Midnight Secrets

Dedication

To all those who fill my heart, thank you for your love, encouragement and understanding. Because of you I can dream, believe, create, love and hopefully inspire.

“Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all…”

~Emily Dickinson

“Behold, I show you a mystery;

We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed,

In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye…”

I Corinthians 15:51-52

Chapter One

May 1879

Oxford, England

“I left our shells on the rocks! I’ll be right back.”

“Cassie! No! They’re too far out. The waves are coming in too fast.”

“And you worry too much. I’ll hurry.” Turning, I dashed into the cool sea, laughing at the salty spray splashing my face and bonnet. Within a few steps I knew Mary was right. The sea swirled deeper and more wildly than earlier, but confidence spurred me on. I hurried to the rocks and snatched up our precious pheasant shells moments before a wave swelled over their resting place. Triumphant, I held up my hand. Mary and I had spent the entire morning searching for two shells that exactly matched. We were twins in spirit, though only cousins by blood, and since our faces were dissimilar, our shells had to be alike.

My smile died to a gasp of surprise to see Mary stumbling toward me through the water, horror on her face. She pointed at something behind me. I spun around, grasping for balance as the sea sucked the sand out from under my feet. A burgeoning wave nearly twice my height rushed toward us. I screamed, running for Mary, but the rushing tide caught my flannel gown, billowing it like a sail in a stiff wind, pulling me out to sea. I fought, crying in frustration as I saw Mary floundering too.

“Go back,” I yelled at her.

“No! Not without you! We’re twins. Everything together, remember?”

The sea roared and crashed around me. I had only moments before I would be swept under by its churning power.

“Cassie! Cassie! Oh Cassie!” Mary cried as if grieving deeply for me.

I reached for her. Just as our fingers touched, the wall of water slammed into her, and she hung, suspended in the wave for a moment as her beautiful, golden hair floated like a halo about her head before she disappeared into darkness.

“Mary! Mary! Mary!”

Waking with my own cries echoing in the stillness of the dawn, I shivered with dread. The few dreams I’d had in my life had not been of fanciful fairytales or princes and castles. They’d been omens of trouble or death. Always. My hands trembled as I clasped them together, praying for Mary and myself, because no matter how hard I tried to erase this abnormal darkness from my life, it continued to haunt me.

This time, my dream confused me, though. Much of it had been an accurate memory of the moment Mary’s life and my life had irrevocably changed when we were ten. And this dream had been unlike my other dreams, where I’d follow my nanny or my grandparents through a long tunnel, calling to them continuously as they disappeared into darkness. Soon after those dreams, usually the next day, news would come that they had died.

Pale gray light filtered through my lace curtains, casting a fractured pattern of shadows over the Asian carpet and the watered silk of my walls. I rose and opened a window, drawing in deep breaths of air, hoping the morning songs of the birds and the scent of spring blossoms would chase away the darkness. They didn’t. Very little of the sun’s warmth seeped though the dawn and the cold inside me grew, tightening a band of worry around my heart.

Going to my vanity, I picked up the pheasant shell from amongst my treasured combs and perfumes. I ran my fingertip over the rippled surface and the carved M in it, remembering. That day, Mary had come after me in the sea. There had been a huge wave, and Mary had nearly drowned trying to save me, just as I had dreamed. But we’d both lived through the experience. So why had I dreamed differently now?

Had I, for the first time in my life, had a normal dream? Or was the dream a reflection of what had happened in Mary’s life and in mine since that day? Mary never went into the sea again, yet she frequently painted its glory and fury, unable to look away from it for long, as if held fascinated by the power that had almost killed her. Her obsession with capturing the sea on canvas and her need to help those who couldn’t help themselves had drawn her far from her family. Last year she’d accepted a post in Cornwall to teach a blind child at an isolated estate by the sea.

For me, the changes in my life had been subtler, but just as deep. I still ventured into the sea, to my ankles at the most, though. And I still gathered shells, but only from the sand, far beyond the grasp of the sea. In short, I firmly adhered to all things safe, practical and proper, exactly as a lady should.

Sliding the shell into my pocket, I dressed, taking care to erase any worry from my expression.
Never let your dreams be known, Cassie
, my mother had said to me all of my life. Just as she told Andromeda to never reveal her ability to read another person’s thoughts with only a touch of her hand. There were people who wouldn’t understand my sister and me, and I didn’t question my mother’s advice, for I’d seen the harshness with which the world treated those who were different. Only our family knew of my dreams and Andromeda’s gift and we rarely, if ever, spoke of them.

Upon leaving my room, I ordered a telegram sent immediately to my Aunt Lavinia in Brighton, inquiring if she’d heard from Mary recently then went in search of my sisters. There was nothing more I could do about my dream.

I found Andromeda and Gemini in the breakfast room, discussing the plans for the day.

“Cassie! You must talk some sense into Andrie. I need you both to attend the Eversmores’ tea with me this afternoon and she won’t come!”

Andromeda knitted her brow. “I don’t see why I should have to spend a boring afternoon pretending that I’m the least bit interested in gossip or fashion. I’m expecting father’s next shipment of artifacts to arrive any day now, and I want to be here when it comes.”

Father often said God had blessed him with all the gold a man could want in three golden-haired daughters, but he still chased after the promise of riches rather than being a staid professor. A treasure hunter at heart, he satisfied his urgings under the guise of archeology, and my mother followed happily in his wake. Currently, they sought a gold temple Alexander the Great had built to procure Apollo’s favor.

“You should have mentioned this earlier, Gemmi. I can’t go either. I have fifty posts to read and answer today. ‘Cassiopeia’s Corner’ doesn’t write itself.”

And news of Mary to wait for
, I thought then shook off a chill and forced a smile. To my surprise Gemini burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. Andromeda looked at me and shrugged.

Being the practical, sane voice in the midst of the Andrews family chaos was a lonely post and mine to bear. My parents traveled to numerous exotic ports on a budget, sending artifacts for Andromeda to study, and Gemini flitted to what limited social opportunities our position as daughters of a professor at Oxford afforded us. Between the responsibility and drama in caring for my sisters, I spent my time writing a proper etiquette column for
The Exemplary Ladies Journal
, an endeavor which added to the family’s meager coffers, rather than drain them.

“Gemmi, whatever is the matter?” I slid my arm around her shoulders and handed her a napkin.

She grabbed the cloth and dabbed at her eyes. “Now that I’m old enough to attend parties, neither of you go anymore. I’m sure we’d receive more invitations, perhaps even to a ball or house party, if you and Andrie would bother to attend anything. And today, well I just need your help!”

“Heavens, Gemmi. You know you can always count on our help.” But I feared she was setting herself up for heartbreak. No matter how much proper polish I applied to our family with my column, it would never cover our lack of bloodlines or bohemian-like lifestyle. “What do you need for Andrie and me to do? And why must we attend the tea to do it?”

“I need you to keep Lucinda Swaith away from Lord Percy so that I might have a few moments of his attention without her running up and batting her lashes at him. She’s been doing it constantly since he returned from London. I truly think he’s interested in me, but Lucinda keeps intruding.”

“Two weeks constant? It’s a wonder her eyelids haven’t fallen off.” Andromeda batted her eyes causing Gemini to giggle through her tears. “If you want my opinion, Gemmi, if Lord Percy’s attentions are so easily swayed, then you are better off without them.”

Gemini wailed again at that remark. Heavens. Andromeda and I had never been this distraught over a man’s affections on any level. But then, we were different than others, different than Gemini, and maybe she needed our support in this matter even more than she needed Lord Percy’s attentions.

“I don’t think Gemmi wants to hear that right now.” I bit my lip in consternation because that is exactly what I would have advised in “Cassiopeia’s Corner”. Apparently, advice didn’t help a smidge with feelings. “One hour. Andrie and I will come and keep Lucinda occupied. Then you’ll be on your own.”

“Cassie!” Andromeda cried, almost close to tears herself now. “I just know the artifacts will arrive! And I won’t be here!”

“They’ve lain in the dirt for centuries. An hour or two longer in a crate isn’t going to harm them.”

Andromeda gasped as if I had blasphemed, and Gemini giggled, her storm of tears already over.

The day was not off to a promising start, and the Eversmores’ tea was everything Andromeda had predicted, an endless showcase for gossip and fashion, upon both of which Lucinda appeared to be an expert.

At least it was turning out to be a success for Gemini. Lord Percy had spent the better part of the past hour at her side. Later, I would have to inform Gemini that Lucinda constantly batted her eyes at anyone with whom she spoke. And I could readily see how distracting conversation with her would be for anyone. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her face, not because of its pleasantness, but because I kept looking, waiting for her
not
to blink. It was dizzying.

Finally, I turned my thoughts back to my dream and Mary, distracting myself enough from the blinking to be able to glance about the room only to see Andromeda rushing toward me, clearly distressed.

She must have news of Mary
, I thought. Our housekeeper would have forwarded any messages to us here.

Andromeda grabbed my hand before I could clear my mind of my worry that death had claimed someone I loved and my sister gasped as if I’d struck her when she read my mind. She released my hand and turned as white as the lace on her blue damask dress. “You had a dream,” she whispered.

“Yes.” I sighed and looked at Lucinda. “Excuse us.” I motioned for Andromeda to follow me to the corner where we wouldn’t be overheard.

“Mother and Father?” Andromeda asked, her hands already shaking.

“No. I dreamed of Mary.” I set my hand on hers and she didn’t pull away. “But this dream was different than the others, so I’m not sure what it means.”

She exhaled and gave my fingers a reassuring squeeze. “Perhaps it’s just like when you dreamed of me. Remember? The only thing that happened was I became ill with a lung ailment.”

Remember? I would never forget the terror I’d felt, nor the look in my mother’s eyes when I told her I’d dreamed of Andromeda dying. It was the first time in my life my mother had stepped away from me rather than comfort me. “Let’s hope. What were you coming to tell me? It looked important.”

Anger stiffened her face. “It is important. We need to get Gemmi away from Lord Percy and never let her near him again. His intentions are not honorable.”

“What makes you say that? Did you…did you touch his hand and read his mind?” To Andromeda, her gift was a terrible curse to bear. The stronger a person’s emotions, the easier and clearer she could read their thoughts. As a child, she had readily interacted with others, but once we grew older, she shied away from being with people at all.

“No. Thank heavens. If I had been close to Lord Percy when I learned this, I most likely would have hit him. I overheard Lord Chauncey tell some other dandy that Lord Percy had to marry an heiress or face ruin from his gambling debts.”

“But Gemmi is no heiress.”

“Lord Percy has learned of Father’s expedition. And since Gemmi’s so pretty, he’s staying close enough to sweep her off her feet should Father find gold. He’s also seeing an heiress in London, too.”

“Well, it is a good thing we came to the tea after all. Honestly, I was already questioning Lord Percy’s attention to Gemmi. I mean, I know she is very pretty, but with no dowry and only academic titles in our lineage…Dear me, we must break this to her gently, Andrie.” Unfortunately, as I glanced at Gemini across the room and saw her eyes alight with adoration for Lord Percy, I didn’t think there would be any easy way to tell her.