “D’ye know why?”
“Probably because of the rebellion,” Betsey said in a quiet voice.
I looked at Betsey. “These men and women who are rebels call themselves Patriots, but to what purpose? To some unknown country, what kind of Patriots are these?” I gave a little laugh, but it quivered.
I turned to the mirror, letting my hair down, and I started brushing it out with a silver comb. I gave Betsey a sidelong glance. Welling had arrived early, too early. If he found out, our plan would fall to pieces. I stood looking down at the drawer. I had to warn Buckingham.
The plans had to be carried out now. Our plans would not succeed if Welling knew about them. I opened the drawer and fingered the parchment. With some hesitation, I pulled it out and turned to look at Betsey. Could I trust her? She often seemed frightened to step above her station, but caution lingered in the air. I hoped that she would not suspect anything. I had to warn Buckingham. I could not leave the house to warn him myself. If I did, more suspicion would be thrown my way.
“Betsey.” I turned, holding the piece of paper tightly in my hand.
She quickly looked at me. “Yes?”
“Deliver this to Buckingham at once.” I turned and poured the wax seal upon it.
“Yes, ma’am.” Betsey curtsied and walked out, closing the door behind her. I stood looking after her as my heart pounded in my chest. If she opened the letter, the plan would fail. I doubted that she had any cause to have suspicions, but she was an ardent loyalist. She would never tell the Duke, I assured myself; she was too shy and too frightened of people. I was almost sure she would not speak, but my heart beat fast in my chest. What if she did hand him the letter? I finished getting dressed, combed my hair, and let several curls droop onto my shoulder.
Betsey arrived an hour later, breathing deeply. “I delivered the letter to Buckingham. The Duke is surely coming to the party this evening.”
I gave Betsey a stern glance. She did not act as if anything had happened. I decided to change the subject so she would not think I was acting strangely.
“I wonder what he looks like now,” I said aloud. “It has been fifteen years since I last saw him. The last time I was in England, he was a pompous fool then, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t changed,” I yawned. “These social affairs do bore me. It’s only interesting to get ready for them. Well, I am sure I’ll look lovely as ever. Did you get the flowers?”
“They are right here, My Lady.” She handed me a small bouquet of white roses. Their sweet perfume filled the room.
“Could you see if my carriage has arrived?”
“Yes.” She lightly walked out of the room. I calmed myself. Nothing was wrong; Betsey could not have given me away. It seemed as if in only two seconds, Betsey returned.
“The carriage has arrived,” she said as she stepped into the room.
“Thank you, Betsey.” I brushed past her.
“My Lady,” she called as I walked down the steps. I whirled around to meet her gaze. Was it just my apprehension, or was she suddenly hesitant?
“Have a pleasant evening.”
“I believe I will.” I gave her a small smile; she was a good maid after all.
My carriage arrived as the party was just beginning. Buckingham’s massive house gleamed with lights, and the front doors stood open to the drive. Lights illuminated the guests as they arrived. As I was alighting from my carriage, I saw a beautiful coach pull in. I knew it must be the Duke. How old was he now? Only twenty-five? Why should I be afraid of him? He was only five years older than me.
Buckingham, at that moment, rushed past me. “What an unexpected pleasure!” he exclaimed. I turned to look at the Duke and Buckingham.
The Duke raised his eyebrows. “A pleasure?” Did his voice sound questioning and suspicious, or were my fears still haunting me? Suddenly my thoughts got all tangled up inside. Had Buckingham not known that the Duke was arriving, or was he just being courteous?
“Peters!” Buckingham called to a servant. “Go set another place for Welling.”
My heart tightened in my chest. He had not known the Duke was coming; I kept walking up the stairs. How had Betsey known the Duke had arrived and everybody else had not? Now I realized that I had been gravely mistaken to have given Betsey the letter. Had she delivered it to Buckingham and just told me that the Duke was arriving to color the story and then the Duke had arrived by accident? I did not believe this to be true. I now understood the truth; Betsey had lied. I knew I must speak with Buckingham. Even if the Duke had gotten his hands on the letter meant for Buckingham, our plans could still be executed tonight. The only difficulty then would be to keep one step ahead of the Duke.
I stood at the entrance of the large house nervously, pulling petals from my bouquet of roses. I did not realize that I was nervous until I looked down and noticed that I was fidgeting. What was I to do?
“Is this Miss Elliott from so long ago?” The slippery voice oozed into my ears. I turned to find myself face-to-face with the Duke of Welling. I tried to force a smile.
“I believe so. What a surprise.” I tried to avoid his steely gray eyes. They had a sort of arresting quality to them. I could not tell if he was being friendly or trying to question me without my knowing.
“Are you scared of talking to an old childhood friend?” He took my hand in his.
“Why should I be scared?” I asked. I wanted to shake off his firm grasp, but I held my calm. I found it challenging to keep my voice steady.
“You seem nervous.” His eyes glistened. “Would you like to have a nice chat with me?”
I took my hand away. “Not now, sir.”
“Surely later.” He seemed to be cocky.
“We’ll see…” I started.
“Each other later.” He finished and walked away with just the right amount of haughtiness in his step.
“Hopefully not,” I mumbled. At that moment, I caught Buckingham’s glance. He stood across the hall. He, too, did not appear to be faring well. I must speak to him. No, he could not have known of Welling’s arrival. If he had received my message, he would have known.
By the time dinner was served, I was shaking like a leaf in the wind. I was waiting, maybe even hoping that the storm would break, just to get rid of the tension and of the clouds that had gathered in my mind.
Welling’s eyes kept landing upon me like an eagle or hawk waiting to catch its prey. I knew if he had the letter, the mouse and the squirrel would soon be in the trap, but what could I do? If something were to happen, it would be better to face it with full force instead of hiding and running away, but the full force was not feeling forceful at that moment.
The music had started; I hardly tasted the dinner as my thoughts were too preoccupied. The floor was a moving mass of large skirts and tailored jackets as I tried to cross the hall to get to Buckingham. It took a while, but I was finally at Buckingham’s side.
“Let’s dance,” I said quickly. Buckingham grabbed my hand, and we danced into the crowd. Buckingham sent a suspicious glance toward Welling.
“He knows,” I whispered into Buckingham’s ear. He nodded.
“I’m afraid I brought this all about. Did you receive my message?” I anxiously looked into Buckingham’s eyes.
He looked puzzled. “What message?”
“It’s as I suspected. If Welling has gotten his hands on it, it gives him the last evidence he needs against us.” I faltered in my words. Buckingham shook his head.
“He wouldn’t have come so early if he already did not have evidence against us. Also, he wouldn’t have appeared here this evening if he had not known.”
“But how?” I questioned.
“Never mind how.” I saw a distraught look come into Buckingham’s eyes.
“Listen, Mary.”
I looked at him. He had never called me Mary before.
He took my hand in his. “If you want to get out of my house without a trial awaiting you in England, I suggest you leave now and don’t return to anywhere near here until Buckingham is in England again.” I stared at him.
“Leave? Where? This can’t be so serious. He must have some kind of warrant; he has not said anything of it.”
“Mary, it’s Welling. He doesn’t need a warrant. You must leave. Go to the servants’ headquarters and change into their garb, and then run.” I believed him this time. He was urgent. I had one more worry, though.
“But what of you?” I asked.
“You go, don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of everything.”
“And when they find me gone from my house? Betsey must be in this. She’ll report.” I was breaking inside like shattered glass.
“Goodbye.” He squeezed my hand; he said nothing more.
“Goodbye.” I could not cry. I was too frightened now. I had thought I was so brave, but I could not seem to control the quivering of my lip as I spoke. With one last look at Buckingham, I turned and started calmly walking toward the door. I noticed guards along the sides of the hall in fancy red jackets. I wondered if those were actual guards or servants hired for decoration. While the Duke was dancing, I carefully slipped out the side door into the servant’s kitchen and out of the house. I blindly ran towards the back barn, which was the servants’ headquarters.
My hand was on the door latch when I heard the slippery voice. “Leaving so early, Miss Elliott? Or do you perchance just have happened to become friendly with the servants?”
My spine tickled. His arrogant expression made me feel awkward. As quickly as possible, I regained my poise. I tried my best to appear calm, but I knew I was caught, he had all the evidence against me, but I had to try one last time.
“And what brings you here so suddenly? Or did you perhaps find out that your real point in life was to be a servant?” I raised my chin defiantly. He suddenly grabbed my wrist.
“You forget your place, Madam, but I haven’t forgotten mine. I am a loyal subject of the English Crown and will remain so.” My nerves were tight as a rope. I tried to wring my wrist free. “Sir, I do not know why you are following me around like a cat following a mouse. What should it matter to me if you are a loyal subject to the King? You didn’t understand my little joke.” I tried to sound light-hearted. My heart was pounding heavily. I saw no escape.
“I understand your little joke perfectly.” His smug voice rattled my tired brain. Had it been just three hours ago that I had been picking out a dress? The Duke kept speaking.
“A joke of rifles that were to be delivered to Buckingham from the King himself, and perhaps more of a joke that you and Buckingham, while pretending to be loyalists and pretending to want to quench the rebellion, wanted these weapons to support these rebels who are not loyal to the King. That, my dear Miss Elliott, is first-class treason.” He took my hand. He looked as if he were about to eat a large piece of pie.
“Guard, open the servants’ quarters for me, please.” A guard appeared out of the shadows and opened the door. The Duke led me into the small room, which served as a kitchen and a parlor for Buckingham house servants.
“Sit!” he commanded and pointed to a chair. Two more guards walked in. I sat down and surveyed the guards.
“I see you brought the whole army with you,” I said smugly, knowing well enough that I was ensnared. “And may I remind you, sir, that I am not a dog.” I was caught, trapped. I could not do anything. I decided that I might use the opportunity to say what I wanted, or I might never get another chance.
The Duke disregarded my statement and pulled out something from his pocket. He laid it on the table next to me. I saw what the object was. It was the same letter I had given Betsey. I took it in my hand.
“This was the last evidence that I needed against you, Miss Elliott, how convenient that you decided to provide it for me. I am sure you will love England, Miss Elliott.” I stared at the letter; I had given myself and Buckingham away. Yes, Welling had suspected us, but now he had the evidence he needed against us. I, with my own horrid hands, had given myself up, and what had led Betsey to do this? Had it been my treatment of her? I realized the way I had treated Betsey was the way Welling was treating me tonight. A flower quenched and not allowed to grow. I awoke from my thoughts as the Duke was saying with a smirk,
“And you are lucky. You will be sailing with me in a fortnight.”
“How lucky,” I said and then added haughtily, “and I’m sure I’ll get a nice tour of the jail while I’m in England, that is.” I could not believe my ears; I was almost joking with him. How had Betsey lived with me? I could not stand his remarks. Did he almost smile, or was it just I? Or did I believe that I was going to wake up soon?
“Guard, to keep Miss Elliott in her high spirits, would you please escort her to my headquarters and see that she does not escape.”
He then started to address me. “Miss Elliott, you are now my prisoner. I suggest you remember that, guard!” He finished and gave a wave of his hand, showing that the guard must obey. I fully understood now that I was not dreaming. I reluctantly let the guard take me by the elbow and lead me away.
In the middle of the summer, Aunt Clara and Uncle Mark decided to go to Arizona to a fancy hotel not far from the Grand Canyon.
This hotel had a posh restaurant, and it was next to a quaint western town that reminded me of an old western movie. The hotel also had a big pool. We flew to Arizona, of course. This situation bothered me a bit because being in the air so long made me uncomfortable.
We were to stay at the hotel for two weeks and of course, I knew I would have a lot of fun. On the plane ride, though, I got stuck sitting in between Timothy and Joss. Joss did not want to sit next to the window, and Timothy wanted to sit next to the window. Of course, guys are guys, and do not ask where the girl would like to sit. So I ended up sitting in the middle. That is, in the middle of gum wrappers being thrown at each other and silently placed in my hair. Finally, we arrived, and I survived the flight without screaming.
The hotel was expensive, of course. Before this, I had never been on vacation with a millionaire or someone who was practically a millionaire. The hotel even had a ballroom. Of course, Timothy did not miss his chance to make a joke about it. Joss still acted a bit aloof, but sometimes he would smile at me or roll his eyes at Uncle Mark and then grin at me. I still had a hard time accepting the fact that he was my brother now. I wanted so terribly to be friends with him. I felt that after our game of capture the flag, becoming friends would be simpler.
Our rooms were split up, three girls in one room, three boys in the other room. That was interesting, and I was excited about spending more time with Martha and Liz. Dan, Joss, and Timothy would be in a different room. I was glad, though, that Uncle Mark and Aunt Clara were at the other side of the hotel. They would not be able to tell us when we had to go to sleep. Of course, the boys’ room was right next to ours, and we heard random knocking and beating on the walls when we tried to sleep at night.
The morning after we arrived at the hotel, I awoke as the sun was filtering into our big room. I felt content. I looked at Liz’s pretty face, and I wondered what it would be like to be sick like her. She could not run, she could not swim; she could not even ride a bike or a horse. She had told me that she might get an operation, but she was scared, and I believed her. She was the thinnest frailest person I had ever seen, but she had a strong character, and her laugh was like rippling waves gently lapping the rocks on the seashore.
I looked over to where Martha was sleeping. She was wrapped in her blanket on the floor. She was gentle and sophisticated; I wanted to be like her. She was so sure of herself, she was not pretty, but she knew this and did not care. I thought now that I was blessed to have a new family so that I could start over. Perhaps the fact that Mom had married Charles was not so bad after all. Joss seemed to get along just fine with Charles. Maybe I could get along with Charles too. After all, my mother had married him, and she and I were very similar.
Martha awoke while I was thinking, and I smiled at her and then told her of a new plan that had just formed in my mind. “Let’s go and give those boys a good morning awakening. They kept us awake. ” Martha sat up in bed now and smiled mischievously. We got dressed quickly. Our plan was all set; we had an extra card to Joss’s room. We crept with our pillows, down the hall and into the next room.
The door hardly made a sound as it opened. The boys’ clothing was all over the floor, and they were spread out all over the beds. Dan was snoring. Martha quietly closed the door.
“Good morning!” we yelled at the top of our lungs and beat them with our pillows.
“Hey,” Timothy said as he woke up. Martha kept hitting him with her pillow.
“O.K. I’m up,” he said as he got up and stretched. He then picked up his pillow and flung it at Martha. I had awoken Joss and Dan, and now they were trying to hit me with pillows. Soon there was a tangle of us in a heap of pillows. Joss, Timothy, and Dan were laughing so hard that tears streamed down their faces. Dan suddenly sat up and straightened out his pillow.
“I think we better stop. We are old enough not to pillow fight,” he said sternly.
“Oh, come on, Dan, it was just a bit of fun,” Joss argued.
“For little children,” Dan retorted.
“Dan, you were just laughing,” Timothy stated.
“I realized how foolish our actions were,” Dan said.
Timothy silently mocked him behind his back.
“Oh Dan, you sound just like Uncle Mark,” said Joss as he got off the floor and stretched his tall and lithe figure. I looked up at Joss. I wondered what it was like to look out from his eyes and see the world six feet and three inches off the ground, and he was only fifteen. If I stood on a chair and looked down, perhaps then I would know how he felt?
We picked up the mess of pillows off the floor, and Martha and I left quickly because Dan said they needed to change. I did not understand Dan. I began to feel a bit embarrassed. I supposed it was a bit immature for a fourteen-year-old girl to start a pillow fight. I began to feel foolish in front of my new cousins and my stepbrother.
Liz had not yet woken when we got back to the room, so we decided to let her sleep. Martha and I decided to go for a jog to town and just see what there was and then run back and jump in the pool.
The heat was unbearable as we got to town. So Martha and I decided to get some ice cream. Not necessarily the healthiest snack for a runner, I thought, but we would cool off. I had just paid for my ice cream and turned around when a cold spray of water hit me in the back. I turned quickly. There stood Timothy not far from the ice cream stand with a hose next to him, and Joss was standing next to him, laughing his head off. I, without thinking, threw my cone at Timothy. Instead of hitting him, it hit the man behind the counter. I just stood gaping when the man began yelling at us. All of us took off down the street with Martha at our heels.
We ran into a pizza restaurant and quickly plopped ourselves at one of the redtop tables. The smell of the melting cheese was irresistible. We decided to have pizza there. It was near noon.
“That was for the pillow beating,” said Timothy, laughing as we were ordering our pizza. Joss and Timothy began to shovel their pizza into their mouths as soon as it arrived. I always marveled at boys who ate almost a whole pizza and remained thin as branches.
“How did you get to town?” I asked Timothy.
“We followed you guys,” he answered, and then he asked, “anyway, what is wrong with you? Who decides to jog to town when it is a million degrees out?”
“We’re very strange,” I answered sarcastically.
“Where did you get the water hose?” Martha asked as she neatly wiped her mouth with a napkin.
“We got it behind the ice cream stand,” Joss answered, a slow grin spread over his face.
“You mean it wasn’t even yours?” I questioned.
“Well, what did you think we’d take a hose along with us for a jog?” Timothy laughed.
“Well, that’s great! We’ll probably have the police chasing us around town for using other people’s property!” I exclaimed.
“Oh, stop being so paranoid. That’s not something you could get arrested for,” Timothy said, and then he laughed again.
“Oh well, I guess we should be getting back,” Martha stated.
“Yes,” I added. “I think your Mom and Dad wanted to take us to the Grand Canyon to see the sunset, and then they wanted to go to a restaurant or something.”
“Oh goody,” said Joss as he stood up and untangled his long legs from under the table. “Why do we have to do boring stuff like see a sunset?”
“A sunset on the Grand Canyon, it’s everybody’s dream to see it. I’m serious; you don’t even know what it looks like.” I had to argue with Joss. How could he not want to go to the Grand Canyon?
“Well, you take your camera, sweetheart, and I’ll sleep.” Joss turned to the cashier to pay for our meal. He suddenly looked sad and lonely. I shrugged to myself. I could not understand him. Would I ever be able to act as his sister? Or would I always be a stranger living with his family?
Uncle Mark and Aunt Clara had just gotten back from their swim when we got back, and they were walking to their rooms as we walked into the hotel.
“Be ready to go in five minutes,” said Uncle Mark as he kept walking.
When he and his wife got back, all of us were assembled outside our rented fifteen-seater van. Dan, Timothy, Liz, Martha, Joss, and I. Uncle Mark threw the keys to Dan.
“Great, I have to drive,” Dan said, sounding upset. I thought he was secretly pleased, though.
The Canyon was about half an hour away from the hotel. When we got there, the incredible sight overwhelmed me. The Grand Canyon was magnetic. I realized what beauty could be found on this earth without many people seeing it.
Our troop walked up and down and around the Canyon. We did not want to go on the shuttle. We wanted to see it all. I pushed Liz’s chair next to one spot and took probably a dozen photographs. I felt as if I had to take them. Although I knew it would be nothing like being there and seeing the magic of the Canyon. The rocks on each Canyon were almost like a rainbow with deep browns and light browns on every side.
For many minutes I stood next to Liz and looked all around. We did not talk. I wished my Mom was with me at that moment, but she was not. I began to feel so terribly for all the quarrels that I had had with her ever since she had decided to marry Charles. Maybe next year we could all come. Martha came up to Liz and me and took Liz to show her another view. I looked after them and then walked up to the railing and leaned forward.
How I wished at that moment that I could fly.
“Hey, starry eyes,” Joss said. He had come up behind me. I had not even noticed him. I straightened out quickly. He had scared me.
“Sorry I scared you,” he said; he put his elbows on the railing. I looked at him. He had sharp blue eyes, dark brown hair, and a rather strange nose. I thought at times that he looked like a turtle. That was a rather peculiar observation on my part. Still, I thought he was a rather good-looking guy.
“Hi,” I said with a lack of anything better to say. The sun was beginning to set. The rocks turned red in the sun's filtering rays.
“I suggest you take out your camera now,” Joss said with a smirk.
I felt shy and was a bit scared of talking to him. I took out my camera, took one picture, and then let the camera hang around my neck.
“Joss, when was the last time you came here?” I asked. Joss did not answer for a while. I desperately wanted him to answer. I needed a friend and a brother.
“The last time I was here was three years ago,” Joss began and then continued. “You see, I was going into seventh grade, and I was so happy. I thought I was so mature. Anyway, I was with Mom and Dad, and nothing could have made me happier. But then… ” he stopped and swallowed hard, “only a few weeks later, Mom died.” He did not say anything after that, and I was sorry I asked. Three years seemed like such a short while ago. No wonder he did not want to accept my Mom as his.
“Listen, Joss…” I paused. I wanted to say something that would help him, not hurt him. “Joss, I know that my Mom and I may never replace your Mom, but could you accept her at least as a friend? Listen, I know how you feel. I do not know when I will think of your Dad as my Dad. Probably never, but I am trying to get along with him, even though you may not think so.” I stopped and let out a breath. Everything that I had wanted to say had come out of me. This speech left me feeling breathless. Joss, who had been looking out into the Canyon, now turned his head to me and said, “I think it will be a while before I see Kathy as even my stepmom, but I will try. But you should not worry. I always wanted a brother or a sister. I just never thought it would be you. ” We both laughed. I knew what he was thinking, he was so popular and I, well, that book better be left on the shelf.
We stood next to each other and did not speak as the huge rolling flame dropped behind the Canyon and left only purple and pink in the sky. I did not take any pictures of that sight, but the memory was imprinted on my mind forever.
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