The House of Beardsley

Chapter Thirty-four

In February, Clo finally came back and everything returned to normal. We also asked for Beth's birthday, so we could plan a surprise for her, but no matter what she wouldn't tell us when it was. It was uncharacteristic of her, but we didn't press on.

Rhiannon seemed troubled one particular day after dinner, and asked me and Clo to meet her outside. We went outside and cold air stung my cheeks and I could feel the mud from the melted snow squishing under my boots. 

We huddled close, teeth chattering, as February was even colder than December, and we got too used to staying indoors in January.

"What is it?" Clo asked. "Why can't we just talk inside?"

"Read this." Rhiannon simply tossed a newspaper, probably Holden's, to Clo and I. We both grabbed at it with our numbing fingertips, and huddled together to read it, teeth chattering. On the front page it read 'Lady Judith Clarke's Daughter Reported Missing: A Case of Kidnapping or Runaway?'.

I remembered the name being mentioned by the staff once, during the morning after the attack from the townspeople.

"I don't get it," Clo said. "Do you, Shuyan?"

"No." Clo turned to Rhiannon.

"What does this have to do with us?"

"Read the first sentence."

"Lady Elizabeth Clarke, daughter of Lady Judith Clarke, has been reported missing of last year, September sixth," Clo read out loud, pulling the newspaper to her face. "After sixth months of investigation, Scotland Yards reveals that it might not be a case of kidnapping as believed, but a case of Lady Elizabeth running away from home—"

"That's good enough." Rhiannon turned to face us sharply. "You know what this means, Clo. Stop lying to yourself."

I looked at Clo, whose features were suddenly stone hard and grave.

"Leave it, Rhiannon," she said, voice cold.

"I don't understand," I said, my eyes flickering between the two girls, who were having a staring match. I couldn't even feel the cold anymore—the ominous feeling was making me feel sick.

"Tell her," Rhiannon commanded.

Clo opened her lips—but for the first time, she closed it without talking back to Rhiannon.

"What is it?" I didn't want to hear it. I knew it wasn't going to be good. "Clo? What is it?"

"Let's have Beth tell us herself," she answered.

"Fine. Let's go in." Rhiannon opened the door for us, and we walked in, wiping our boots off at the mat. The lights were too bright, and I wanted desperately to go back outside. Then Rhiannon walked over to Beth.

"I want to talk to you," she said, "no, we all do. Let's go to the shoe-shining room."

"Huh?" Beth frowned, still unaware. "It's fine here, just talk here."

"You probably wouldn't want that, 'Elizabeth'."

At the sudden word, Beth's face changed color like it did that one day at the Christmas Ball.

I felt sick.

"I understand," she whispered, her voice so utterly drained of sound and life that it didn't even sound like hers. I was trembling, although I didn't know why, as I followed the two of them down the hallway with Clo. Once we reached the shoe-shining room, we went inside and then locked the door behind us.

Rhiannon turned to Beth and stared at her for a good few minutes, but Beth only looked at the floor, her big eyes suddenly like a porcelain doll's glass eyes. Dead.