Hubert among their acquaintances here in St. Charles.
Taking up the bundle of letters, Fannie went to the window seat facing the river. Her hands shaking, she slipped another of Aunt Edith’s letters from beneath the yellow silk ribbon.
It is required in stewards, that a man be found faithful.
1 C ORINTHIANS 4:2
“ Land sakes , child, didn’t you hear me calling?” Hannah hesitated at the door to Mother’s room.
Fannie looked up from the letter she’d been reading. “I found . . . these.” She pointed to the pile of letters next to her. She held her hand up to show Hannah the amethyst ring. “And this.” Why did Hannah’s silence make her feel like a naughty child caught misbehaving? “I wasn’t snooping. I had to check all the drawers to make sure I had everything.”
Hannah crossed the room and, sitting down next to her, took Fannie’s hand and peered down at the ring. “I never saw her wear this.”
“It matches her necklace and earrings. I found it in a separate box tucked toward the back of the middle drawer.”
Hannah pointed at the jewelry box sitting atop the dressing table across the room. “Was everything else still there?”
“As far as I can tell.” Fannie picked up the leather envelope. “This was beneath Mother’s handkerchiefs. Filled with letters. And this.”
Hannah took the cabinet portrait Fannie held out. “My, my,” she murmured. “Your mother was a stunning woman.” She shook her head. “I never knew her to dress so . . . stylish.”
“Turn it over,” Fannie said. “See the name? It isn’t Mother.” She grabbed the stack of letters. “These are all from the woman in the photograph. She’s my aunt.” She couldn’t keep the accusatory tone out of her voice. “I can’t imagine Mother keeping something like a twin sister from you for the better part of twenty years.”
Hannah stiffened. “Well, imagine it, little miss, because I’m just as surprised as you.” She handed the photo back and stood up. “I’d never stand by while you were burying your own mother and let you think you didn’t have another living soul in this world to turn to.” Her chin trembled. She waved a hand at the letters. “I’ve never seen those in all the years I’ve worked in this house and I never heard a word breathed about anyone named Edith. Not a word.”
Fannie reached for her hand. “Please, Hannah. Don’t be angry with me.” Her voice wavered. “Of course I believe you. It’s just—I don’t understand. She sounds wonderful . ” Hannah sat back down. “In every letter—in every single one—she mentions something breathtaking. A ball given by the queen of Spain. A gondola outing in Venice.”
Fannie touched the ring. “Do you think I could keep this? I mean, wear it?”
“I don’t know why not,” Hannah said. “It belongs to you, now. Of course it’ll have to wait until you’re out of mourning.” She gestured toward the jewelry box. “Best to put it in there with the rest and let Mr. Vandekamp watch over it for now.”
Mr. Vandekamp. Hubert. Fannie reached for the letter and read it aloud. “Do you think Aunt Edith’s Hubert could be Hubert Vandekamp?”
Hannah shrugged. “I suppose that would be a question for Mr. Vandekamp. And out of respect for your mother, I’d suggest that be a private conversation. She clearly had her reasons for not wanting anyone to know about any of this.”
As Fannie gazed down at the woman named Edith , her stomach growled.
Hannah rose again and headed for the door. “Unless you want cold stew for supper, you need to lay aside all of that business and follow me downstairs.”
After supper, Fannie spent the better part of the night alternating between reading Aunt Edith’s letters and gazing at her photograph. As the night wore on, confusion transformed into dismay. By the time the indigo sky began to blush with pink, dismay had blossomed into full-blown resentment against the parents who’d robbed her
Taking up the bundle of letters, Fannie went to the window seat facing the river. Her hands shaking, she slipped another of Aunt Edith’s letters from beneath the yellow silk ribbon.
It is required in stewards, that a man be found faithful.
1 C ORINTHIANS 4:2
“ Land sakes , child, didn’t you hear me calling?” Hannah hesitated at the door to Mother’s room.
Fannie looked up from the letter she’d been reading. “I found . . . these.” She pointed to the pile of letters next to her. She held her hand up to show Hannah the amethyst ring. “And this.” Why did Hannah’s silence make her feel like a naughty child caught misbehaving? “I wasn’t snooping. I had to check all the drawers to make sure I had everything.”
Hannah crossed the room and, sitting down next to her, took Fannie’s hand and peered down at the ring. “I never saw her wear this.”
“It matches her necklace and earrings. I found it in a separate box tucked toward the back of the middle drawer.”
Hannah pointed at the jewelry box sitting atop the dressing table across the room. “Was everything else still there?”
“As far as I can tell.” Fannie picked up the leather envelope. “This was beneath Mother’s handkerchiefs. Filled with letters. And this.”
Hannah took the cabinet portrait Fannie held out. “My, my,” she murmured. “Your mother was a stunning woman.” She shook her head. “I never knew her to dress so . . . stylish.”
“Turn it over,” Fannie said. “See the name? It isn’t Mother.” She grabbed the stack of letters. “These are all from the woman in the photograph. She’s my aunt.” She couldn’t keep the accusatory tone out of her voice. “I can’t imagine Mother keeping something like a twin sister from you for the better part of twenty years.”
Hannah stiffened. “Well, imagine it, little miss, because I’m just as surprised as you.” She handed the photo back and stood up. “I’d never stand by while you were burying your own mother and let you think you didn’t have another living soul in this world to turn to.” Her chin trembled. She waved a hand at the letters. “I’ve never seen those in all the years I’ve worked in this house and I never heard a word breathed about anyone named Edith. Not a word.”
Fannie reached for her hand. “Please, Hannah. Don’t be angry with me.” Her voice wavered. “Of course I believe you. It’s just—I don’t understand. She sounds wonderful . ” Hannah sat back down. “In every letter—in every single one—she mentions something breathtaking. A ball given by the queen of Spain. A gondola outing in Venice.”
Fannie touched the ring. “Do you think I could keep this? I mean, wear it?”
“I don’t know why not,” Hannah said. “It belongs to you, now. Of course it’ll have to wait until you’re out of mourning.” She gestured toward the jewelry box. “Best to put it in there with the rest and let Mr. Vandekamp watch over it for now.”
Mr. Vandekamp. Hubert. Fannie reached for the letter and read it aloud. “Do you think Aunt Edith’s Hubert could be Hubert Vandekamp?”
Hannah shrugged. “I suppose that would be a question for Mr. Vandekamp. And out of respect for your mother, I’d suggest that be a private conversation. She clearly had her reasons for not wanting anyone to know about any of this.”
As Fannie gazed down at the woman named Edith , her stomach growled.
Hannah rose again and headed for the door. “Unless you want cold stew for supper, you need to lay aside all of that business and follow me downstairs.”
After supper, Fannie spent the better part of the night alternating between reading Aunt Edith’s letters and gazing at her photograph. As the night wore on, confusion transformed into dismay. By the time the indigo sky began to blush with pink, dismay had blossomed into full-blown resentment against the parents who’d robbed her
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