“This green really does bring out your eyes,” she mused. “You are a true beauty, Eliza. Never underestimate yourself.”
An unbearable thickness filled Eliza’s throat. Part of her wanted to thank her mother for saying something so very kind, while another part of her wanted to shout that her entire life was not going to be built around her beauty—that she hoped to be known for something more. But neither sentiment left her tongue, and silence reigned in the warm, pink room.
“May. The book,” her mother said suddenly, snapping her fingers.
Startled, May slipped a book from the hall table where it had been hidden from view, and took a step into the room to hand it to her mother.
“This is for you, Eliza,” her mother said, holding the book out. “A going-away gift.”
Silently, Eliza accepted the gorgeous sandalwood leather book with both hands, relishing the weight of it. She opened the cover, her eyes falling on the thick parchment pages. They were blank. She looked up at her mother questioningly.
“Today is the beginning of a whole new life, Eliza,” her mother said. “You’re going to want to remember every moment . . . and I hope you’ll remember home when you write in it as well.”
Eliza hugged the book to her chest. “Thank you, Mother,” she said.
“Now remember, May is one of Billings’s most revered graduates,” she said, her tone clipped once again. “You have a lot to live up to, Elizabeth. Don’t disappoint me.”
Then she leaned in and gave Eliza a brief, dry kiss on the forehead.
Eliza rolled her blue eyes as her mother shuffled back down the hall. Then she bent to pluck her book from the trash, but froze when something caught her eye: May still hovering in the hallway.
“May?” Eliza said. Usually her sister trailed her mother like the tail of a comet.
May looked furtively down the hall after their mother, then took a step toward Eliza’s open door. There was something about her manner that set the tiny hairs on Eliza’s neck on end.
“May, what is it?” Eliza asked, her pulse beginning to race.
“I just wanted to tell you . . . about Billings . . . about Crenshaw House,” May whispered, leaning into the doorjamb. “Eliza . . . there
’s something you need to know.”
“What?” Eliza asked, breathless. “What is it?”
“May Williams! I’m waiting!” their mother called from the foot of the stairs.
May started backward. “Oh, I must go.”
Eliza grabbed her sister’s wrist.
“May, please. I’m your sister. If there’s something you need to tell me—”
May covered Eliza’s hand with her own and looked up into her eyes. “Just promise me you’ll be careful,” she said earnestly, her blue eyes shining. “Promise me, Eliza, that you’ll be safe.”
Eliza blinked. “Of course, May. Of course I’ll be safe. What could possibly harm me at a place like Billings?”
The sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs stopped them both. Renee rushed into view, holding her skirts up, her eyes wide with terror. The sort of terror only Rebecca Williams could inspire in her servants.
“May! Your mother is fit to burst,” she said through her teeth. “Mind your manners and get downstairs now.”
A tortured noise sounded from the back of May’s throat. Then she quickly gave Eliza a kiss on the cheek, squeezing her hands tightly. “I love you, Eliza. Always remember that. No matter what happens.”
Then she released Eliza and was gone.