Whispers Beyond the Veil (4 page)

“I lay it facedown and repeat the process if I feel led to choose additional cards. I often pull three cards, sometimes more. Every
now and again I pull only one. Especially if the picture on the card seems right to me.”

I steadied my hands the best I could but was certain she could see them trembling ever so slightly as I shuffled the cards, wishing I felt more sure of what I was doing.

I concentrated on the feel of the thick deck in my hand. I sent up a silent wish that the cards would convince my aunt to offer me a place in her home. Allowing instinct to guide me I chose three cards and placed them on the table between us. I turned them over one at a time and looked closely at the images before me. Two cards were unfamiliar. The third was one from my original deck.

“What do these mean to you?” Honoria asked. I touched the first card from her deck. As I opened my mouth to answer I heard the familiar voice in my head speak more clearly than ever in my left ear.

“Homecoming. Celebration.”

Bearing the warning in mind I took a deep breath and shared what it said. “Four of Wands. This card looks like good news. It tells me it concerns a homecoming and a celebration.” Honoria's grip on the table loosened just enough for some pink to return to her knuckles. Watching her reaction I dared to hope I might be on the right track.

I tapped the second card. “The High Priestess,” I said before repeating the next thing the voice whispered in my ear. “Trust your inner voice. Knowledge of other realms.” Honoria nodded slightly.

I touched the third card and paused, waiting for guidance from the voice. It came again without delay. “The Wheel of Fortune means destiny and events set in motion. Unstoppable forces.”

Honoria released her grip on the table and tapped the card I had neglected to turn upright, the one that had jumped from the deck.

“And what of this one?” she asked. I turned it over and revealed the only card from my deck I feared. I didn't need the voice to speak to me for this one. It had appeared in my readings with an accurate prediction too many times for me to be uncertain of its meaning.

“The Tower. Upheaval and catastrophe.” I felt my mouth grow dry. I fought the urge to nibble on a thumbnail. If Honoria was counting on the cards to advise her, it looked like she would be unwise to extend an invitation to me to stay.

“Your mother shared one of her gifts with you. But there is room for you to develop your natural talents. Cards like the Tower have a positive side as well.”

“They do?”

“Yes. The Tower also asks you to notice which parts of your life are built on falsehood. It warns you to prepare for unstable foundations to crumble.”

“I am afraid I don't see how that is a positive card.”

“It makes way for that which is solid and beneficial. It sweeps away complacency and demands improvements that serve the greater good.”

“I see.”

“Shall I tell you what I asked of the cards?”

“Only if you wish to do so.” I was torn between wanting to know and being terrified to hear her thoughts.

“I asked what your arrival meant.” Honoria smiled at me and I felt my worry ease a bit. “The cards told me nothing surprising. They also did not reveal how you came to be here.”

I thought again of the hours on the train I had passed, carefully considering which aspects of my story I thought best to mention to my aunt. Despite my vow to go straight I'd been contemplating snipping and stitching the truth to cast Father as the victim of the accident that ended Johnny's life. It might make Honoria more inclined to welcome me if she believed I had no other family. As I opened my mouth to apply that bit of embroidery to the facts, I once more heard the voice speak with breathtaking clarity in my ear.

“Speak only truth, however conservatively.”

I had always worried the voice was a sign I would end up in an asylum. It occurred to me that perhaps the events of late had driven me mad. Or maybe the blow to my head when I fell had caused some sort of damage to my brain. Only insane people heard voices so frequently and with such clarity. Then my gaze swept over the High Priestess card, the one that spoke of intuition and the inner voice. Bearing it in mind I took a deep breath and took a chance on the truth. Or at least a tidy version of it.

“My father and I argued bitterly. I decided enough was enough and that I would take the chance that you would be here and would be glad to see me.”

“Just like that? Without planning of any kind?”

“I know it sounds rash and I don't wish to sound disloyal, but my father can be quite unreasonable as well as unreliable.” I decided to gamble that she would be favorably swayed by a sob story. “This argument, like so many others, ended in violence. When I left, my only thought was for my safety.” While strictly speaking that was the truth, I felt a twinge of guilt at the way I had presented it.

“He was heedless and impulsive when I knew him. I am sorry
to hear that with age his faults include a tendency to violence. Not that I am at all surprised.” Honoria reached over and patted my hand. The sparkling stones set into the many rings decorating her thick fingers sent flashes of colored light jouncing against the creamy striped wallpaper. “I've always said your place was here with me. That's just what I wrote to Ivory when he let me know my sister had passed on.”

“You offered to take me?” This was news to me.

“Certainly, I did.” Honoria dabbed at her eyes with a ruffled handkerchief. “Of course I knew Delphinia was expecting your arrival. She wrote to me several times after she left home. When her letters stopped and I began to dream of her instead, I knew she was gone.”

“I never knew anything about my mother other than her name and what she looked like from the photograph you sent her.” I reached into my purse once more and offered her the same envelope I had shown Officer Yancey. She removed the picture and stared at it silently for some time, tears cascading down her cheeks.

“Oh, my dear girl. I knew I should have persisted unrelentingly until Ivory gave you into my care. I offered to take you as soon as he contacted me about Delphinia's passing but he refused. He said you were his daughter and he would raise you himself.” Two bright spots pinked Honoria's cheeks. It appeared little love was lost between my aunt and father.

I felt a lump forming in my throat. I told myself it was just the strain of recent hours causing me to weaken. I pride myself on not falling prey to sentimental foolishness.

“That was very kind of you.”

“Nonsense. I wanted you desperately. I was convinced he was holding out for a monetary consideration in exchange for you.” I
felt myself stiffen at the thought of my father behaving so crassly and then slumped back into the settee as I acknowledged Honoria had rightly noted Father's priorities. As long as I'd known him, easy money was his true north. One of my greatest fears was that I was cut from the same bolt of cloth.

“And he didn't take you up on your offer?”

“To my amazement, when I suggested giving him a large sum outright he said you were not to be sold like a spring lamb or a suckling pig.”

“And?”

“And, I never heard from him again. I sent letters and telegrams. I placed advertisements of inquiry in papers throughout New Brunswick, Quebec, and even Ontario but no one had heard of either of you.” Perhaps Father's haphazard wanderings and countless name changes were less aimless than they had seemed.

“I wish word had reached us. I would have liked to have come to you before now.” I spoke those words completely without guile. Sitting there with my aunt, knowing someone had wanted to give me a stable life in a normal home felt too good to be true. Life on the road had been backbreaking and dirty. But worst of all was the loneliness. The only other child I had befriended on a show had succumbed to scarlet fever before we had known each other more than a few weeks.

“You're finally here and that's all that matters.” Honoria placed a plump finger under my chin and tilted my face to meet hers. “You look remarkably like her, you know. I was certain Delphinia had finally appeared to me when you made your entrance downstairs.”

“I'm sorry to have disappointed you. And for interrupting your group.”

“Your appearance was in no way a disappointment. Besides, it is the business of the Divination Circle to welcome the unexpected. We must have been as much of a surprise to you as you were to us.”

“I admit I was startled. Is the Divination Circle the group you were with when I burst in on you?”

“Yes. A few friends and I have been meeting together twice weekly to strengthen and develop our prognosticating abilities.”

“You mean séances and such?” I felt a tingling of excitement over the surface of my skin. When I was quite young, a medium joined our show and her performances drew vast crowds. After seeing the money Madame Zeroska raked in every night, Father bemoaned the fact that we had no experience with such things. In fact, it was that very medium who gave me the idea to start reading tarot cards between shows.

“Exactly that. In truth, the Divination Circle is the inspiration for the concept of this hotel.” Honoria beamed at me.

“How so?” The feverish light in Honoria's eyes suggested the hotel was her passion. If I was going to stay, I hoped it was a passion I could grow to share. Nothing is as intolerable as a zealot with whom you disagree.

“Should I assume you know nothing of the history of the hotel?”

“Until today I knew nothing more than what you can see in the photograph.” We both looked at it once more.

“I would dearly love to thrash your father over the head with a parasol for keeping you in the dark concerning your heritage,” Honoria said, giving me a start. Did her psychic developments extend to clairvoyance? “The property the Hotel Belden sits upon
has been in the family for generations. In fact, our family has been here since the early seventeen hundreds.”

“But the hotel doesn't look anywhere near as old as that.” For someone as rootless as I, the idea of having family in a single spot for almost two hundred years was astonishing.

“It isn't. Early on we were farmers and merchants. It wasn't until the Staples family opened their farmhouse to boarders that the hospitality industry began to grow.”

“And your family took part in it?”

“Our family, my dear.” Honoria gave my hand another firm squeeze. “We started taking in summer guests in the 1850s. Over the next decade we added small cottages around the edges of the property. Your grandparents built this hotel in 1874.”

“Are your parents still here?” I watched as a crinkle developed between Honoria's eyebrows. I wished I hadn't asked the question.

“They both passed suddenly the year your mother left with your father.” Honoria let out a deep sigh and forced a smile back to her face. “I inherited the hotel as quite a young woman and had little in the way of guidance in its running. I muddled along year after year, despairing as I watched the competing hotels becoming larger and more elegant.”

“It seems very grand here to me.” What little I had seen so far had impressed me greatly. The furnishings appeared plush or gleaming. The carved woodwork was ornate and the windows and passageways generously proportioned. The unobstructed view of the beach and the bay beyond only added to its charms.

“The Old Orchard House is comprised of three hundred rooms and is planning an elevated walkway connecting it to the train station. The Fiske boasts a telegraph office and a bowling
alley on site. I determined if I could not add physical amenities, I could offer a unique experience instead.” Honoria rose to her feet and paced the room. “The Hotel Belden caters to Spiritualists and other seekers of enlightenment.”

“You're courting psychics?” I thought of my father and how he would love just such a scheme. Something about the passion in Honoria's voice and mannerisms suggested she was more of a true believer than a cagey businesswoman.

“Exactly. The plan is to offer immersion in a multitude of spiritual subjects. I have hired experts in a number of disciplines to lead discussions, share knowledge, and to provide divination services. Table tipping, scrying, dowsing, astrological predictions all have a place here at the Hotel Belden.”

“Has the idea proved popular?” Perhaps such a thing was none of my business but I spoke without thinking. If Honoria was taken aback she did not show it.

“Remarkably so. Which is a very good thing, since I've had to delay our opening for an extra two weeks in order for the staff to arrive.”

“I wondered why there were so many people in town but it seemed so quiet here.”

“It was a difficult decision but one that had to be made. The delay was caused by the final member of our company, a medium named Flora Roberts, who couldn't arrive until tomorrow.”

“A medium must be important if her absence is enough to delay your opening.”

“Offering a medium in residence is the reason we're booked solid this season for the first time in years.” Honoria paused her pacing in front of one of the windows looking out over the beach.

“I hope my own appearance won't cause any disruption to your plans. You sound as though there is much to be done.”

“Your timing is perfection itself. For years I've wished for someone to share the hotel with once more. Come, let me show you the rest of the property.”

T
he wind had picked up and the tang of salt filled the air as Yancey hurried back to the police station. As diverting as a visit to the Hotel Belden had proven to be, his workload had become increasingly burdensome over the last few weeks. Not only had pickpockets flowed into town like a red tide, violent domestic incidents, carriage accidents, and liquor-fueled disturbances increased at a similar pace.

Frank Nichols gave Yancey a raised russet eyebrow as soon as he stepped through the door of the police station.

“Chief's been looking for you, and none too patiently, neither,” Frank said through a mouthful of food. “He's in his office. Said to send you in as soon as you got back.”

“Did he say what he wanted?” Yancey asked.

“Nope. But he had Jelly Roll with him so you ought to brace yourself for something rotten.” Frank dabbed at his luxuriant mustache with his handkerchief.

There was nothing that took the pleasure out of a fine summer afternoon like a chat with the chief. Unless it was a talk that also included the chief's brother-in-law, Robert Jellison, known to his
many detractors as Jelly Roll. Yancey took the time to place his hat on the rack near the door and to check his desk for any new messages. Deciding he could delay no longer, Yancey knocked on his superior's door and waited until he heard the growl from within.

“Very good of you to find time to make it in to work today,” Charles Hurley said, his feet propped up on the corner of his wooden desk. Robert Jellison lolled in the chair opposite the desk, sunlight glinting off his bald head.

“I've been out investigating a pickpocketing case, sir. The number of sneak thefts is climbing every day.”

“Petty crimes. I've got more important matters for you to turn your attention to today.” Chief Hurley waved his cigar, trailing a plume of smoke.

“A young woman was knocked unconscious during the attack.”

“Anyone important?” Robert Jellison asked, leaning forward with interest.

“Everyone is important,” Yancey said. “But this young woman happens to be Honoria Belden's niece.”

“Really?” Jellison's forehead crinkled into deep furrows. “I wasn't aware Miss Belden had any family left.”

“She must be her prodigal sister's child,” the chief said.

“I'd forgotten about her. Wasn't the hotel left solely to Miss Belden?” asked Jellison.

“It was. The sister, Delphinia, was disowned more than twenty years ago by her parents,” Chief Hurley said. Disgust filled Yancey as he detected a note of pleasure running in the currents of his boss's voice. “She snuck off in the dead of night with a man who was in town for the summer. People said she left carrying nothing but her shoes in her hand so as not to squeak the floorboards.”

“I remember now. It caused an uproar until that other
business caused even more fuss,” Jellison said. Yancey had heard enough. His tolerance for family scandals and gossip was lower than most. Perhaps because his firsthand experience with them was greater than average.

“Chief, you had something you wanted me to take care of?”

“That's right.” Chief Hurley stood and strode to the window. “The town fathers have made it clear that Old Orchard is on its way to being a world-class summer resort. In order to maintain that image we need to control the riffraff and undesirables.”

“Are you planning to increase the size of the force, sir? We could use at least two more men to adequately patrol the increased traffic around the pier.”

“No. There isn't any money for more officers. Still, the powers that be want results, not excuses.” Chief Hurley shot a glance at Jellison.

“What your boss is saying is that the Indians squatting behind my latest hotel purchase need to go. And soon. We don't want them hanging around in plain sight when the pier opens.”

“But they've been coming here in the summer since before there was a town. I don't see how we can ask them to leave.” Yancey's collar felt as though it had shrunk by two inches.

“We're not asking for your opinion,” Hurley said. “We're telling you to make them go.”

“Sir, I doubt what you're asking is legal.”

“You know what people said when I gave you this job. What they still say about taking a chance on you. Was I wrong to do so?” Hurley and Jellison both turned their gaze on Yancey.

“I know you took some heat, adding me to the force. I'll have a word with them.”

“The Orchard Beach Pier Company expects them gone before the pier opens. One way or another,” Jellison said.

“If you can't get this done, there are a lot of other men who would be happy to have your job.” Hurley turned his attention to a pile of papers on his desk. “Well, what are you still doing here? Get on with it.”

•   •   •

H
onoria moved like a hurricane through the hotel, blowing us from one room to the next. From the wine cellar to the rooftop balcony it was clear she loved every part of her home.

We concluded the tour in a large room at the top of the hotel. A fine lace spread covered the high bed, and a vanity table set with enameled hairbrushes, combs, and an elegant assortment of hatpins drew my attention. Nicest of all was the window seat, nestled into a turret overlooking the bay. Even with the windows tightly shut the sound of waves crashing on the beach filled my ears.

“This will be your room.” Honoria said. “I do hope you like it.”

“Are you sure you don't need to rent this room to a guest? You said yourself the hotel is completely booked for the season.”

“Every room but this one.” Smiling, Honoria looked around. “This room was your mother's and not a thing's been changed except adding electricity since she left. It's been waiting here for you all this time.”

“There is no way for me to thank you enough.”

“Having you here is entirely my pleasure. I expect you could use some time to rest and to change out of your travel clothes. When are your trunks being sent?”

“I'm afraid they aren't. The nature of my leave-taking was so abrupt and I boarded the train just as you see me.” That was the truth, so far as it went. Returning to our tent to pack my belongings had not seemed worth the risk. I shuddered to think what might have happened if I had not listened to the voice and taken what little I had when I set out of the tent for that last time.

“Quite incredible. We shall have you fitted for some new things as soon as possible, but in the meantime there are some of Delphinia's gowns hanging in the wardrobe.” Honoria waved to a massive walnut cabinet on the other side of the room. “They won't be the least bit fashionable but I expect they will fit.”

“I'm sure they will be lovely.”

“Have your rest, change, and come down for dinner at six. I'll introduce you to the staff then.” Honoria leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek. “I am quite certain your arrival heralds a new era here at the Belden.”

•   •   •

A
s soon as Honoria pulled the door shut behind her I raced around the room, unable to contain my excitement. Everything was perfect, simply perfect. I ran my hands over the velvet upholstered wingback chair and ottoman, inspected the tiled fireplace set into the wall opposite the bed, stood at the windows, and admired the breathtaking view. I climbed up onto the high bed to test it out and did not even attempt to resist bouncing on it as vigorously as I dared.

As tired as I was, I felt certain there was no chance I could fall asleep. I awoke an hour or so later with the distinct impression someone had been calling my name and shaking my
shoulder. The light in the window was slanting lower, and I hurried to the wardrobe and yanked open the door. Casting off my own rumpled clothing I felt spoilt for choice.

There were more gowns in the wardrobe than there had been women in the medicine show. I hardly knew how to choose. I felt a surge of anger as I looked around the room and considered what my life would have been like if my father had accepted Honoria's offer to take me. But then it occurred to me that dwelling on the past would not help me to enjoy my current situation. Anger had given me the push I needed to leave a life I did not wish to lead but it was not going to help me select a gown.

I wished I had thought to inquire of Honoria as to the formality of the dining room. Meals served in the medicine show's cook tent were unlikely to have prepared me for life in a hotel, especially one as fancy as the Belden. Just as I began to despair of making the right choice I heard a hesitant knock on the door. I reached for a jewel-toned crazy quilt draped over the wingback chair and wrapped it around myself. Even I knew better than to answer the door in my undergarments.

I cracked open the door and poked my head through the gap. Standing in the hall, looking down at her shoes was a girl I estimated to be a bit younger than myself.

“I hope I'm not disturbing you. I'm Millie. Miss Belden sent me to help you get ready for dinner,” she said. It had not occurred to me that such assistance could be available. I had always dressed myself. Certainly there were other women in the show, but since none of them lived in the same tent as Father and me, dressing had always been something I managed on my own.

Suddenly, I felt quite shy. That was, until I noticed how
uncomfortable Millie looked. She stood shifting what little weight she had between her two feet. I was even more sorry for her than I was nervous for myself. I knew I must put her at her ease.

“Please, come in.” I stepped back and gestured to the room beyond me. “I'm very glad to see you. I have absolutely no idea what to wear.” Millie slowly stepped across the threshold and looked around the room.

“I've never been in this room before now.” Millie lifted a finger to her mouth and nibbled at a hangnail.

I pressed the door into place and turned the solid brass lock, feeling a thrill at the luxury of doing so. Tents don't come with locks, and the rooming houses we had stayed in during the coldest months of the year were not given to such things, either. On occasion a better establishment might be fitted with a hook and eye screwed into the door and frame.

“That makes two of us. You said Honoria sent you. Do you work here at the hotel?”

“Yes, miss. In the summer, I do. Sometimes I help out in the fall or spring, too, if the need arises. I'm a maid, you see. The housecleaning kind, not the lady's maid sort. I'm not quite sure I'll know how to help you get ready.” Millie's lower lip wobbled and my heart lurched. I would need an ally in the house and the odds were that Millie knew a lot more about living amongst the upper crust than I did. Sharing my own trepidation with her might put us both at ease.

“May I tell you a secret, Millie?” I asked in a whisper. She dropped her finger from her mouth and nodded.

“I've never had a lady's maid to help me dress. Why don't we figure it out together?”

Millie's face brightened into an enormous smile. “It's a deal,” she said. “What a lot of gowns you have.”

“That's just the trouble. There are so many of them and in truth, none of them are mine. I arrived with nothing but the clothes on my back and my trusty parasol.”

“You never did.” Millie's mouth hung open.

“I did indeed. So now we'll have to see what there is in here that fits me. Let's take a look.”

We flicked through the choices and then decided the most sensible thing was to first settle on a pair of shoes. There were fewer of those lined up along the floor of the wardrobe, some vastly more comfortable than others.

“The red satin are certainly the best,” I said, tipping my foot this way and that to admire the daintiest shoe I had ever worn.

“What about this one, miss? It goes with your name as well as the slippers.” Millie held out a gown of rich red taffeta. “And will look a treat with your dark hair.” I nodded, and between the two of us we managed to wriggle me into the swaths of fabric without damage to the garment or myself. It had to be rebuttoned only twice. It was a miracle.

“I hope you won't mind the lack of sleeves, miss.” Millie scowled into the long mirror built into the wardrobe door. “Most of the ladies are wearing sleeves as big as hot-air balloons these days.”

I stared at my reflection, hardly able to breathe both from the astonishment at what I saw and from the close fit of the bodice. “It is the very prettiest thing I have ever worn. Fashionable or not, I'm delighted with it. And do please call me Ruby.” Millie smiled and moved to the dressing table. She leaned over the mirrored tray covered in brushes and combs, hatpins and boot hooks.

“Now, let's see about your hair,” she said, pointing to the upholstered seat in front of the vanity table. I eased myself onto the
chair, careful not to step on the flowing hem of the dress. Millie seemed much more sure of herself with a hairbrush in her hand than she had with the layers of undergarments and the complicated mechanics of the evening gown.