Bride of a Distant Isle by Sandra Byrd

shall look forward to your musical evening with great anticipation.”
    â€œAs shall I,” I said, and hoped my joy shone through my demeanor. I believed that it did, and Lady Somerford returned my humor with a glint in her eye.
    â€œI shall enjoy becoming better acquainted, young lady.” She snapped her fan at Watts, who called for the lady’s carriage driver, and they were off.
    I returned to my rooms, sat at my dressing table, and patted powder on my face. In spite of the happy ending, the encounter had been rather taxing.
    Something red glinted in the setting summer sun. I reached over to the open India box in which I kept my hair combs. My plain ones had been added to!
    After the fuss over the necklace, I could hardly ask Clementine, Mrs. Watts, or Maud.
    I plucked out the first pair; they had long, sharp teeth made of costly jet. These were set with rubies and what looked to be diamonds. I had never owned anything so fine. But I did seem to recognize them from somewhere. Clementine? Had Clementine worn them and then had them delivered to me, in keeping with our newly prominent station?
    The second new set was encrusted with high-quality clear crystals. I did not recognize it.
    As I mulled it over, I thought I remembered where I had seen them.
    In a portrait.
    Late that night, after I was certain that the household was asleep, the fires all cooled, and no one would see me, I pulled on my dressing gown, blew out my lamp, and slipped down the stairs. I quietly tiptoed to the ground floor, hoping the creaking would not give me away. It was nearly the end of the month, and there was a new moon, which meant scarce light found its way through the windows. Thank you , I thought, for little graces .
    I turned right down the long vestibule that led to the ballroom, now mostly packed. Perhaps it would need to be unpacked; now that the Somerfords had invited us to a social event, Edward would have to reciprocate. The doors were shut, and I opened one quietly, then pulled it closed behind me. Nothing. Silence.
    And then . . . a noise.

CHAPTER NINE

    I stood statue still, but no further sounds aroused my concern. In the dark, I passed the shrouded game tables and the piano, which had long been closed; Clementine did not play well. The thick dust covers on the furniture rustled against my dressing gown, the rough fabric catching on the smooth, like hands clawing at me each time I tried to pull loose. I shook off the sensation with a shiver and turned toward the window. I pulled back the curtains, stirring up a frenzy of dust, and coughed once, twice. But it had done what I needed it to do. It let in sufficient starlight so that I could clearly see the very thing I thought I’d remembered and now sought.
    Hung near a sea-facing window was a portrait of the Ashton daughters: my mother, Julianna, and Edward’s mother, Judith. They were formally gowned, facing each other in profile. My mother’s blond hair was swept back and rolled up, then held by combs studded with rubies, the very combs I now held in my hands.
    My mother. Her hair had been rolled and teased exactly as I wore my own. Had I adopted that unconsciously, after having seen the portrait? Or was it simply a style that flattered me? I recalled a moment, long ago.
    I reached up and patted her hair that looked like nothing so much as sunlit strands wrapped into a spool anchored by jewels. “So pretty, Mama, so pretty.”
    She reached out and traced the outline of my face. “So pretty, sweetness, so pretty.” We both giggled, and she carried me down the hallway.
    A creaking noise brought me back to the present. I stilled myself, but then there was nothing more. I reached under the collar of my nightgown. Yes, the necklace was still there; I gripped it like a holy relic. What was happening? How were all of these items being returned to me, and by whom, and why now?
    Perhaps they had been there all along, as Maud suggested. In