The Story of the Steal-Me Book

A place to post the twistynesses.

During my hiatus...

Here's what we've gotten since the last post, for those of you who are curious...

Ree shook herself as the memory faded. She walked over to the mirror, trying to get used to the way the petticoats swished around her. Her dress was a deep green with exquisite beadwork across the bodice. It was beautiful, if you overlooked the fact that breathing wasn’t figured into the design of it. “Gwennie, how in the world can you be comfortable in this? How are you supposed to breathe? Or sit?”

Gwennie chuckled at her sister’s discomfort. “It’s a talent, dear sister. Now come on! We don’t want to be late. I should warn you, however, that there will be several girls I don’t know so be nice.”

“When am I not nice?”

“Do you really want me to answer that? Meet me at the door. I want to check the carriage before we leave.” Gwennie left the room with a grin.

“Well, at least I can nip down to the kitchens before we leave,” Ree muttered to herself as she maneuvered her way out.

When Ree walked into the kitchens, everything froze for a second as the cooks stared at her. A few snickered and returned to their work. The aromas alone made Ree’s stomach grumble. A woman with flour on her arms up to the elbows looked up from the dough she was kneading and said, “Why, Miss Rhianna, whatever in the world are you doing in here at this time of day? We’d heard Miss Gwendolyn had managed to get you to tea today.”

“Yes, that’s where we’re going now,” Ree said hurriedly. “But I’m just sure that the food there will be dreadful. Finger sandwiches and such. Please, I’m begging. Can you make me something to eat before I go?”

“But of course, Miss Rhianna.” The cook dusted her hands off and waved over one of the girls to continue with the dough. She hurried over to the pot hanging by the fire, dipped out a bowlful, and brought it to Ree. Just as Ree was lifting the spoon to her mouth she heard a voice in the doorway.

“Rhianna Elizabeth McAllister! What do you think you are you doing?” Gwennie cried from the doorway. “You’ll ruin your appetite, if not your dress!”

“Damn. I almost got to taste it too,” Ree mumbled, then louder said, “Oh, you mean they’re going to feed us at tea? I thought we’d just sit around sipping tea and talking embroidery and who’s the most handsome bachelor of the week.”

Gwennie glared at her, a glint of tears in her eyes. Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the kitchen.

“Oh blast! Now I’ve done it. Well, thanks for the effort anyway,” Ree said to the kitchen in general. “I have to go smooth her feathers before she does something I’ll regret.”

Gwennie was just walking through the front door when Ree caught up to her. The butler looked at Gwennie’s face, slightly puffed with unshed tears, then at Ree’s expression of grim determination and wisely decided to say nothing as they passed him on the way out. Normally, the girls were bickering good-naturedly and stopped to either thank him or try to draw him into their conversations. Only twice in the fifteen years he’d been here had he seen the girls pass with those expressions. The first was when they buried their . Their parents had passed on before he was hired. The second time, as this one, he wasn’t quite sure what had happened but there was a tense air to the house for days until the sisters made up. Or, more accurately, Ree went and apologized to Gwennie.

They climbed into the coach in tense silence. Ree looked at Gwennie and sighed.

“Look, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. You know how often I speak first and think later. We’ve been through this, not two hours ago if I recall.”

Gwennie looked out at the passing houses. She wasn’t about to let Ree off the hook so easily this time. Didn’t Ree understand how important these events were, especially to Gwennie. It was hard enough to hear the whisperings and polite criticisms of the ladies in town.

“Gwennie, I said I was sorry. What can I do to make it right? Do you want me to cut out my own tongue? Stop thinking for myself? Wear one of these damned corsets every day? What? Talk to me. Please.” Ree saw the hint of a smile twitch her sister’s mouth. “Okay, I’ll wear a nice dress and do my hair up all fancy every day for a week if you’ll just forgive me. Is that enough? Will that make you smile and play nice with me again?”

“It would make me smile, but when have we ever played nice with each other? Unless you count my dragging you out of the Ash time and again as playing nice. I generally refer to it as saving your neck.”

“I never started those and you know it. It’s just that some of them are so laughably obvious. I’m just putting them in their place… mostly. Sometimes, it’s purely for the amusement value. You know how Lana loves a good show in her tavern.”

“Yes, but I would think that she also loves to have her tavern in one piece when she closes for the night. The way you provoke the men sometimes makes me despair of you ever finding, or should I say keeping, a man.” Gwennie giggled as Ree’s jaw dropped open. “You think I don’t hear things about you? Remember, Lana is my friend too. And since you won’t tell me what goes on in there and I think you would dig out Daddy’s old shotgun if I ever went in by myself, I have to get my information elsewhere.”

“I…ah…um…well, blast it,” Ree stuttered. “I think I should have a word or two with our Miss Lana next time I see her.”

“Oh, and Ree? Try not to swear with these ladies. I really do think they would faint of shock hearing some of the words you use coming out of a lady’s mouth. Better yet, just try not to talk too much at all.”

“What am I supposed to do, then?”

“Just try to be more like me, for once.”

“What? What do you mean by that, Gwendolyn Nicole?”

Gwennie tried not to laugh and looked out of the coach again. She saw the impressive house and ladies in elegant afternoon gowns outside before Ree did and gave a little sigh. “Looks like we’re here.”

***

While Gwennie and Ree were bickering in the coach, Demona was giving her daughter some last minute instructions.

“Melinda, don’t gorge yourself on the cakes. And sit up straight when you sit. It is unbecoming when you slouch. Oh, and be polite! If I’ve taught you anything, it should show today.” Demona barked at her. She turned to look out at the coaches that were coming up the road. Melinda rolled her eyes behind her mother’s back. “And don’t you dare roll your eyes at me again. It makes you look stupid.”

Melinda never could understand how her mother always knew what she was doing. It never occurred to her that there were mirrors everywhere in the house. She walked to one and checked her reflection in its surface.

“Are they here yet? I’m starving,” she whined while tugging on an errant curl.

Demona smoothed her skirts and shook her head. “Sometimes I despair of ever getting you married to someone worthy of our status. All you think about is food.” She sighed. “At least the spots are mostly cleared up on your face this time.”

“I thought we were planning on my marrying Evan, Mother,” Melinda said, a dreamy look replacing the scowl on her face.

“Yes, dear, we are,” Demona said slowly. “But we have to see what you’re going up against as well. Do you think I like having all these girls and their mothers in my house?”

“Oh, get over yourself, Mother. You know you love the attention. You love having all these people here gawking at all the things you’ve collected from your various husbands,” Melinda heard herself say.

Demona’s arm snaked out as she slapped Melinda across the face. The sharp sound of it echoed in the room. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again! I’m doing all of this for you, and I’ll not have you ruining it by opening your mouth. Now, go fix your make-up. I’ll make your excuses for a few moments.”

Melinda’s eyes were glassy with shock. She knew her mother had a sharp tongue, but this was the first time she’d ever been struck. She hurried from the room to patch up her make-up.

Demona turned and walked toward the front door. “Graves, open the doors. It’s time we started this tea,” she ordered and positioned herself in the archway.

***

Gwennie wandered around the house, a look of intense concentration on her pretty face. There was something different, she just couldn’t figure out what it was. As she walked from room to room, the look of concentration was replaced by a scowl. She hadn’t heard a peep out of Ree for over an hour. Normally, when she was home, Ree was stalking around the library, or chatting with the kitchen staff. Gwennie hadn’t seen or heard from her since they got home from tea at Mistress Summers’ house. None of the house staff seemed to know where she went, either. Finally, Gwennie ventured up to the third floor. This area was mainly used as an attic, and the girls hadn’t been up there since they were children. The musty smell of unaired rooms made Gwennie’s nose twitch as she looked around.

“Ree? Are you up here?” she called nervously. She never did like coming up here when she was little. All the sheet-covered furniture put her in mind of a graveyard. A place where the furniture came to die, or be forgotten.

Several muffled thumps had a scream clawing her throat. She swallowed it back and continued down the long hall, looking into the open doors as she passed them. The farther she walked, the louder the sounds became. Finally, she started hearing muttered curses and unintelligible phrases. A little less fearful, Gwennie walked faster toward the voice.

“Ree? What in the world are you doing up here?” she said as she came to the last open door in the hall.

“Bloody Hell! Don’t do that!” Ree jumped up, clutching her chest. “I remembered something when we were at that woman’s house. Granddad used to put things up here from the library sometimes. I think there might be another journal or two up here.”

Gwennie rolled her eyes at her sister’s bent head. “I thought you just wanted Grandfather’s book back. Had I known you were going to continue this madness, I wouldn’t have helped you get the blasted book back.”

“It isn’t madness and you know it.” Ree’s voice became muffled as her head disappeared into one of the many trunks in the room.

“Why do you insist on believing that fairy tale to be real, anyway?”

“Because there are too many details for it not to be. Granddad told us that same story for three years. If you think about it, he rarely changed it. My theory is that he only changed it when he had new information. I think he was making sure we knew the clues in case something happened to him.” Ree didn’t stop her searching while relaying this to Gwennie. Each time she delved into the trunk, her voice grew muffled, so Gwennie had to keep leaning forward and back to hear.

“Would you sit still for a moment, please. I am getting nauseated trying to keep up with your ramblings,” Gwennie complained.

“See, I remember Granddad telling me that sometimes he would put some of his ‘special journals’ up here for safe-keeping until we were older.” She picked up a doll Grandfather had given her on her eighth birthday. “He said he was going to show me the treasure map when I turned ten. Then, not two weeks later, those horrible men came and killed him…” Ree paused for a moment. “If I ever find out who they were, I’ll…”

Gwennie cleared her throat to stop Ree from finishing. Ree looked down at the doll clutched in her hands. She straightened its hair and dress, then laid it down gently beside the trunk with everything else she’d taken out so far.

Gwennie glanced into the nearly empty trunk and was about to suggest they go visit Lana when a glint caught her eye. “What’s this?” she asked, and pulled an ornate object that resembled a key out from where it was wedged into the corner of the trunk.

It didn’t look like any of the keys for the manor - they were all simple iron keys. This key looked as if it would open the world itself. It was as big as Gwennie’s hand and was surprisingly light for its size. Although it looked to be made of gold, silver and some other metal, it also had the appearance of pieces missing from it. As if it were a puzzle nearly completed.

“This doesn’t look like any key I’ve ever seen before,” Gwennie said as she held it up to the late afternoon sunlight. “It looks like it has been broken or something.”

“Let me see it.” Ree reached out to take it from Gwennie but was astonished when Gwennie pulled it out of reach.

“I shall let you examine it after we have gone to the party.” She tucked the key into a fold of her skirt as she got up to leave. “Now, we must get you dressed. Come on, dear sister.”

 

posted by: MizLiciouss at December 10, 2005 11:52 | link | comments |
the tale