The House of Beardsley

Chapter Forty-six

"It's quite a silly question, but do you perhaps go by a different name? Something like Shuyan?"

At the name, I froze up.

"I don't understand, why are you asking?"

"There's a young lady asking for you."

A young lady?

"I don't," I said. "There's a mistake."

"Shuyan! I know you're in there, come out!"

At the familiar voice, I gasped. Mistress Gibson crossed her arms at my reaction. "I think you ought to greet your guests properly, Susanne."

I stood there for a moment before nodding. She held the door open, and I walked outside.

"There you are!"

At the sight of Beth, I lost my breath.

She was dressed in a brown coat with checkered with red, and she had, indeed, grown to my height. More surprisingly she had grown out her hair. She kept her fringe, but the rest was waved and tied back with a white ribbon, some strands falling to frame the side of her face.

"Shuyan? Say something?"

"I—I'm sorry," I said, suddenly aware of my presence, "Miss Elizabeth Beardsley."

"What did you call me?" Beth folded her arms, in an arm a wrapped package. "I didn't come all the way from Ravensborough to Elmsville just to hear you talk to me like I'm a stranger!"

She walked to me, and I saw her face up close. She had grown even more beautiful in those years: her cheeks were still full, but her cheekbones more prominent, her lips pink, and her figure molded beautifully by corsets.

"I can't believe you found me," I stuttered, every word difficult to come out. "How—?"

"It was thanks to this."

Beth produced the strangely wrapped package from her side. She handed it to me.

"What is it?"

"It's yours, Shuyan." At my bewildered laugh, she laughed a sad, mature laugh that wasn't like her.

"Open it," she said gently, "and you'll see."

With a finger, I gingerly unwrapped the paper that covered it. With each layer I unpeeled, I began to smile, all the while crying.

It was a bonnet.

A very familiar cream bonnet, although now it had yellowed, and the lace was frayed at the edges, but the dairies still had their pearly white color and didn't look a day old.

Yes, they hadn't wilted at all.

"You kept it."

I looked at Beth, and then she looked away from me and sniffed.

"Of course. I treasured it more than anything."

She had indeed matured.

"Clo and Rhiannon treasured their gifts, too, but it was only recently when I realized how important my gift was." She turned to face me again. "I heard of a popular place where young ladies got their ball gowns made. The stitching was familiar, and there was detailed embroidery of flowers and birds as well as flowers made out of cloth, so I knew it had to be you."

Beth laughed, wiping her moist eyes. "It took us five years. Imagine that! I'm nineteen now, nearly twenty! And Mister Kupka is ancient! He's retired, but he comes to visit every so often."

"How else are the others?" I dared to ask.

Especially him.

"Oh, there's so many to tell!" Beth's voice softened as she held my hands, which were still holding on to the bonnet. "Silas and Phillip thankfully left, but Tobias did too. Rudy stayed, though. He's head butler now, but truth is, he doesn't have much of a commandeering presence and Mister Kupka rules from behind the scenes anyway. And Otis—he passed away."