Free Whispers Beyond the Veil by Jessica Estevao Page B
Authors: Jessica Estevao
the refuge of my motherâs third-floor bedroom. Floors creaked and voices murmured through solid doors as I passed but no one slowed my progress. I pushed open the door and was struck once more by the opulence of the room and my good fortune at arriving in such a place.
I struggled out of the unfamiliar gown and sat in front of the mirror to brush out my hair and to affix it in a braid for the night. Mrs. Doyleâs words echoed in my ears with every stroke, and my hand trembled. I was convinced Mrs. Doyle would turn me over to the police if she had the least cause to do so. And what better cause could there be than murder?
My dinner stirred wretchedly in my stomach, and I cast my eyes to the wardrobe where Millie had hung my own travel-wearygown. Surely there were other places to go. Places without someone watching my every move for signs of deception. Perhaps the best course of action would be to slip away as quickly as I had arrived. Usually, I would have consulted my cards when such weighty matters pressed down my spirits but I had left mine with the ones owned by Honoria and they rested in her room.
I pushed back the little stool and walked to the wardrobe. I might be a lot of the things Mrs. Doyle implied. I was adept in the art of deception. I was an excellent fraud and I was a confidence artist. I was an accomplished swindler. But I was not an outright thief. I would not leave with anything not my own.
I unbuttoned the front of my motherâs chemise and commenced to slip it off.
âTrust that your place is here.â
I paused as I heard the voice distinctly through the cloth of the chemise covering my ears. Not that the fabric mattered. Never had I so desperately wanted it to be real, to be giving wise counsel. I tugged off the borrowed garment and reached out for the brass knob on the wardrobe door.
âTrust that your place is here.â
I heard the words again, even louder now. They created a pressure in my head like that of being underwater. I stepped back from the wardrobe and went instead to the dresser. The drawers glided smoothly on their rails as I opened and shut them, looking for a nightgown. I might be mad to listen to such a voice but I remembered my promise to myself to heed its advice no matter how strange. I tucked myself into bed, blew out the bedside candle, and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
C HAPTER S EVEN
I was startled awake the next morning by a knock upon the door. The comfort of the bed and the smell of the sea drifting in through the opened window left me momentarily disoriented. As I remembered where I was and why I was there I threw back the coverlet and hoped it was not Mrs. Doyle, accompanied by a policeman, at the door.
Much to my relief, it was Millie there to help me choose an appropriate costume for the day and to fix my hair into something more suitable than the braid I wore for sleeping. She told me Honoria had once again sent her and had asked me to join her in the dining room once I was dressed.
I felt my steps falter as I approached the dining room. I hoped my aunt hadnât requested my presence to tell me Mrs. Doyle insisted I should be on my way. I paused at the doorway and gave myself a stern talking-to. I told myself I was a modern woman with a decent head on her shoulders. As much as I wanted to stay I would land on my feet if forced to leave. I stepped into the dining room with my chin lifted and a smile I did not feel on my face.
Honoria sat alone at a small table near a window. Her ownsmile as she glanced up at me looked welcoming and genuine. I felt my worries melt away, for the moment, at least.
âGood morning, Ruby dear. I trust you slept well?â
âIâve never spent a night in greater comfort.â Which was entirely true. There was no comparison to be made between the canvas and wooden folding cot I called my own at the medicine show and my motherâs high bed heaped with pillows and dressed with clean, smooth
I struggled out of the unfamiliar gown and sat in front of the mirror to brush out my hair and to affix it in a braid for the night. Mrs. Doyleâs words echoed in my ears with every stroke, and my hand trembled. I was convinced Mrs. Doyle would turn me over to the police if she had the least cause to do so. And what better cause could there be than murder?
My dinner stirred wretchedly in my stomach, and I cast my eyes to the wardrobe where Millie had hung my own travel-wearygown. Surely there were other places to go. Places without someone watching my every move for signs of deception. Perhaps the best course of action would be to slip away as quickly as I had arrived. Usually, I would have consulted my cards when such weighty matters pressed down my spirits but I had left mine with the ones owned by Honoria and they rested in her room.
I pushed back the little stool and walked to the wardrobe. I might be a lot of the things Mrs. Doyle implied. I was adept in the art of deception. I was an excellent fraud and I was a confidence artist. I was an accomplished swindler. But I was not an outright thief. I would not leave with anything not my own.
I unbuttoned the front of my motherâs chemise and commenced to slip it off.
âTrust that your place is here.â
I paused as I heard the voice distinctly through the cloth of the chemise covering my ears. Not that the fabric mattered. Never had I so desperately wanted it to be real, to be giving wise counsel. I tugged off the borrowed garment and reached out for the brass knob on the wardrobe door.
âTrust that your place is here.â
I heard the words again, even louder now. They created a pressure in my head like that of being underwater. I stepped back from the wardrobe and went instead to the dresser. The drawers glided smoothly on their rails as I opened and shut them, looking for a nightgown. I might be mad to listen to such a voice but I remembered my promise to myself to heed its advice no matter how strange. I tucked myself into bed, blew out the bedside candle, and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
C HAPTER S EVEN
I was startled awake the next morning by a knock upon the door. The comfort of the bed and the smell of the sea drifting in through the opened window left me momentarily disoriented. As I remembered where I was and why I was there I threw back the coverlet and hoped it was not Mrs. Doyle, accompanied by a policeman, at the door.
Much to my relief, it was Millie there to help me choose an appropriate costume for the day and to fix my hair into something more suitable than the braid I wore for sleeping. She told me Honoria had once again sent her and had asked me to join her in the dining room once I was dressed.
I felt my steps falter as I approached the dining room. I hoped my aunt hadnât requested my presence to tell me Mrs. Doyle insisted I should be on my way. I paused at the doorway and gave myself a stern talking-to. I told myself I was a modern woman with a decent head on her shoulders. As much as I wanted to stay I would land on my feet if forced to leave. I stepped into the dining room with my chin lifted and a smile I did not feel on my face.
Honoria sat alone at a small table near a window. Her ownsmile as she glanced up at me looked welcoming and genuine. I felt my worries melt away, for the moment, at least.
âGood morning, Ruby dear. I trust you slept well?â
âIâve never spent a night in greater comfort.â Which was entirely true. There was no comparison to be made between the canvas and wooden folding cot I called my own at the medicine show and my motherâs high bed heaped with pillows and dressed with clean, smooth