“She may have stolen it.”
“Or she may be telling the truth.”
Julian lowered his voice.
“You are upset. You should sit down.”
Eleanor’s gaze sharpened.
“Do not tell me what I should do.”
She extended her hand.
“Give me the watch.”
Julian hesitated.
“Now.”
He placed it in her palm.
For a moment, Eleanor did not move.
Her fingers traced the engraved bird. Her face lost its color, and her lips parted as if she had forgotten how to breathe.
“This was Rosalie’s,” she whispered.
Sir Henry looked away.
Eleanor pressed the small button on the side.
The watch opened.
Inside the lid was a miniature painting of a young woman with dark hair and bright, determined eyes.
Nora recognized her immediately.
Not because she had seen the portrait before.
Because the woman looked like her.
The same narrow chin.
The same curve of the eyebrows.
The same small mark beside the left eye.
Eleanor noticed Nora’s reaction.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“You recognized her.”
Nora swallowed.
“She looks like someone.”
“Who?”
“My mother.”
Silence filled the corridor.
Julian stared at her.
Sir Henry’s grip tightened around his cane.
Eleanor stepped closer.
“What was your mother’s name?”
“Lily Bennett.”
“Where was she born?”
“I don’t know. She never spoke about her childhood.”
“And your father?”
“I never knew him.”
Eleanor continued studying Nora’s face.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
Julian suddenly closed the watch.
“This proves nothing. Many people resemble one another.”
But Eleanor took it back from him.
She pressed her thumb against the engraved bird and twisted it slightly.
A section of the inner case moved.
Nora leaned closer.
Hidden beneath the painting was a tiny brass key.
Sir Henry’s eyes widened.
“I never knew that was there.”
“I did,” Eleanor said.
She lifted the key into the light.
“Rosalie showed it to me when she was seventeen. She said she had created a hiding place that no one else would ever find.”
Julian forced a smile.
“A key without a lock tells us nothing.”
“It opens her music cabinet.”
“That cabinet was removed years ago.”
“No,” Eleanor replied. “It is still in the north room.”
Sir Henry looked at her.
“The north wing has been sealed.”
“Then it is time we opened it.”
“No.”
His answer came too quickly.
Eleanor turned toward him.
For the first time, Nora saw fear in the old man’s face.
“Why not?” Eleanor asked.
“The rooms are unsafe.”
“They were inspected last year.”
“The floorboards—”
“Are perfectly sound.”
Julian stepped between them.
“This is becoming ridiculous. A servant finds a watch, invents a resemblance, and suddenly we are reopening rooms that have been closed for decades.”
Nora looked directly at him.
“I never said I was related to anyone.”
“You did not need to.”
Eleanor placed the key in Nora’s hand.
“You found the watch. You will come with me.”
The northern wing began beyond a pair of oak doors at the end of the second floor.
Mrs. Dalton brought the master key, but her hands shook so badly that Nora had to unlock the doors herself.
Cold air escaped from the darkness beyond.
The rooms smelled of old fabric, polished wood and years without human breath.
Dust sheets covered the furniture. Rosalie’s bedroom remained almost exactly as she had left it. A blue dress hung behind a folding screen. Books stood in uneven rows beside the window. A dried ribbon had been tied around the bedpost.
On the far side of the room stood a narrow rosewood cabinet.
Eleanor approached it slowly.
“She played the violin,” she said. “Badly at first. Then beautifully.”
Sir Henry remained near the doorway.
Julian stood beside him, watching Nora rather than the cabinet.
The brass key entered the lock perfectly.
Nora turned it.
Nothing happened.
She tried again.
A quiet click sounded inside the wood.
The front of the cabinet opened, revealing several empty shelves.
Julian exhaled.
“There is nothing here.”
Eleanor ran her fingers along the inside frame.
“Rosalie never trusted obvious hiding places.”
Nora noticed a small engraved bird near the bottom shelf—the same bird that appeared on the watch.
She pressed it.
A hidden panel sprang open.
Inside lay a velvet pouch, a silver music cylinder and half of a broken pendant.
Nora stopped breathing.
She reached beneath her collar and removed the necklace she had worn since childhood.
Her pendant was the missing half.
When the two pieces were placed together, they formed the same bird and circle of stars engraved upon the watch.
Eleanor covered her mouth.
Sir Henry sank into a chair.
Julian moved toward the cabinet.
“This has been arranged.”
Nora stepped between him and the objects.
“By whom?”
“By you.”
“I didn’t even know this room existed.”