Katie Rose (40 page)

“What happened?” Winifred asked.

“They convinced him I no longer cared for him. Even after he married, they destroyed him financially. They were always afraid that at some time, he would come back for me. They made sure that would never happen.”

Mildred spoke bitterly, her face twisting like rumpled paper. Penelope soothed her, giving her hand a squeeze, while Jennifer sent her a sympathetic look.

“He was very hurt,” Eve said, trying to soften Mildred’s pain. “I thought he’d never get over it. He didn’t
marry for many years, yet he seemed to be happy later when he did. I know his children were the greatest joy of his life, but he never forgot you.”

“That’s good to know,” Mildred whispered. “I didn’t discover this until quite recently, when I happened upon some old letters of my father’s. My only revenge was that I married a playboy, and that drove them nearly to distraction. Oh, I lived a grand life all right—summered in Europe, held parties nearly every week—but I never produced the heir they so desperately wanted. When they died, they left me so much money I became the reigning queen of New York, and I lived that role to the hilt. Soon after, my husband died. But I have never forgotten Samuel—which is why I was always so reluctant to come visit you girls every time Eve suggested it. I didn’t think I could look into your faces, see him, and stand it.”

Mildred looked directly at Jennifer, who suddenly understood the old woman’s reaction to her. Of all the sisters, she had always looked the most like their father, and Mildred, of course, had immediately seen the resemblance.

Penelope stifled a sob. “That’s so cruel,” she said, then glanced at her sisters in bewilderment. “But then if you had married him—”

“Then you girls wouldn’t be here.” Mildred smiled, all anguish disappearing from her wizened face. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve wasted a good forty years feeling sorry for myself. I have a lot to make up for, and I think I know just where to start. You young ladies have yourselves in a bit of a bind. I will help you with that, but you have to follow my lead. New York’s finest aren’t always forgiving, and it will take quite a bit of effort on everyone’s part to get you reinstated.”

“How on earth will you do that?” Penelope asked, barely able to contain her excitement.

Mildred smiled again, and it was a young girl’s face that looked back at them. “Society loves nothing more
than intrigue. When it becomes known that you girls really did conjure a ghost, you will not only be fashionable, you will be so in demand, you will never sit out another dance again. No one will dare call you frauds after this. I personally will see to it.”

Penelope clapped her hands, and Winifred laughed. Aunt Eve brought tea, and hugged her friend. Mildred had tears in her eyes. Only Jennifer looked concerned as she stared at the spot where her father’s ghost had stood. In all her years of performing the séance ritual, she’d never truly believed there was a door to the spirit world that could be opened.

And now that she’d done it, she was more than a little afraid.

Mildred was as good as her word, for she’d barely packed her trunks and returned home when the newspapers began to scream their success. Jennifer stood beside Penelope at the newsstand, stunned to see her name emblazoned on every headline. Her hands shaking, she barely tossed the newsboy a coin before snatching up the
Post
and reading the story.

“Jennifer Appleton Summons Ghost! New York Matriarch Calls Encounter ‘Incredible!’ ”

As Jennifer scanned the story, the newsboy stared at her, then pointed a grubby finger in her direction.

“That’s her! The ghost lady! She’s right here!”

Crowds at the market stand turned at his words. Jennifer glanced up and was besieged by people who, having seen the headlines, approached her with curiosity and awe. Women touched her skirts, begging her to make their beloved dead ones appear, while children asked for her autograph. Bewildered, Jennifer scribbled her name, while Penelope, also a sudden celebrity, was asked the same things. Men spoke to them reverently, removing their caps,
as if they were goddesses, while the grocer boy stopped with his hands full of apples and watched apprehensively. When it seemed that the girls were surrounded, he plunked down his fruit and pushed his way through the thickening crowd.

“Move aside! Let the girls pass! Come on, if you want to know all about it, buy a paper! Get out of the way!”

Penelope’s face softened in relief when she saw Lorenzo. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her and Jennifer, who blindly snatched her sister’s skirt, through the throng and into the relative safety of his stall. There, at least, they found some protection from the crowd, which had now grown frightening.

“Mother of God, these peoples! I cannot believe—Are you girls all right?”

“Fine!” Penelope said brightly. “Lorenzo, they think we are famous!”

“Thank you so much,” Jennifer said, glancing back at the crowd. They were snatching up papers and pointing in their direction. For the first time, Jennifer realized that a crowd could be trouble, and she shaded her eyes, looking for their carriage. “I think we’re parked across the street. I don’t know how we’ll get through …”

“Don’t you worry about that. There’s a back way through my shop. Come now, before they get out of control.”

Lorenzo’s warning was not without merit, for sure enough, the people came rushing back, wanting to talk to the bewitching sisters. A policeman appeared, and his nightstick waved in the air as he tried to disperse the crowd, but word spread quickly that the Appletons were in their midst and the fans refused to leave. Lorenzo bustled them through the rows of vegetables and out the back. Then they were able to dash to their vehicle unnoticed.

“Whew! That was close.” Penelope turned and smiled
in gratitude at the grocer as Jennifer climbed inside. “Thank you, Lorenzo. You saved us!”

He shook his head as if his efforts were of no concern. But when he raised his face and looked at Penelope his eyes were full of adoration. He waved to her, his heart on his sleeve as his face turned beet red. As the crowd began to realize they’d been duped, they rushed into the street, and Lorenzo, like a knight garbed in a green apron, shoved them back so the Appletons could make their escape.

“Thank heaven for your friend,” Jennifer remarked as the vehicle safely cleared the crowd. Her brow furrowed, and she said, “The reaction of the people worries me. It was one thing when we were merely notorious, but now they act as if we’re godlike. Did you see the look on some of their faces?” She shuddered, leaning back into the carriage so she wouldn’t be recognized.

“Hmm.” Penelope shrugged. “Maybe they just think we are special.”

“I wouldn’t put it past some of these people to think we can really conjure the devil himself. Lord, what this could lead to!”

Penelope nodded. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. We’ll be invited to everything. Jenny, think of the bright side … any party we grace will become an instant success! Why, if we can draw such a reaction in the market stalls, imagine what will happen at a soiree!”

“Well, we’ll soon find out. Mildred is sponsoring us at the Christmas Ball. Everyone of consequence will be there, or so she says. My heavens, will you look at that!”

Jennifer’s voice fell off as they approached Twin Gables. A crowd was gathering outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of a ghost or an Appleton. Jennifer saw Aunt Eve’s worried face at the window, then the maid appeared, flapping a dish towel at the crowd, trying to shoo them away. As the sisters alighted from the coach, the people
parted respectfully, but Jennifer could hear their murmurings as she walked up the path to the house.

“That’s the one! She’s the one who brings the ghosts!”

A reverent hush passed through the crowd as Jennifer approached. Fear began to grow inside her and she took Penelope’s hand and hurried toward the house. Even Penelope appeared concerned, for as Jennifer had noticed, people weren’t treating them simply as celebrities, but were speaking in hushed church tones as if the girls were more than mere mortals.

“Girls! I’m so glad you’re back!” Aunt Eve rushed them inside. “I’ve sent for the police. They started gathering this morning, and it’s getting worse. It seems as if everyone wants to see you!”

Jennifer glanced out the backdoor and saw a few people standing in the yard. Quickly she closed the curtain, relieved when she heard the officer outside, clearing the throng from their door. Penelope danced, sifting her hands through the dozens of invitations that graced the dining room table, then gasped in wonder at the flowers that had begun to arrive. A boy brought in holly and chrysanthemums, poinsettias and other Christmas flowers. Soon the hallway looked like a conservatory as word of the miracle spread quickly throughout the city.

“I’d say you girls got what you wanted,” Aunt Eve said, though her face was lined with worry. “There won’t be a soul in the city who doesn’t know you.”

“Perhaps it will die down when no more ghosts appear,” Winifred suggested. “You know how people are. Right now we are a cause célèbre, but that could change overnight.”

Jennifer nodded, but her own face reflected Eve’s anxiety. Everything seemed to be getting out of hand too quickly, and she didn’t have the slightest idea what to do about it.

The next few days wore on in much the same way. The
girls, overnight celebrities, were hounded by fans and the press. Even Penelope complained when they were fitted for their gowns, because the seamstress, her mouth full of pins, kept insisting that they try and contact her lost love. Penelope swore that they would, mostly to ensure that the woman didn’t deliberately sew their dresses too tight. They were besieged at the market, their parlor was filled daily with callers, and even their pastor sought them out to discuss life after death.

Mildred was delighted with their popularity, particularly when Winifred was invited to attend Vassar. Winifred insisted it was due to her grades, but her newfound status didn’t hurt, especially when the dean wrote and asked about the séance. The press asked what kind of shirtwaists they wore, and what kind of gloves they preferred. Overnight, they became fashionable, and young girls in the street began to copy Jennifer’s tasteful gowns, Penelope’s frothy dresses, and Winifred’s restrained elegance. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

Yet as Jennifer dressed in preparation for the ball, she felt an odd restlessness plaguing her. No one knew for certain how her father’s ghost came into being, nor what the repercussions might be. That frightened her more than anything, although Penelope and Winifred didn’t seem to care. Still, the worry ate at her, and she felt terribly vulnerable.

She couldn’t understand it, for things were certainly going exactly as they’d planned. The Appletons were at the height of their popularity, and after tonight’s ball, Mildred had assured them, they would reach a new pinnacle. But as she stared into the mirror, holding the velvet ball gown before her, Jennifer could no longer hide from the truth.

It wasn’t enough.

She was getting her every wish, seeing Penelope launched and Winifred’s ambitions fulfilled, but the emptiness
inside of her would not go away. A dawning realization came to her: The time she had been happiest was with Gabriel. The very feminine part of her longed to hold him in her arms once more, and experience that tremendously exciting magic he so easily wrought. Jennifer’s cheeks stained red as she thought of that night when they’d kidnapped him, and he’d artfully seduced her into the sweetest surrender. Biting her lip, she recalled her fears afterward, that she might have carried Gabriel’s child as a result of allowing him those liberties, but the thought no longer frightened her. Instead, it filled her with an odd longing.

Jennifer forced her thoughts aside. It was useless, utterly useless. Gabriel would never forgive her, and he would never understand. She resigned herself to her fate: Nothing could fill the void in her heart reserved for him—not fame, not fortune, not celebrity status. She missed him terribly, and the ache inside of her simply would not go away.

Jennifer stepped into the dress, waiting for their maid to finish with Penelope and assist her with the fastenings. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at her sister’s girlish chatter, and at Winifred’s dry comments. Both girls looked beautiful, and were so looking forward to the ball that evening that Jennifer refused to dampen their enthusiasm.

When she glanced back at the mirror again, she was startled to see another reflection staring back at her, that of a young girl. The girl had long, chestnut braids that looped back behind her ears in an old-fashioned style. Her dress looked old as well, almost colonial, Jennifer thought, and she wore a pinafore designed to keep her gown clean. Her face was small and pretty, her cheeks pale, but her eyes were luminous, sad and pleading. Jennifer was about to cry out when the young woman vanished as quickly as she appeared, and the mirror became glass once more.

“Winnie! Dear God, did you see that?” A cold chill went through Jennifer, and no amount of velvet could keep her warm.

“What is it?” Winifred came to her side and glanced at the mirror. Her puzzled expression clearly said she’d seen nothing, and for a minute, Jennifer couldn’t do anything other than point.

“There. In the looking glass! I saw it!”

“You saw what, dear?” Winifred obviously thought Jennifer had her laces tied too tightly, and began to tug on them.

Jennifer pulled away impatiently. “It was a ghost! A young girl! I saw her in the glass!”

Penelope glanced up, then shrugged and went back to ordering the maid around. Jennifer took a seat, her knees shaking, her legs like jelly. Winifred, seeing her sister’s expression, took one of her hands and tried to warm it between her own.

“Are you sure?” Her voice dropped, and instinctively, Jennifer knew why. The last thing they needed was the press to get hold of this.

“Yes. Winnie, you know I’m not fanciful. I saw her! I swear, I did nothing this time—no chant, no meditation … nothing! She just appeared as clearly as you!”

Tears started in Jennifer’s eyes. The fright had shocked her badly, and she continued to glance back at the mirror, as if half expecting another phantom to appear.