“Oh, Tamsin, dear, why did you not ring for tea, I did not know there were guests.” I stood up, dropping my handkerchiefs all over the floor. Leo knelt to pick them up before I could bend down. My Aunt went to ring the bell. She returned to see us stumbling over each other for the squares of fabric on the floor.
“Oh Tamsin, I hope they teach you not to be so scatterbrained!” she said, exasperated.
As Leo and I sat back down on the settee, I saw that he pricked himself with my needle, and I grabbed his hand. Without thinking, I held one of my white handkerchiefs over the wound.
“Dear me, at this rate you’ll be needing more of those before you even make it to Dover. Let me call for Torrence to come and bring a bandage.” My Aunt left the room again.
“I am such a mess, I’m so sorry,” I said to Leo, he shook his head as if to say, “Not to worry.” I did not know what to do so I picked up his hand and kissed where the wound was, thinking of how my mother comforted me in that way. He looked at me oddly for a second before my Aunt came back in with the butler. He took Leo out of the room and a moment later the maid appeared with the tea.
After Leo’s cut was fixed, we had an awkwardly quiet tea time before he left. Aunt Emmaline asked why I had not announced his arrival.
“It is improper for a young lady to be left alone with strange men.” I laughed at that.
“It was Leo Hilbourne! He is not a
strange man
,” I said in jest.
“Well, he is still a man, after all!” she shot back.
* * *
A month later, the morning had arrived that Celia, Julian and I would depart for Dover to cross the sea. My Aunt, Uncle, and Reginald Hilbourne saw us off. I asked after Leo, but Celia said that he had left the day before. I was disappointed and wondered why he did not come to say goodbye to me. There was a good chance I would not see him again until I returned from Germany and the thought saddened me.
My Aunt asked for a basket to be prepared for us with food for our lunch on the first day. Before we left, my Uncle handed me a small framed painting of my mother and father. I had never seen the painting before but it was obviously done by the same artist who painted the large portrait in the Long Hall at Rhineholt.
“It was in your mother’s wardrobe in the attic, I thought you might have it for your own,” Uncle Charles said, and I hugged him. It was the most sentimental gesture I had ever received. I was not aware that they kept my mother’s things. I hoped that on my return this wardrobe would be shown to me.
We set off for Dover, where we would wait for a boat which would take us across the English Channel to Calais, and then we would take a coach the rest of the way to Stuttgart, stopping overnight in various towns. We would spend a few days in Stuttgart before Celia took me to the nuns. As a whole, the journey would take over a week and a half; it was for this reason that I would have to spend holidays in Germany. Celia arranged with her brother’s family to have me stay with them for Christmas. They had a daughter who was near my age and who would also attend school at the convent. If possible, summers would be spent home or in London, but I was given an open invitation to stay in Stuttgart if necessary.
The journey was rather unpleasant, though I found it exciting to be on a boat. We were forced to wait several days for the weather to calm for us to cross the channel. I was lucky to not be taken ill on the crossing, many people were when the boat thrashed among the waves. Celia commented what good “sea legs” I had.
Julian spent little time with us during the days waiting for our boat, instead tending to business from India at the port. He told us that his stay in Germany would be brief and that he would part ways with us after only a night at the house in Stuttgart. He had to be off to India by the month’s end. He had become decidedly distant with me, and I did not understand why, though it was a somewhat welcomed change. I almost missed our banter.
The German countryside was beautiful, and I understood why there was such a rich mythical history associated with the people there. Celia admitted that had she been able to tear me away from Aunt Emmaline a week earlier, we might have visited Paris, but there was just not enough time and it might be dangerous just after the war.
“Perhaps when you leave the convent there will be time. You will have to have the latest fashions for your season in London and no one does that better than the French! Napoleon was good for something, after all,” she told me.
Stuttgart was a dark and beautiful place with the Black Forest floating by in the background. I found the architecture and woodwork of the little town’s buildings enchanting. The people were so kind when I spoke to them, although I was only just beginning to learn their language seriously, and was more well versed in French. Hilda taught me some German when I was younger, but my Aunt insisted that the emphasis be on what little French she could teach me. I was relieved that so many of the Germans I encountered were patient with me or at least knew a little French, and Celia and Julian were, of course, a huge help where the language barrier was concerned.
Celia’s family home was magnificent. Unlike Rhineholt’s dark, grey stone walls, it was big and white and seemed to shine beneath the sun. It had tall, elegant parapets and reddish brown, pointed caps on all of the towers. The house was set far back from Stuttgart with a pond that came right up to the Western walls. The reflection of the white towers on the water seemed to make it look even larger. I commented that it looked like a castle, and Julian corrected me.
“
Schloss
,” he said, smiling. I laughed at the way the word sounded as he said it.
“Yes, well, it is no
schloss
and it is nothing compared to what
Hohenzollern
was before it fell to despair,” Celia said.
Julian responded, “Ah yes, sadly it has been reduced to just a chapel, now. Tamsin, you will see a painting of what the
Hohenzollern
once looked like in the family hall of
Hintergrundig
, which is the proper name for Celia’s family home. We call it
Anbetung, now
, which means--”
“Adoration!” I interjected. I was excited any time I knew a word since I still had so much of the German language to learn.
Celia explained that
Hintergrundig
did not always belong to her family. The house was built for a great noble family many years ago and their line eventually came to an end when both of the sons of the house were killed at war. The house was sold to Celia’s Great, Great Grandfather who bought the house for his beloved wife, Gretel, thus the change of name to
Anbetung
. I found the history of the place fascinating, and Julian was impressed that I was taking such an interest in old houses and castles.
“It’s a shame you did not stay with us at Hilbourne Abbey. It is also remarkably old with a rather dramatic history, more so than even your Rhineholt,” he said. I had only ever seen Hilbourne from far away. It was said to be much older than my family home and the house seemed imperious from afar. Rhineholt was certainly smaller and it may have had the same, large grey stone look of a fortress, but it was not nearly as overbearing looking as Hilbourne.
Celia’s mother was seated in the drawing room awaiting our arrival. She was a tiny, skeletal old woman with white hair and sparkling, pale blue eyes. Her hands were full of knots, and she reminded me of a mangled old tree. The woman was unnervingly quiet when she spoke, with almost a whisper of a voice. When she saw me she called me by my mother’s name.
“Annaliese.”
“That’s right, Mother, Annaliese’s
daughter
Tamsin,” Celia told her, but the old woman shook her head and pointed at me saying the name again.
“Annaliese.”
Celia’s mother was obviously senile, and I wondered if she really thought that I was my mother. She reached a hand out and Celia kissed her cheek and Julian did the same. I could see that they were both taken aback by her state. It was several years since they last visited
Anbetung
. The old woman beckoned me to sit beside her and I did so, even though I felt odd in her presence. She took my hands in hers and spoke to me with a thick German accent, but much louder than I expected and in English.
“I know that you are Tamsin, but your mother is there, too. Two souls, one body. You are she.
Zwei Seelen, ein Körper
.
A chill went down my spine, and I must’ve looked stricken because Celia jumped in.
“She’s a fanciful old woman. In this part of Germany, the myth often mixes with the history. The people of this country are very superstitious.” The old woman shook her head and waved her hand as if she were dismissing the conversation all together, but I was still chilled by what she said to me.
Two souls, one body...
After tea I was shown to my room which was right next to Celia’s. She informed me that her brother and his wife were tending to business in Hamburg, but they would return to
Anbetung
before I left for the convent and that I would meet their children, as well. As she pulled back the curtains in my room she told me that this was the room my mother stayed in when she was there. Despite the feeling of welcome, I also felt a little strange to be sleeping in the same bed that my mother slept in so many years ago. Celia must have noticed that I was feeling a little uneasy at that prospect because she placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Not to worry, dear, you will find that the nights here are restful and as quiet as the English countryside.”
When she left me, I changed my clothes and washed my face with water from a basin across the room. The windows had a bench seat right in front of them, so I leaned over it to look out. I was quite high up, and as I looked down at the top of a tree, the height made me dizzy. I felt my stomach flutter, but I sat and looked at the surroundings of where I would be spending the next few days. This place certainly was awe-inspiring but there was a strange presence in this room.
Two souls, one body
, I thought, and little bumps appeared on my arms and the back of my neck.
It was not the thought that my mother’s soul remained with me all of this time. A part of me always felt that way, why else would I have dreamt of her so clearly and so often. If anything, I found that presence comforting. This feeling was different and it made me wonder if I was being warned. Was she trying to tell me something? I laughed out loud at myself and thought how silly I was.
These are the ramblings of the little girl I left behind in London. Time to put that little girl to rest
, I thought.
Chapter 6
That night I hardly slept. I thought about what Celia’s mother said to me on our arrival. The worries of starting school and meeting the other girls who I’d be spending the next few years with made me horribly nervous, too. My mind was going round and round in circles when I heard the sound of a creaking floor board just outside in the hall. I sat straight up and the covers flew forward. Had I locked my door?
A faint flickering light shone beneath my door. My chest heaved and my thoughts went back to the night I heard the voices in the hallway back home. Hilda was not here to lock me safely in. A clicking sound and my door slowly opened. I pulled the covers up to my chin. The mangled hands of Celia’s mother held a candle straight out in front of her. She crept slowly toward me as though she was floating and I inched back until my shoulders were against one of the four posters of the bed. The carvings in the wood dug into my spine.
“Celia!” I called out, “Celia? Julian?” I didn’t care which of them came as long as someone did.
Her hair was wild and her face twisted into a mindless expression as she held the candle straight out.
“
Zwei Seelen, ein Körper”
she said softly
.
“Celia, please! Julian!” I was pleading now for one of them to come to my aid.
“
Zwei Seelen, ein Körper,”
she said again, her voice a whisper that seemed to echo as she spoke. Her eyes went white, and she let go of the candle which fell onto the bed. I was immediately surrounded by the flames and I heard the weathered voice again chanting over and over.
“Tamsin!” Celia was calling my name. Everything went black.
I opened my eyes to see Celia staring down at me with her hands on my shoulders.
“It was a nightmare. You were calling out for me as though someone held a knife to your throat!” She held me against her like a small child.
“Whatever was going on in that mind of yours?” My cheeks were wet with tears, and I was too embarrassed to tell her that her mother tried to burn me alive, so I told her that I dreamed I was thrown over the cliff with the Perseus. As she rocked me back and forth I saw a shadow on the floor. Julian stood in the doorway.
“She’s had a fright. Will you go downstairs and get her a glass of warm milk to help calm her?” Celia asked. He didn’t answer, he just rushed out to be of service.
“I’m so sorry I woke you, both of you--” I started and she shushed me like a baby. The dream was still fresh in my mind, and it was a long time before I was calmed. When she finally let me go, Julian came back into the room with three glasses of warm milk on a tray.
“Well, I figured we might all need some assistance getting back to sleep.” With that he sat down in a chair across the room.
“I’m sure your Aunt would be appalled that you’ve seen me in my night clothes,” he laughed.
It got a smile out of me and I said, “Not as appalled as she would be knowing you’ve seen me in mine.”