Note:  This story takes place right after the first story in this new, modern-day universe.  This refers back to that story, but there are no spoilers.

August 1985

Fire
To begin whipping dance of the dead
Blackened is the end
To begin whipping dance of the dead
Color our world blackened

“I’m rather glad I wasn’t very optimistic about Diana’s invitation to go to Milwaukee,” Honey said to Trixie the next morning while they were exercising Susie and Lady.  “I found out this morning that Jim and I have to be in London in November.  Great-Grandmother Madeleine died last night, and the London family has made arrangements for the reading of the will to be during that very week that Diana invited us to Milwaukee.  It’s the earliest that all family members can be in London.”

“I’m sorry to hear about it, Honey,” Trixie said, reaching over and laying her hand on Honey’s shoulder.  “I know you weren’t all that close to her, but it’s still tough when a family member dies.”

Honey nodded.  “I’ve never met her, actually.  Mother and Daddy visited her the last time we flew to London, but since then, all I ever received from her was the occasional letter.  Mother says, though, that she was very cool about things, and life, and while Grandmother Madeleine didn’t like Daddy, Great-Grandmother did, and it was she who stifled Grandmother’s complaints about him and allowed Mother to marry him.”

Trixie chuckled and shook her head.  “I’m sure glad I won’t have that kind of trouble with Moms and Dad once I’m old enough to get married.”

“Well,” Honey said, picking up a leaf from Lady’s black mane.  “I guess it’s different when you’re royalty.”

“Honey, is it possible that you would ever hold any kind of royal office or anything?” Trixie asked.  “I mean, are you someday going to move to England and become Lady Madeleine or Madeleine, Duchess of Somewhere?”

“Sadly, I don’t really know,” she replied.  “Great-Grandmother Madeleine gave up her position as Duchess of Kent ages ago when she had a stroke.  However, the title then went to Grandmother, so I really might find myself in London one of these days doing whatever royal subjects do.”

Trixie saddened.  “I guess I had never thought of that.  It would be cool to be over there, I guess.  I mean, if it were me, I would think so, but then I’d have a hard time giving up the life I lead right now.”

“Well, don’t worry about it, Trix.  The title still has to go through Mother to get to me,” she smiled over at her best friend.  “Mother said that those roles are more for appearances these days than anything else.  They don’t really do much other than organize or attend fundraisers.  It’s not like it would mean one-hundred percent devotion, or anything.  And, becoming Duchess of Kent didn’t mean that my Grandmother had to move to England.  She still lives in Rochester.  Besides,” she said, smiling even wider.  “If I ever do become a duchess of anything in Britain, you’ll still be my best friend.  That’ll never change, Trix.”

Trixie grinned.  “Oh, I knew that,” she said, hiding her embarrassment.  Secretly, she wasn’t very sure of things if Honey ever took on this new role.  It would change her life forever.  It might even change Honey’s life as far as detective work.  Royalty isn’t known for detective work.  They usually call in Scotland Yard or something.  But, that would be almost fifty years from now, or so.

Friday, November 4, 1985

“Twelve more days until we leave for London,” Honey said drearily during lunch period.  “I so wish everyone could come.  I just know I’m going to be bored to tears with all these things that either don’t concern me, or won’t matter to me until I’m sixty years old.”

“I wish we could go, too,” Diana said.  “I didn’t get to go last time.”

“Hey, you’re going to Wisconsin,” Trixie interjected.  “That leaves me home with Mart, Dan, and Bobby.  So, I don’t want to hear about it.”

Diana grinned and threw her arm around her friend.  “Don’t give me any of that.  Every time I head off to Milwaukee to visit family, I always come home and hear all about the latest mystery you all got involved in.  So, I’m sure you’ll all be knee deep in some adventure, so you won’t even notice that I’m gone.”

“I hope not,” Mart said.  “I’m not sure us men can keep the fair Beatrix from a mystery or two.  You just watch.  She’ll find one.”

“The first mystery I’ll have to solve is finding out what happened to the duct tape that Dad was complaining about last night, and tape your mouth shut, dear twin brother!” Trixie said, with a shake of her head to make her blond curls tumble down over her eyes.  She hated being called Beatrix, but she was always able to trump his ace by calling him her twin.

“Speaking of mysteries,” Diana interrupted the banter,  “do you all know what day it is today?”

Mart looked at her curiously.  “It’s called a calendar.  Use it.”

“No, silly.  I’m fully aware of the date,” Diana said, playfully scowling at him.  “I mean, does anyone know what today is?”

“Oh!  Um, I know this.  Don’t tell me…” Trixie said, grabbing a hold of her curls.  “Shoot.  The Orlandos disappeared because of today, right?”

Diana nodded.

“Trixie, think hard,” Honey said, grinning.  “What does Buenos dias mean in English?”

“Good morning.”

“Or…”

“Good day.”

“Right.  Now what was Morty’s name in ‘Undercover Blues’?”

Trixie threw her head back and laughed.  “‘My name is Muerte.  It means DEATH.’  I can’t believe I forgot all about Dios del Muerte.”

“I’m sure Señora Denton will mention it in Spanish today,” Honey said.

Honey met the two girls outside by the Bob-White Outback after school that day.  She looked as if she were close to tears, as if the dam holding the tears back were ready to break any minute.

“Mother called the school,” she explained.  “Daddy’s coming home from D.C. tonight, and they want to leave first thing tomorrow morning.  I was seriously hoping we could work on our parents some so that at least I could stay home, or one of you could come with me.  She has already talked to Jim, and he said that he won’t be able to come, so I’ll be alone.”

Trixie’s first impulse was to be sympathetic towards her best friend, but then she remembered Honey’s distant cousins from London who helped them catch the thieves who tried to steal Honey’s inheritance.

“What about Anne and Gregory?  Why don’t you look them up while you’re there?  Maybe you can do something together?”

“Why so glum?” Dan asked, coming up from behind Trixie and Diana.  “You’re acting as if nothing could be worse than the fact that in a matter of days, each of the Bob-Whites are going to be separated from each other.  Afraid we’re not going to be able to function?”

Trixie shrugged.  “It’s just that we’ve never really been apart this much.”

Mart rolled his eyes.  “Realizations of adulthood maturity might find us, perhaps when we are most unsuspecting, Trixie.”

Dan reached out and smacked his friend on the shoulder.  “That didn’t even make sense,” he said, hoping that Mart’s response didn’t hurt either Trixie’s or Honey’s feelings.

“Mart, how can you clown around at a time like this?  Honey’s leaving for London tomorrow,” Trixie cried.  “Not this weekend like was planned.”

“Sorry,” he said apologetically.  “I was just being silly.”


Monday, November 7, 1985

Honey should have been in bed long ago, but she hadn’t completely gotten over her jet lag.  She had taken a nap earlier and now was awake at five in the morning, when everyone else was sound asleep.  She thought about calling Trixie, but everyone back in Sleepyside would already be in bed by now.  She had really no idea why she needed to be there at all, actually.  She wasn’t inheriting anything other than being one generation closer to some day carrying the title “Madeleine, Duchess of Kent.”  She didn’t even understand it herself, though, why all the other titles were either bestowed by the Queen, or carried down through either males, or the eldest daughter.  All titles, that is, except for this one.  It never used to be this way, but ever since the first Madeleine Hart nearly two hundred years ago, Dukedom for Kent went to the women; not the men.  Grinning, she decided to find out while she was in London.

She considered it an honor that her family was staying at Buckingham Palace, but so far, neither Queen Elizabeth or Prince Charles had made any appearances, nor had she even been able to lay eyes on Princes William or Harry.  All she had seen were servants, butlers, and other service people dressed in 1700s style costumes and wigs.

The room reserved for her sleeping quarters was several square feet larger than her own bedroom back home.  The window looked out at the front gardens.  The royal red throw rug against the wooden floor was a perfect accent for the creamy-white walls.  Her bed was a king-sized, extra tall canopy bed with mahogany posts.  A large vanity with a red, velvet cushioned seat sat at the head of the room, while the bed, old high-boys, dressers, and a large mahogany closet and other large pieces of furniture lined the back of the room.  The entire room was an assortment of rich colors from the royal blue bedspread to the red velvet curtains.

A knock on her door brought her out of her reverie.

“I noticed your light was on.  Finding everything satisfactory, Miss Madeleine?” Miss Topper, the maid, said, when Honey opened the door.

“Yes, I am,” Honey said, smiling.  “Thank you.”

“Most delightful.  Sweet dreams, then.”

“Miss Topper?” she said, before closing the door.

“Yes, Miss?”

Honey crooked her finger, signaling to the maid to enter the room.  “Are you free to chat for a while?”

The maid chuckled.  “Miss, I was just about ready to head to the kitchen.  Do you need something?”

“Do you know the history behind Madeleine?  The First?”

The maid blanched.  “I’ve heard stories, Miss Wheeler, and you will, too.  But I must warn you, do not believe everything you hear or read.  It is best for you to pay it no mind and go to bed.”

Honey nodded, feeling discouraged.  “Okay.  I was kind of hoping I could find out a little history, that’s all.”

The maid put her hand on the doorknob.  “Remember, the last of your relatives arrive tomorrow morning.  Breakfast is at ten sharp.  Good night.”

That certainly added to some of the reasons why she had never heard all the history behind the Madeleines and the rest of the Harts.  What is the story behind this Madeleine?  Why did Miss Topper warn me about stories?  Why did she turn pale when I mentioned it?  Why is it such a mystery?  Honey couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face.  Pretty soon, she was lying on her bed, holding her sides as they ached from trying not to laugh too loud.  You hang around Trixie, and you’re bound to catch mystery-itis before too long.


Tuesday, November 8, 1985

Honey was up before everyone that morning.  The fact that Miss Topper wouldn’t talk about the Hart family history intrigued her.  After getting dressed, she slipped down the hallway toward the enormous library in her wing of the palace, hoping that she could find some interesting information about the Hart family.  She found a guard at the entrance, dressed like an eighteenth century butler.

“Good morning,” she greeted him, to which he stiffly nodded, acknowledging her presence.  “I’ve come to find a book to read while I wait for breakfast.”  He nodded again, stepping aside and letting her in the room.  Whew!  That was easy!  I hope finding the information will be just as easy.

After closing the large French doors, she wandered through the library.  She was well aware that any real private records would not be kept here, but she hoped that at least a small amount of information could be found.  The walls were at least twenty feet high, and were lined, solid, with books.  Sitting proudly on pedestals were busts of all the different kings and queens who had ruled England.  Gazing up at the endless volumes of books, Honey wandered through the labyrinth of shelves.  Wondering where to start, she rounded the corner and let out a gasp at whom she saw.

“Ben!” she cried and ran to her cousin, who sat at a large, cherry wood table.  “When did you arrive?”

“Several days ago,” he said, getting up and giving her a hug.  “I’ve been confined to my room, the game rooms, and all the libraries in this wing.  Grandma Madeleine insisted that it would be proper for children to stay out of these affairs.”

Honey rolled her eyes.  “Mother told me about what Grandmother said, too.  My only comeback to that was ‘then why should I go in the first place.’  I tell you, Ben, I’m having the most boring time here.”  She took a seat next to him.  “Since I’ve come here, I’ve been hoping to find out some things about the Hart family, but no one seems willing to talk about it.”

Ben Riker knitted his eyebrows.  “I’ve found that, too.  No one seems to want to discuss any kind of history in this family.  I mean, the royal family thrives on that stuff.”

“That’s why I’m here.  I was hoping to find out something.  Miss Topper turned an interesting shade of pale when I mentioned the first Madeleine Hart.  Something’s fishy, and I’d like to find out what it is.”

Ben chuckled.  “Well, you are one half of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency.”

“You’ve got that right,” Honey said, grinning.  “Now that I’m here, I just don’t really know where to begin.”

Ben looked around.  He spotted a small pad of paper and an elegant little glass cup with pencils in it.  “Here,” he said, getting up and helping himself to a few sheets of paper and a pencil.  “Write down some main topics of information you would like to find.  There’s bound to be some kind of directory around here to point us in the right direction.”

Honey nodded and began writing.

Who is Madeleine I?  When did she become Duchess of Kent?  Who was duchess before her?  When did she die?  How?  What was special about her position as duchess?  Who was King or Queen during her time?


When breakfast was over, Honey and Ben went back to the library to continue their search.  There were no computers in the library, and the card catalogue proved to be of no use to them.

“Wait,” Ben said, looking up on one of the walls.  “I have an idea.  Do you have any idea when she held her office?”

“I think some time in the early eighteen-hundreds.  I could be wrong.”

“Let’s start there,” Ben said, heading over to a large, framed diagram on the wall.  His eyes skimmed over the family names:  Lancaster, York, Tudor, and Stuart, until he got to Hanover.  “I would say it’s a good bet that George IV was King at the time our Madeleine was Duchess of Kent.  Let’s start with him.  If not, then we can always go to either George III or William IV.”

“So where do we find information about George IV?”

Ben grinned.  “Honey, he was a king.  Chances are, we shouldn’t have any problem finding information about him in the catalogue.”

After several long hours of researching King George and several other books about his reign as Prince Regent and King, and finding no mention at all of the Duchess of Kent, they finally gave up for a while.

“I’m wondering if she even existed,” Honey said, losing hope.

Ben closed the book.  “Oh, she exists all right.  If she didn’t, then you would only be the fifth Madeleine in this family.”

Both sat in silence as they thought.  Coming to their first dead end was discouraging, and even though Honey tried to get past it, she found she couldn’t.  Suddenly, she thought of something.

“I can’t believe we’ve been this dumb!” she cried.  “What have we been looking up?”

“Is this a trick question?”

Honey put her hands on her hips.  “We’ve been looking up ‘Madeleine Hart’.  If you think about it, books about a King’s life would not really go into elaborate detail about people like Lords and Ladies, Dukes and Duchesses, and all that.  I mean, now-a-days they would because most of them hit the news and tabloids.  Back then, they didn’t.  The only ones to receive any kind of mention are the ones who served as head of the British Military, or were advisors to the King or Queen.”

“So what do we need to look up?”

“We need to find the history on all the Duchesses of Kent!  It’s got to be recorded somewhere,” she said, standing up.

Ben shrugged and stood up.  “It’s worth a try.”

Sure enough, they found a few books on the history of the territory of Kent.  The first thing Honey did was skim the Index for Hart, Madeleine.  With an audible gasp, she excitedly pointed to a series of identical names in the Index:  Hart, Madeleine I; Hart, Madeleine II; Hart, Madeleine III; Hart, Madeleine IV.  Hastily, she flipped to the pages the book referenced to.

“Right here,” Honey cried and read aloud.

Madeleine Grace Hart was born on February 23, 1787.  Her father, William Hart, Duke of Kent was a second cousin to King George III.  At the time of William’s death, he had no other siblings and no other sons had been born to them, leaving his inheritance to his only child.  Recognized as Duchess of Kent by King George III, Madeleine took her new position as an honored subject under the King’s reign.  At the age of thirty, Madeleine took on responsibilities as she became a person of notoriety and was constantly in the public eye.  Madeleine did not marry until the age of thirty-four and in 1825 gave birth to her only daughter, whom she aptly named Madeleine Grace.  On May 15th, 1830, her execution was ordered by King George IV of England shortly before his own death.

“That’s all it says,” Honey said, reading the last sentence again.  “She was executed.  I wonder what for?”

Ben shrugged.  “A lot of people were executed those days for all kinds of things.  I remember reading about King George IV in history class up at Berkshire in Syracuse.  He even ordered his own wife’s execution so he could get around the divorce issue.”

Honey wrinkled her forehead.  “How terrible!  Why couldn’t he just divorce her?  Wouldn’t that have been easier?”

Ben shrugged again.  “Look at it like this, Honey.  You know all the crap Charles and Diana got because Charles wanted a divorce and Diana didn’t?  Finally, Queen Elizabeth wrote a letter requesting that the couple divorce to save face in the royal family.  But, the public still had plenty to say about it.  Divorce is something that many people take lightly today, but for people who live in the limelight, it is something that they have to sometimes go without.  Many kings and queens lived their own separate lives, but remained married, more or less because they were married to create a pact between countries, but divorce was still frowned on by the Church.  The last thing the King and Queen wanted was to be scorned by the Church.  But, today, it’s more about public grace than anything else.”

“So you’re saying that King George probably wanted to divorce his wife, but couldn’t, so he had her killed instead?”

Ben nodded.  “It’s what happed in those days.  You can be thankful you’re living in better, more civilized times.”

“But that can’t be why no one talks about her.  I mean, Queen Mary was executed by her own sister, yet we still talk about her.”  Honey shook her head and looked down at the passage in the book.  “Not even a picture to go with the identity.  There are pictures of everyone else, except Madeleine, the first.”

Wednesday, November 9, 2005

Honey awoke on the leather sofa in the enormous library.  The bright sunlight coming through the windows told her that it was, indeed, the next morning.  Lying open on the floor was a book she had been reading the night before.  After rubbing her eyes and looking around, she noticed Ben sitting at the table, his nose in a book.

“Have you been to bed yet?” Honey asked.

Ben looked up and smiled.  “Well, look who’s up.  Yes, I spent last night in my comfy bed, while you, I expect, spent the night on that couch.”

“I guess I just couldn’t put that book down,” she said, getting up.  “I was reading about King George and what he was like.”

Ben grinned, knowingly.  “Not a nice person, huh.”

“According to several historians, he was the type of guy that could care less what happened to England, as long as he had women and parties.  When it came to political issues, money, and things that were important to the people, he seemed kind of…” Honey paused, searching for the correct word.  “Thick.”

Ben laughed.  “You could say that, Honey.  Anyway, after we talked about executions, and how some kings, like George, weren’t able to divorce their wives, so they had them executed, it became morbidly interesting, so I thought I’d look up reasons why these women were put to death, and figured I might come across Madeleine’s name.”

“I doubt it,” Honey said.  “So far, all we’ve found was just a little blurb about her.  Miss Topper won’t talk about it, and even grew rather nervous when I brought it up the last time.  Either she’s really afraid of talking about a dead person, or someone doesn’t want her to talk about it.”

Ben howled with laughter.  “Trixie, you can come out of that disguise.  The jig is up.  I know it’s you.”

Honey giggled and shrugged.  “What can I say?  We’re partners.  We were bound to start thinking the same sooner or later.”

“Well, I think you might have something there,” he said, putting the book down.  “Have you tried to question any of the other servants?”

“No.  Miss Topper is the only one I’ve really talked to since arriving here at the Palace.”

“Well, Honey, we have until the end of the week to find something out about her.”


“I just asked the guard outside this library,” Honey said to her cousin that afternoon.  “There are no other libraries open to us except for this one.  I assume this means that there are other libraries, but private ones for people like the Queen or important people.”

Ben shrugged.  “I suppose if this is all we find, then so be it.  We just weren’t meant to find anything more.”

Honey looked up at the wall in front of her.  “No.  I just have this feeling.  There is information here, and we just don’t know it…yet.”  As she said this, her eyes landed on a portrait of King George IV.  “Why did you execute her, George?  What did she do to deserve to be put to death?”

Ben watched as Honey strolled over and looked up to the portrait of the king and continued to talk to it, as if she fully expected the man to reply.

“Did she refuse to agree with you?  Was she traitorous to the throne?  Was it a bad case of indigestion?”  She narrowed her eyes.  “Or did she just really piss you off?”

In a moment of silence, Ben suddenly felt very eerie.  Neither the painting nor Honey budged from their spots.  Something in the pit of his stomach told him that Honey had struck a nerve, and if King George had been in this room when she said it, he would have likely ordered Honey’s execution, too.


Honey sat next to her mother in the enormous dining room, surrounded by a few hundred of her relatives.  Out of the several relatives at dinner, the only ones Honey had been acquainted with were her grandmother, her Aunt Mary, her Uncle Cameron, Ben, and her mother and father.  Other than that, all the others were perfect strangers.

The fine, delicate china and intricate patterns etched into the crystal, complete with expensive linen cloths and polished silver brought back memories of what life used to be like before Trixie Belden ever came into her life.

If Grandmother remains Duchess of Kent, my presence in England might be requested on a regular basis.  Mother and Daddy might have to attend functions over here.  If I have to move to England, would that jeopardize my friendships?  Trixie and I certainly couldn’t open our detective agency, could we?  No, we couldn’t possibly run a detective agency across the Atlantic.

The last thought brought tears to her hazel eyes.  The thought of her royal blood getting in the way of friendship made her sick to her stomach, and she found she couldn’t bear to think of it.  Her food went cold as she refused to touch one tiny morsel of it.

No!  I’ll give up my position if it means leaving the Bob-Whites behind.  Trixie is my best friend.  I simply couldn’t live without her.  Another thought came to mind that made the tears come flowing down her cheeks.  And Brian!  If I’m in England all the time, there’s no way we could ever…ever…  She couldn’t finish the thought.

No one seemed to notice her tears, for they were all mingling among themselves.  Quietly, Honey excused herself from the table and hurried to the grand doorway and down the hall.  As she hurried, the tears began to flow freely down her cheeks.  Lifting up her long, flowing formal gown, she hurried up the staircase to the next floor, where her bedroom was.

“Honey!” a familiar voice called out.

Halfway up the grand staircase, she turned to see who had called out for her, letting her skirts go slack in her hands.  Through her tears, she could see her blond cousin, Ben hurrying after her.

“Leave me alone, Ben,” she wailed, taking another step, tripping on her gown and falling face first on the steps.  As she scrambled to regain her footing, she began to slide farther down.

Ben hurried to catch his cousin.  “Now, Honey,” he said, stopping her slide and taking a seat next to her on the staircase.  “That was certainly no exit for you, Honey.  Trixie, maybe.  But definitely not the future Duchess of Kent.”

His words only made Honey cry all over again.  “Oh, knock it off, Ben,” she said, getting herself together and taking a seat next to him.  “I really hate the whole idea.  If Grandmother is made duchess, that means that Mother and I will be wanted in England all the time.”

Ben put his arm around her slim shoulders.  “So,” he said, handing her his blue silk handkerchief.  “What’s wrong with that?  It’s all just part of the job.”

“That’s the problem.  I don’t want to be over here all the time.  I don’t want to leave New York and my friends.”

Ben took a deep breath.  “Come on, Honey.  Don’t worry so much.  You probably won’t be needed over here very much.  Well, not at least until much later.  Besides, remember what I said earlier?  Royalty is all just figureheads.  They are present for dedications, ceremonies, and other kinds of fluff.  There’s really nothing to worry about.”

Honey wiped a tear from her eye.  “Easy for you to say.  You don’t have this weight on your shoulders.  You’re going to school in Paris next year, so you really don’t care.  It’s me who wants to stay in the West.  Maybe all the other Harts in this family were all cut out for royal offices, but not this girl.  Not me.”

Ben grinned and shook his head.  “Honey, dukes and duchesses these days don’t do anything, really.  Look at Fergie.  She’s a spokeswoman for Weight Watchers.  I think that’s all she really does, you know.”

“Yeah, and she’s also been the center of attention for the tabloids.  I don’t care to be in that spot, Ben.  People like Diana Lynch like the spotlight, but not me.”

“Okay.  You got me there.”  Ben stood up.  “C’mon, Honey.  I’ll walk you to your room.  You don’t have to be present at the reading, do you?”

“Technically, yes.  But officially, I don’t really have to.”

He held his hand out to help up his cousin.  “In that case, what do you say we spend the rest of the evening in the library?  We have until Friday before you go home.”

Honey stood and gathered up her skirts again.  “Truthfully, I’m ready to give up on this.  I’m really beginning to wonder if it was really that big of a deal at all.  She was just executed.  Like you said, a lot of people were put to death for various reasons in those days.”

Ben stopped in the middle of the hallway.  “Honey, don’t pull that on me.  Earlier, you looked ready to thrash that painting of King George just because you wanted to know what Madeleine did to make him so upset that he wanted her executed.”

“He probably wanted her dead because, aside from Caroline of Brunswick, she was probably the only other eligible woman for him to marry, and she was probably a toothless old crone.”

Ben snickered.  “I doubt it, Honey.  Judging from the way Grandma Hart looked when she was young, Aunt Maddy, and you, I’d say she was probably a very attractive woman.  Remember, you are a direct descendent of hers.”

“Hmph!” Honey said, leading the way to her room.  Before she entered, she turned to face her cousin.  “Somehow, I know the information is in that library, or at least, somewhere in this palace, but I don’t think we’re going to find it.  From the way Miss Topper reacted and the fact that we haven’t been able to find anything, I think that is pretty much our answer.  Maybe it was destroyed.”

“Maybe so,” Ben said.  “I doubt it, though.”

Honey’s hazel eyes met her cousin’s blue ones.  He’s right and I know it.  There really is more to this than what we’ve read, and it would be an incredible waste if I went home not knowing more than I do already.  “Go ahead to the library.  I want to change out of this ridiculous gown.”

Honey opened her bedroom door and wandered inside.  Wasting no time, she hurried to the dresser and took off her jewelry.  Deciding that she liked her hair pinned up the way it was, she left that alone.  It took the stylist hours to do it.  I’d better leave it.  Unclasping her necklace, she looked up into her mirror.

The unfamiliar face looking back at her wasn’t what made the blood-curdling scream come out of Honey’s mouth.  It was the fact that it was unfamiliar, yet it was nearly identical to her own mother’s face.

Ben wasn’t too far down the hallway when he heard Honey’s scream echoing down the halls.  Millard, the guard at the end of the hall, looked up in surprise at first, but gave Ben a scowl.

“What is that cousin of yours screaming at now?” he asked Ben, condescendingly.

“Like I should know,” Ben scowled, hurrying towards Honey’s room.

Millard went back to his business with a rather annoyed expression on his face. 

“Honey!” Ben cried through the door.  “Are you all right?”  After a moment of no answer, Ben pounded on the door.  “Honey!  Open up!”

“Sir, perhaps the lady prefers not to see you?” Millard said, forsaking his guard post at the end of the hall.

Ben pounded on the door again.  “Honey, open up right this minute!”

“Perhaps I should open the door, sir, and see what the fuss is about?”

“Back off, Jeeves,” Ben seethed.  “She’s my cousin.”  He twisted the knob on the door, but nothing happened.  The door was locked.

“Sir, I have a key to the room,” Millard said, pulling a large ring of keys from his pocket.  “Or would you prefer to cause a ruckus and disturb others?”

Ben backed away slightly and put his hands on his hips.  “Just unlock the damn door!” he seethed under his breath.

When Millard let him inside the room, they found Honey sitting in front of her vanity, all the color drained from her face, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

“Honey?” Ben said soothingly, kneeling down next to her.

She slowly turned to face him.  Her face, pale and expressionless, had little beads of sweat rolling from her forehead down to her cheeks and her hazel eyes, usually wide with merriment or concern, showed no emotion at all.

“Millard, please bring Aunt Madeleine,” Ben said, turning from Honey to face the guard for a few seconds.  “I think Honey is sick.”

“Sir,” the guard said, bowing slightly and heading out the door.

He held a hand up to her cheek.  “Honey,” he whispered.  “You look as if you’d seen a ghost.”

Suddenly, Honey’s expressionless eyes grew moist and tears began spilling down her cheeks.  She grew limp and fell towards her cousin, trusting him to catch her.

Ben suddenly turned pale.  “Honey!” he cried, catching her quickly, before she hit the floor.  Trusting in his strength, he lifted his cousin to her bed and carefully laid her down.

Just then, Matthew and Madeleine came rushing into the room followed by Ben’s parents, Cameron and Mary Riker.

“What happened?” Mary quickly asked her son.

All at once, Matthew faced his nephew, suspicion in his eyes.  “Is this another one of your pranks?” he asked.  “Did you scare Honey?”

“What?  No,” Ben said, defending himself.  “Honey and I were just going to go to the library, that’s all.  She was going to change and then meet me there.  I heard her scream and came running.  That’s all.”

“And why should I believe you?” Matthew said, walking towards the young teenage boy.  He stopped when his wife laid a slender, well-manicured hand on his husky arm.

“Matthew!” Mary scolded her brother-in-law.  “You have no proof!  Ben said he didn’t.”

Cameron faced his son.  He knew his son to be a prankster, and even had to pay for some of his trouble in the past.  “Tell me the truth, Ben.  Did you do this to Honey?”

“Dad!  I used to put salt in the sugar dish.  I used to put frogs in girl’s school bags.  Those was old school pranks, and done ages ago.”  He gestured towards his cousin.  “Honey saw something that scared the living daylights out of her, and let me tell you this,” he said, facing the rest of his family.  “When I told Honey she looked as if she’d seen a ghost, she turned to liquid.  If I didn’t know better, I would say it’s safe to assume that she had seen one.”

Matthew folded his arms.  “Ben, there are no such things as ghosts.  You can stop this nonsense right now and come forward and admit you pulled a prank on Honey.”

“Fine.  Ask Honey what she saw.”

“I saw her…” Honey whimpered.

“Saw who?” Madeleine asked gently, sitting down beside her daughter.

Honey looked up into her mother’s face and gasped.  She raised her hand up to lightly touch her mother’s cheek.  “She looked exactly like you…” Honey whispered.

“Who did?”

Suddenly, Ben’s mouth dropped.  “Madeleine,” he said.

“Yes?” Honey’s mother answered, turning to face her nephew.

“No.  Madeleine Hart,” he said, looking at Honey for reassurance.  “The First.”

Honey nodded.  “I think so.”

“Just suppose you kids tell us what is going on?” Cameron said, his hands on his hips.

Ben looked down at his cousin, who was still pale with fright.  “We were just looking up information on the Madeleines in this family, and maybe all this talk about executions and everything spooked Honey.”

Still shaking with fright, Honey looked up into his eyes.  “Nothing spooked me, Ben.  I saw her.  She looked directly at me.  In the mirror.”

Ben narrowed his eyes at her, silently telling her to avoid telling her parents any more.  “We found a small bit of information on Madeleine, Duchess of Kent.  From there, we learned that she was executed by King George’s orders.  I guess we just got a little excited.”

Madeleine looked down at her daughter.  “Honey, dear.  Are you going to be all right?”

Honey glared at her cousin, but nodded her head.  “I guess I just saw my own reflection and…” she lowered her eyes, “…and got carried away.  Like Ben said, we just got a little excited.”

“Well, no more of this,” Madeleine said, a stern look gracing her delicate features.  “You need to be present for the will reading tomorrow night, Honey.  Mother told me that part of the will concerns you.”

Honey nodded.  “Let me get some rest,” she requested.

Matthew nodded his red head.  “No more scares,” he said, gently kissing his daughter on her forehead.

Honey waited until her mother, father, aunt and uncle were out of the room before she sat up.  “Benjamin Riker, what do you mean by telling them I’m making things up?” she cried.  “Because I’m not!”

“Honey,” Ben said, making room for himself on the edge of her bed.  “I’m sorry about that, but somehow, I’m not sure your parents really should hear about how our several-times great-grandmother Madeleine just paid you a visit.”

“Surely you believe me, don’t you?”

Ben grinned.  “I do believe you.  And don’t call me Shirley.”

Honey swatted her cousin on the arm.  She was starting to feel a little better.  “Do you really believe me?  I mean, I hardly believed it myself until it finally occurred to me that I was definitely not looking at myself, that someone else was staring back at me.”

“Honey, tell me everything that happened.”

“First, I sat down at my vanity to take my dinner jewelry off.  While un-doing my necklace, I looked up into my reflection.  Not sure why I did.  I just happened to.  Anyway, at first, I saw myself.  And within a split second, that person who was looking back at me…” Honey scooted back to lean against the large, mahogany headboard, and drew her knees up.  “It was like I transformed into someone else.  She looked as if she was Mother’s age, possibly in her middle forties.  I didn’t know what to do or what to say, Ben.  I just screamed.  That’s all I really remember.”

Ben nodded.  “I wasn’t too far down the hall when I heard your scream.  It was pretty loud.”

Honey laughed nervously.  “Well, I was pretty scared.  You’d be too, if you saw some stranger looking back at you.”

“Do you remember anything about her?” Ben asked, turning to face her.  “I mean, did she smile or something?”

Honey’s brow furrowed.  “You know, now that you mention it, she didn’t smile at all.  It was more like an urgent look than anything else.  Her eyes looked kind of like they were pleading with me over something.  She was really quite beautiful, Ben, despite the fact that she scared the liver out of me.”

Without a word, Ben headed over to the vanity to inspect it.  He studied the back of the mirror for a few minutes and even stooped to the floor to study the bottom part of the vanity.

“What are you doing?” Honey asked, craning her neck to see what he was up to.

“Call it a scorching case of mystery-itis, Honey,” Ben said, moving the vanity slightly out from the wall.  “But, I kind of had a sneaky suspicion that maybe someone was playing a trick on you.  I was checking for video equipment, wiring, or just anything that might prove that this was a prank.”

“Ben,” Honey sighed.  “You don’t have to prove that this wasn’t you,” she said, getting up and heading over to the vanity.  “I know you’re capable of some pranks, but nothing like this.”

He laughed lightly and continued to feel behind the vanity for wires.  “As far as I can tell, this is clean of anything suspicious.  Honey,” he said, looking into her eyes, “you know what it could be?  Past life experience intruding on present time.  I think what you saw was a real live spook.”

Her skin turned pale once again.  “I think I should go lay back down again.  We can do some more research tonight.”

“All right,” Ben said.  “I’ll be in the library.”  He left, shutting the door behind himself.

The room grew stiflingly quiet, giving Honey the feeling that someone was still there, yet hiding.  It was as if they were afraid to breathe for fear that Honey would be able to find them.  Not budging from her place on the bed, Honey kept a vigil for anything supernatural that could happen again, such as a reappearance of her ancestor, Madeleine.  Several minutes went by without a sound.  Not even the clock on the other side of the room, with its pendulum rocking back and forth, seemed to tick.  Even after her scare, she felt exhausted.  Her eyes grew heavy and before she knew it, her honey-colored head was resting on the dark blue silk pillowcase; her eyelids firmly planted shut.

It was nearly an hour later when Honey stirred awake.  Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she tried to focus her vision to the large clock on the other side of the room.  Realizing she was still in her dinner gown, she quickly stood up off the bed to change.  Before her fingers reached the zipper in the back, she stopped.  She felt light – weightless.  It was as if she were suspended in mid-air, yet her feet were firmly planted on the ground.  Suddenly, she became aware of something strange; a feeling crept up on her as if she were yet again, not alone in this room.

It played out in front of her like a silent film.  The same woman, donned in a white gown, sat at the vanity combing her hair.  Two guardsmen stood behind her.  Scooping her hair off her neck and pinning it up, the woman gave herself one last look in the mirror.  Honey saw the same urgent look in her face that she saw before.

Too terrified to say or do anything, Honey stood and watched as the figure slipped a diamond necklace off her neck and carefully laid it inside a polished, wooden box.  Quickly, she wrote a short note and left it sit.  Her thin lips moved with every word she spoke to the guards, but only silence was heard.  The woman stood and let the guards lead her out the door, but not without throwing Honey a warning glance first.

Glued to the floor, Honey’s feet refused to move to follow the woman and guards.  As soon as the door shut, Honey’s weight returned to her full force as she came crashing down on the floor.  Hurriedly, she scrambled to her feet and raced to the vanity, where she had sat not two hours before.  There was no box, no note – only her pearl necklace and where it lay when Honey took it off earlier.

Surged with an unfamiliar feeling of bravery, Honey stopped only long enough to put her slippers on to follow the ghostly woman and her guards.  The second she was out her door, she saw the backside of the same woman in white, a guard at each side, round the corner down the corridor.  Quickly, Honey gathered up her skirts and ran down the hall.  As she rounded the corner past Millard, who was unaware of what Honey was seeing, she saw the woman head for the grand staircase.

Honey did not stop to ponder the fact that she was chasing a ghost.  She didn’t even think of the figure as a ghost.  In her mind, she was following directions or orders.  It was as if new thoughts had been put there, telling her where to go and to not be afraid; for Honey was not scared at all.  She felt quite comfortable with this, as if the woman she were following were someone she had known her whole life.

Standing at the end of the hall, Honey saw the ghostly three stop at the entrance of the library where she and Ben had been spending their evenings doing research.  From twenty feet away, Honey stood and watched as her ancient great-grandmother turned once again to give her the same warning look from before.  From each side, each guard took an arm and led the woman through the door and into the darkness.

Trying not to slide on the old, silk threaded runner, Honey whisked down the hall and stopped short at the doorway.  She couldn’t turn the doorknob.

What’s going on?  I have to follow her!

Every muscle in her body froze.  Every bone turned to ice.  The bravery she demonstrated earlier had vanished into thin air.  The light feeling from before seemed to fall away from her and suddenly she became very afraid of what she was doing.  She was no longer comfortable.  As if her body were suddenly going into shock, she began to quiver, and, without warning, her body went into convulsions and fell to the floor.

“Honey,” said a familiar voice.  “Wake up!”

Dazed and confused, Honey blinked her eyes open.  Tanned hands had a hold of her shoulders and were shaking them.  A few strands of her honey colored hair fell from her once very neat hair-do down in front of her face, blurring her vision slightly.

“What happened?” she groaned, allowing the hands to pull her up to a sitting position, her back against the wall.  She tilted her head and gazed upward to look into her cousin’s concerned blue eyes.  “Ben?  What am I doing here?”

“You tell me,” he said, pulling his silken handkerchief from his suit pocket and dabbing her sweaty face, not caring if her sweat beads stained the burgundy colored cloth.  “I was just coming out of the library and saw you in a crumpled heap.”

Her body began to tremble again.  “I don’t understand!” she cried, feeling panicky.  “I woke up in bed and that’s the last I remember!”  Her voice began to grow faint as she began to breathe hard.  Her skin was cold, her palms clammy.  Tears began to form in her wide, hazel eyes as Ben pushed the loose strands of hair behind her ears.  “I’m scared, Ben!”

“Shhh.  It’s all right,” he said, soothing her nerves the best he could.  What the hell do I know about getting her to calm down?  “Try to slow your breathing down,” he urged.  “You’re hyperventilating.”

Honey closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing.  She felt her cousin take a seat next to her on the floor.  I wish Brian were here.  I wish Brian were here.  I wish Brian were here.  As she thought of him, her breathing grew calm and less labored.  A few minutes later, her breathing was back to normal again.

“Can you stand up?”

“I’m not sure I can,” she said, wiping a tear away with a shaking hand.  “I’ll try.”  Feeling weak, she tried to get to her feet with the aid of her cousin.

“Here, Honey,” Ben said, holding her steady, “lean up against the wall until you’re ready to stand.”

“Good idea,” she said, holding her head.  “Everything’s spinning.”  A few minutes later, she was able to gain her bearings again and attempted to stand on her own.  “I still don’t know how I got down here.”

“Maybe you were sleep walking?” he suggested.

Honey glanced at him.  “I’ve sleepwalked before, Ben.  I don’t normally wake up in shock.  The last time I felt like this was…” new tears sprung from her eyes as she realized that it was, in fact, the truth.  “It was the last time I fainted at Briar Hall.”  She continued to hold her head with both hands.

Ben sighed.  He remembered his mother fretting over her niece, wondering if she would ever be all right.  Now he wasn’t sure if she ever would.  Maybe it would have been better to leave her home, where she wanted to be in the first place.

“Come on, Honey,” he said, grabbing her hand.  “Can you stand up?”

She nodded, strands of her light brown hair falling down in front of her face.  Allowing her cousin to help her to her feet, he led her into the library where she took a seat on the large, leather sofa to rest a bit.

“What time is it?” she asked, her eyes darting around to find a clock.

He looked at his wristwatch.  “About nine-thirty,” he said.  “Stay here while I get you some water.”

She nodded and slumped forward to rest her head in one hand.  Stifling a yawn, she allowed her eyes to wander around the library until they rested on the large portrait of George IV.  There was something suddenly disturbing about that portrait, something she hadn’t noticed before.

The painting itself hadn’t changed or been moved.  In fact, the figure depicted suddenly became more lifelike to her.  Steadying herself on her feet, she made her way to the painting, supporting herself on different pieces of furniture.

His eyes were dark.  They weren’t menacing, or terrifying, but dark.  They spoke of selfishness and power, and lacked reason.

“Honey, you really should be sitting down,” Ben said, standing in the doorway, holding a glass of water and a washcloth.

“I’m fine, Ben,” she sighed, turning away from the painting, but accepting the water and cloth anyway.

He looked up at the painting.  “What are you thinking about?”

“What he was thinking,” she replied.  “I’m wondering just exactly what did happen between my grandmother and him.”

“I saw Miss Topper in the hallway, Honey.  She was heading for your room to tell you about the family meeting tonight, but I told her you were sleeping and that I’d give you the message.” he said.  “There’s a family meeting tonight at ten, so you should freshen up and get ready.”

Honey lifted her right shoulder in a half-energetic shrug.  “Not that I really care to go.  They aren’t going to include me on anything, you know.”

“Still, everyone expects you there.  You’re a future heir to the dukedom.”

“Oh, I suppose…” She took a sip of water and ran the washcloth over her face, which was beginning to regain its color.  “I’ll have to put on some new makeup,” she giggled.  “I must look pretty dreadful.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a slight movement.  Turning to see what it was, she spotted the ghostly figure of her ancient grandmother once again, accompanied by the two dark, faceless guards.  She laid an ice cold hand on Ben’s arm, making him jump a little, but when he saw what she was looking at, all the color in his face drained as well.

The woman stared at the two cousins.  Her complexion matched that of Honey’s mother, her hair a light honey-brown.  Honey’s wide hazel eyes met the other woman’s as they held each other’s gaze for a long moment.

Ben began to shake, as his breathing grew rapid.  Not understanding the exchange between Honey and this spirit, he grew frightened.  Honey’s cold hand had sent immediate shivers through his body, but after seeing the full apparition of the woman Honey had seen earlier, his fright turned to terror as he watched the woman’s gaze shift from her granddaughter’s to his.

Her eyes were kind, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to cry out.  If it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t find his breath, he would have screamed for all he was worth.

“It’s okay, Ben,” Honey said, her voice taking on a new presence of calm.

Her tone made him jump again.  He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.  He couldn’t find his voice to even say his own cousin’s name.

Taking him by the hand, Honey lightly tugged.  “Everything’s okay,” she said, looking up into his terror-stricken blue eyes.  “She won’t hurt us.”

His mouth gaped open as he still tried to talk.  “How do you know?” he finally whispered.

“Because she led me down here,” she said, smiling.  “I figured it all out.  She has a message for me.”

Ben jumped again.  “I thought you said you didn’t know how you got here!”

“I remembered,” she said, a smile pulling at her lips.  “I’m not afraid, Ben.  You shouldn’t be, either.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the ancient spirit and her two guards vanished.  Ben was still visibly shaking, not ready to accept the fact that his great-grandmother of over two hundred years ago just looked into his eyes.

“What do you think she was trying to tell us?” he barely whispered.

Honey didn’t take her eyes off the spot where her ancestor stood.  “I’m not sure, but it has something to do with this library.  I have this feeling, though, that this won’t be the last time we see her.”


The family meeting only lasted an hour, but as far as Honey was concerned, it felt like it lasted several.  She had hoped that someone might have said something concerning this mystery behind the Hart name, and what was so secretive about Madeleine, Duchess of Kent.  However, no one acted mysterious, and no one even brought any of it up.  All that was talked about was memorial arrangements for her recently deceased great-grandmother.

Honey didn’t speak of the spirit who had appeared to her twice already, nor did she let on that she had even seen anything supernatural.  Ben sat on one side of his mother, while his father sat on the other.  Neither of the cousins dared to look at each other.  Aunt Mary and Uncle Cameron were already suspicious of the episode earlier, as were Honey’s own parents.  The fact that Honey claimed to see a ghost would go no further than those two immediate families.  Grandmother Madeleine, who was the beneficiary and heir to the dukedom, would never find out.

It was midnight when Honey finally returned to her room.  She thought hard about what she has already found out, and what might lie in uncovered history.  There was the fact that Madeleine was executed.  Whether it was wrongful or not, Honey didn’t know.  What she did know, however, was that this woman from the turn of the nineteenth century was trying to tell her something—something that would possibly mean to change the way the Harts live now and forever.

That was Honey’s last thought before she fell into a deep sleep.  As nervous as she had been earlier about being visited by past spirits, Honey felt relaxed and gave in to her exhausted feelings.

“Whatever it is you have to tell me, Madeleine, it can wait until tomorrow,” she said aloud.  She didn’t know whether or not it had any effect, but the next second she was deep in sleep.

Thursday, November 10, 1985

“Honey, are you sure this is okay?” Trixie asked, happy to finally hear from her friend, but concerned that this phone call might cost too much money.  It was a natural feeling for her, since her parents would never approve of costly international phone calls, but felt silly thinking about it since Honey’s family could more than afford it.

Honey giggled.  “Of course it’s all right.  Mother and Daddy already know and in fact even encouraged it.  They said that since I don’t have access to a computer for emails, that they had no problem with me calling you.”

“No computer?  Just where are you staying?”

Honey paused.  She didn’t really want to tell her best friend that they were guests of the Queen in her home, and yet didn’t even have access to the Internet.  After thinking about it for a few seconds, she came out and said it.  “Buckingham Palace.”

Trixie let out a loud laugh.  “I’m real sure, Honey,” she said, cracking up.  “You can’t tell me that Buckingham Palace doesn’t have the Internet!”

“I don’t doubt that it does,” Honey said.  “But what I’m saying is that I don’t have access to it.  Don’t think I haven’t asked, because Ben and I both have.”

“Ben?  Ben’s there?”

“Of course he is,” Honey said, almost wondering for a second why Trixie would even be questioning it.  “He’s Mother’s sister’s son, therefore, a Hart.”

“Of course,” she said, feeling stupid.  “I forgot that he would even be there.  Anyway, what’s going on?”

“The will reading is tonight right after the memorial service,” Honey answered.

Trixie paused.  It was as if she had forgotten that Honey had even gone to England because of a death.  The truth was, that unbeknownst to Honey, Trixie was caught up in something of her own, and hadn’t given much thought to any activities the Hart family members were currently involved with.

“Are you going?” Trixie asked.

“I’m supposed to, but I really don’t want to.  Anyway, I called because I just need to talk to someone other than my cousin.”

Trixie grinned.  “Did you just wanna talk or did you have something on your mind?”

“Well, I called because I really needed to talk to someone…” she said, her sentence trailing off.  “You’ve been through things very similar to what I’m going through right now.”

Trixie wasn’t sure if she should say anything, since she really didn’t understand what her friend was talking about.  She had never been through anything like this.  The only person of any note she knew she was related to was one of the original settlers who came over on the Mayflower.  Honey was related to King George I.

“I’m in the middle of a mystery,” Honey explained.  “And, it’s a doozy.”

Trixie smiled.  “This is the proof I need!  It’s not just me who attracts mysteries!”

Honey giggled.  “But, I’m your partner, so by the laws of magnetism, I am supposed to attract them, too.”

“Huh?”

“You know, when you rub a magnet onto something else, it leaves a magnetic charge in it long enough for it to attract another metal object.  Never mind.  Anyway, here is my dilemma.  Are you ready for this?”

“Sure.”

“Are you sitting down?”

There was a pause.  “I am now.”

“Good.”  Honey made herself comfortable on the leather sofa.  “Ben and I decided that the only way to amuse ourselves here would be to look up history on our ancestry.  In short, we decided to find out as much as we could about Madeleine Hart, my great-great-great-great grandmother.”

“What did you find?”

“That’s just it.  We found nothing.  Only one book in this library has her name, and it just gives a brief history, sort of like those abbreviated bios you see online about actors and singers.  Birth dates, death dates—that stuff.”

“So?”

“Well, it said that she was executed by King George’s orders.”

“And?”

Honey could tell her friend was getting impatient.  “Well, people around here won’t talk about the past, so we decided that this was definitely worth spending our time on.  After finding out she had been executed, we decided it would be a good idea to try to figure out why.  I know a lot of people were executed in those days, some of them for frivolous reasons.  So, the more we researched, the deeper we went.  Trixie, you’re never going to believe what happened.”

“What?” Trixie nearly cried into the phone out of excitement.

“After the big family dinner last night, I went back to my room to undress and—Trixie, are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Honey!!!  You’re killing me!  Just tell me what!”

Honey giggled.  “You’re so much fun, Trix.”

“If you don’t tell me, I’m going to grow wings, fly over there, and make you tell me.”

“Madeleine paid me a visit.”

“Who?  Your grandmother?”

“In a sense.  Madeleine, the one who was executed in 1830 upon King George’s orders.”

She heard a gasp from the other end of the line.  “Honey!  A real live ghost?”

“Yep!  She’s made other appearances since.  She showed up three times last night.”

“Gaaa!  And I wasn’t there?”

Honey laughed.  “I’m sorry, Trix.  Maybe the next time I see her, I should ask her to show up again when you’re along.”

“Wait a minute,” Trixie said, sobering up from her initial shock.  “Why aren’t you scared?  Why are you looking forward to another visit?”

“Trixie, I really was scared.  I still get jittery when I think about it.  But, when she’s present, I feel really calm, and I have my wits about me.  Also, new thoughts pop in my head, as if she’s putting them there.  Ben nearly wet himself when he saw her though,” she said, grinning.

“I don’t blame him,” Trixie said, grinning as well.  “I nearly did the same when I saw Sarah Sligo that night, even if it was only a trick done with mirrors and smoke.  Speaking of that, you should check to see if someone isn’t just messing with you.  You know how much of a prankster Ben is.”

“Was, Trixie.  You should see him.  He’s grown up a lot since we last saw him.”  Honey tucked her leg underneath her and leaned back, running her fingers through her hair.  “What I need from you is some research.  There is no computer in the library here, and all other rooms are off limits to both Ben and myself.  ‘No children allowed’ and that sort of thing.”

“Name it, Honey.”

“I need you to find out as much information as you can about Madeleine Hart, Duchess of Kent.  Her husband was William Hart.  They lived during King George IV’s reign.”

“Anything specific?”

“I want to know why she was executed.  So far, neither one of us have found anything, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“You don’t suppose that Madeleine’s spirit will pay me a visit and just spill the beans, do you?”

Honey laughed.  “I’m picturing her handcuffed and tied to a chair with a bright light shining in her eyes, and you firing questions at her.”

“This is just too much,” Trixie said, hastily scribbling down all the facts that Honey had just told her about her ancestor.  “How will I get back to you?”

“You’ll have to call me.  Reverse the charges and Mother and Daddy will pick it up.”  She gave Trixie the phone number and after a few more moments of chatter, they hung up.  It felt so good to hear Trixie’s voice again.  She hoped that she could find something quick.  Trixie only had a few more hours before she had to go to bed, whereas Honey had the whole day.  An hour later, Honey received a phone call from the United States.

“Here is what I found out,” Trixie said.  “First of all, I logged onto the official British Monarchy information site, and found practically nothing.  The only information there was your great-grandmother’s death date.  So, I did a search for your ancestor on a search engine and found a site that lists generations of the entire royal family.  The last four generations were the only ones listed.”

Honey’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.  “Well, it was worth a shot.”

“That’s not all I did, though.  I looked at it like this, Honey.  You are a direct ancestor of George I, so there really has to be something out there.  So, I did more searching.  I was able to find a few free downloadable encyclopedia programs, and did searches on those.  I found nothing.  Then, I called the Sleepyside Public Library to see if they had any books or anything that could give me information.  They had one book on the history of English Dukedom.  I got Moms to drive me down there so I could quickly check it out.  While I was there, I decided to check out a book about George IV.  You want to know what I found?”

“What?”  The books Trixie described were no doubt the same ones they had wracked their brains over before.

“Shortly before his own death on June 26th, 1830, he made a rather odd transaction.”

Honey knitted her eyebrows.  “An odd transaction?  What do you mean?”

“He acquired land that wasn’t worth much of anything to the crown.  It’s what’s called a rotten borough.  It is a very, very small piece of property that used to have quite a large population, but had dwindled in size.  It would be as if White Plains went from a population of fifty-thousand to twelve people.”

“How does this affect the king?” Honey asked.  “I mean, what does he care what is done with the property?”

“He cares if there is an election at hand in the Parliament, or if he wants to make someone a lord, someone who will support him.  Most of the time, someone from one of these small communities became a lord after he acquired the land.”

“I doubt that,” she said.  “Why would he make a nobody a lord?”

“In the interest of money, maybe?”

Honey bit her lip.  “You’ve got a point.  Go on.”

“Anyway, when this land went to him, there was only one resident.”

“And so this person became a lord?  Did you find out his name?”

“Actually, no.  No one became a lord, lady, or anything.  It was just one person, and some empty land with an empty house on it.  Not even any animals.”

Again, Honey’s shoulders slumped.  “Well, it might mean absolutely nothing, Trix, but you never know.  Thanks for looking it up for me.”


After lunch, Honey and Ben resumed their research.  With her newfound information, they were able to look for specific things, but still didn’t make any headway.

Honey looked at her watch and leaned back in her chair.  It was getting on towards three in the afternoon, and they really hadn’t gotten very far with their research.  Looking up, she found herself looking directly into the eyes of King George IV once again.  He carried himself fairly aloof, looking off into the distance, as if he didn’t care to acknowledge anyone in his presence.

“This is frustrating,” Honey said, leaning forward and supporting her head on her hand.  “It’s as if she never existed, as if she’s just a figment of someone’s imagination.  A character in a story written by someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

Ben released a breath.  “I know the feeling.  Although, if I hadn’t just seen our own four-times-great-grandmother last night, I would have given up by now.”

She nodded.  “I know, but it just seems like we’re not meant to find anything.  It’s…” She looked down at the dark grain in the cherry wood table.  “It’s just frustrating.”

Ben smiled.  “I’m getting hungry.  Want to come with me to find the kitchen and see if we can sneak a sandwich or two?”

“No, you go ahead.  I’m not hungry.”

“There has to be something I’m not seeing,” Honey said, aloud to herself once her cousin had left.  “Man, I wish Trixie was here.  She’d be able to put her finger on it in no time.  I might not hurl myself right into the headlights of danger, but I am smart about mysteries.  There has got to be some kind of secret,” she said, standing up and leaning against the table.  “A Hart family secret.”  She remembered what she thought earlier when she talked with Miss Topper.  “That’s it!  Someone doesn’t want this secret to get out!  All I have to do is find out who and get them to tell me.  After all, I’m a future heir to the dukedom of Kent.”  She straightened and glanced up at the portrait of King George.  “Something tells me that doesn’t make any difference, right, George?”

She drew in a deep breath and exhaled.  “I mean, I can understand not liking your own cousin.  We all know how much Ben was a pain in the ass.  There were plenty of times I’ve wanted to strangle him.  Like the time he switched the salt for the sugar, and I dumped it all over my oatmeal.”  She turned her back to the painting and continued her thinking out loud.  “Miss Lefferts didn’t believe me when I told her that Ben had done it, and she made me eat the whole thing.  But, as much as much of a pain he was, I still love him.”

Across the room, she spied a bust of William Shakespeare.  “Hey, Bill,” she said, flipping her golden-colored hair over her shoulder.  “How’s it hanging?  Written any tragedies lately?  Here’s one for you.  Young woman is executed by orders of the King.  Perhaps she knows something incriminating?  Possibly a drug habit, making him unfit to rule as sovereign.  Maybe he held a grudge against her for getting married to another man.  I mean, Caroline of Brunswick was anything but lady-like.  So, he orders her execution because if he can’t have her, no one will.”

Gently, she draped her arm around his shoulders and turned around to face the King.  “Shakespeare, if you’re in the same place as King George, can you ask him very simply for me?  I just want to know why.  I don’t care if I never inherit anything, gain anything, or have nightmares for the rest of my life.  I just want to know what she did.”

In the presence of another world
You guess the things unguessed
In the fullness of another world
There is no emptiness

All at once, she felt very uneasy.  Every hair on the back of her neck stood up on end, like hackles raised on a dog or cat.  As sure as she was that she was physically alone in the room, she also knew that spiritually, that was not the case.  Tears streaming down her face, she looked up at the portrait of King George again.  “That’s just great!  Not only am I possessed by the spirit of my murdered great-grandmother, I just made a sad attempt at contacting William Shakespeare!  All I want to know is why she died!”  She choked back a sob as she wrapped her arms around her shivering body.  “Is that too damned much to ask?”

In the grand antique mirror up on the wall, Honey saw the library door behind her open.  For five heart pounding seconds, she stared at the open door with wide eyes.  She whirled around in time to see her own cousin come through the door with a rolling cart, piled high with steaming food.

“Look what the kitchen maids gave us for a snack.  Honey?” he said, stopping himself from lifting up the cover on the large serving dish.  “What’s wrong?  Oh God…” he said, looking around.  “She didn’t show up again, did she?”

“No.  You just scared the begeebees out of me, that’s all!”

Ben laughed.  “You should have come with me.  The kitchen maids were talking about some weird happenings around here lately.  I mean, I’ve always known that the Palace has always had its haunts and all, but what they were talking about might have something to do with our mystery.”

Honey’s eyes widened.  “Really?  Like what?”

Ben wheeled the cart over to the cherry wood table.  “One of the maids said that the Queen’s Welsh Corgis were acting very weird and spent most of the night growling and raising their hackles.  And, there’ve been some disturbances up on the third floor of our wing.  One of them said that one of the night servants went to check on it last night.  Apparently, there were some loud voices last night in one of the rooms.”

Honey shrugged.  “Buckingham Palace is a large place, Ben.  Chances are, she might’ve heard voices from the vent system or something.  Besides, I probably would have heard it since my bedroom is on the third floor.”

“That’s not all, though.  I didn’t mention it because I didn’t think anything of it.  I heard the voices, but not very clearly, but when she mentioned it to the other kitchen staff, I piped up and said that I had heard them, too.  You want to know what room the voices were coming from?”

“Mine,” Honey answered without wincing.  It truly bothered her that she was being troubled by spirits, even if they were family.

Ben nodded.  “At first, Miss Topper thought it was you, until she heard a child’s voice.  This is the kind of thing that has been going on for a long time.  They hear these voices.”

Honey crossed her arms.  “A child’s voice?”  Thoughtfully, she looked down at the sandwich her cousin handed her.  “Did they say what the child had said?”

“No.  I guess Miss Topper didn’t relay any of the information on.  Just that one of the voices was a child’s.”

“Strange how she just assumed that the voices were mine if she knows of these occurrences,” Honey mused.  “This might sound an awful lot like a certain detective we know, but I don’t entirely trust that woman.  She won’t talk about the Hart family, this secret, and then she claims to know about these voices, but just assumes that it was all just me.”

“Give her some credit, Honey.  It was your room.”

“If it was my room, why didn’t I hear it?  I was sound asleep.”

Ben’s expression gave Honey her answer.  He was right and both of them knew it.  Madeleine Hart was able to control Honey, her thoughts, and things that happened around her if she wanted to.  And, apart from Madeleine’s spirit, only Honey knew what her last utterance was before she went to bed.  Whatever it is you have to tell me, Madeleine, it can wait until tomorrow.

“Ben, I think something is going to happen, and it’ll happen tonight,” she said, raising her eyes to meet King George’s one more time.

The hush that fell over the room was deafening.


Honey sat next to her parents again that evening for dinner.  While the adults chatted between themselves about the news of the memorial service, she was left alone with her own musings.  It was intriguing that some day she would become Duchess of Kent.  She still didn’t want to do it, but it was written in the books.  It was an inherited position.  She noticed that her mother wasn’t part of any conversation being held at their table, so now was her chance to ask the nagging question in the back of her mind.

“Mother, is it required that I accept the dukedom once it’s time for me?”

Madeleine didn’t respond right away.  After a sip of wine and dabbing at the corner of her lips with the linen napkin, she turned to face her daughter.  “Why would you want to give it up?”

Honey explained her concerns with leaving her friends behind and living in England.

“You are allowed to give up your birthright, Honey, but I would advise you think long and hard about it.”

“If I were to give it up, who would get it?”

“Your Aunt Mary, if she is alive.  If she isn’t, then it would have to go to Ben.  Remember that five generations of Hart women have held that office, each of them named Madeleine.  I suppose it’s just a tradition, Honey.”

“I have another question.  Why is this inherited through women?  Aren’t men supposed to be the heir?”

The light from the chandelier glinted off the silver knife as she cut through her steak.  “I’m not sure when it originated,” Madeleine said.  “But, it has been a strong line and I don’t plan on being the first to break it.”

“I wish I’d brought a shawl or something,” Honey said, rubbing her bare arms and shivering just slightly.  “It’s cold in here.”

Madeleine looked up and past Honey to the fireplace at the end of the room and then back at the other fireplace on the other end.  “How can you be cold?  We have two fires going.”

Her teeth clattered.  “I’m just cold.  Maybe some hot cocoa would help.”

Madeleine.  I’m waiting for you in the library.

Honey froze.  No one’s reacting.  No one else heard that voice.  It was a kind voice, but with a hint of urgency.  Before excusing herself from the table, she glanced over at her cousin, who seemed to be involved in a conversation.  She thought about telling him where she was going, but decided against it.  This mystery concerns me.  There is no way he could possibly understand my motives for going back to the library tonight.  He’s not hearing the voice that I’m hearing.

“Mother,” she said quietly, resting her silverware on her fine, china plate,  “may I be excused?”

“Just remember that you must be present for the reading tonight,” she replied.  “You remember what room it’s in?”

“The office in this wing,” she answered.  “I’ll remember.”

Ben didn’t see her get up and leave the room.  It was what Honey had hoped he would do.  He would be angry with her later on, but he would get over it.  Ben wasn’t used to the scares that she had experienced in the past.  Ben didn’t know the horror of believing you were going to be burned alive, and reliving the death of Sarah Sligo.  He also didn’t know the feeling of watching a ghostly Headless Horseman as it silently galloped past.  All Ben knew was the prep academy he went to, and the fact that he would be going to school in Paris next year.  He knew how to throw his parents’ money around, sport his flashy car and everything else that would make him a millionaire’s son.  While Honey knew that deep down, he would support her and go through anything with her, she also couldn’t forget the look on his face when he first saw Madeleine Hart’s ghost – sheer terror.

No.  I will do this alone.  The message is for me, anyway.  Not for Ben.

She closed her eyes as she gripped the crystal doorknob on the library door.  In her heart, she could feel Madeleine’s presence in that room.  Shaking with fear, this being the first time she was willingly seeking the spirit, Honey turned the doorknob and entered the room.  It wasn’t the fear of Madeleine’s spirit as it was fear of what unexpected events might unfold before her.

The library was dark when she entered.  She tried the light switch, but nothing happened.  Her breath caught when a lone flame appeared on the far end of the room, where a candle burned dimly, creating a small amber halo around the flickering tongue of fire.

In the promise of another world
A dreadful knowledge comes
How even space can modulate
And earthly things be done

“I know you’re here,” Honey whispered.

“I am,” the kindly voice whispered in return.

A few tears rolled down Honey’s cheeks.  “I’m scared,” she sobbed.

“Don’t be.  There is no need.”  The young woman that Honey had seen three times the night before materialized in front of her, the spirit generating her own aura of light in the darkness.  Her eyes were warm and hazel in color, her honey-colored hair pulled up in a roll.  Her high cheekbones, perky nose, and slender figure were all definite Hart traits.

Slightly, the spirit raised her hand, palm up.  “Walk with me, Madeleine.”

Honey’s shaking hand extended and was just about to link with her ancestor when the library door flew open.  Startled, Honey backed off and pulled her hand back.

“Benjamin,” the spirit said calmly, not taking her eyes off her young descendant.

“Honey!  What’s going on?”

“Ben,” Honey said, taking her eyes off the spirit for only a second.  “It’s all right.  This is what we’ve been looking for this whole time.”  She drew in a deep breath and let it out.

Ben grew rigid.  He wasn’t at all comfortable with this.  To him, Honey seemed to act as if she had met a new friend, and not a ghost.  It was as if she couldn’t see that this person was from the spirit realm.

Out of the darkness, from behind the burning candle, two hooded guards emerged and took the young woman by her arms.

Honey opened her mouth to say something, but found she couldn’t speak.  The candle began to burn brighter and several others began to light by themselves.  The spirit turned and walked with the guards toward a bookcase.  In one fast movement, the enormous case fell forward, crashing to the floor in a thunderous boom revealing a doorway, filled with hundreds of years of cobwebs.

Honey jumped slightly from the noise from the impact and the rush of adrenaline that shot through her, but Ben practically wet himself.  The bookshelf had missed them by inches.

Stealing a look back at her heir, the spirit led the way through the passage, letting the darkness close in behind her.

“She wants us to follow her,” Honey said, tugging on Ben’s arm.

“Wait!” Ben squeaked, and then took a deep breath.  “Wait a minute, Honey,” he said, his voice normal once again, yet still rather shaky.

“Ben, it’s all right.  Don’t be afraid.”

His blue eyes, still wide with fright, shifted from his cousin to the doorway as a nervous laugh surfaced.  “You know, when I heard about how Trixie was such a good influence on you, I didn’t realize this also included chasing ghosts.”

Honey narrowed her eyes.  “I’m not just chasing them, Ben.  Our great-grandmother has a message for me, and I am determined to find out what it is.  If you want to stay here, that’s fine, but I’m going.  The answer to all my questions is down there,” she said, pointing to the ancient passageway.”

He took a hold of her arm before she could leave.  “Honey, I’m coming with you.”

“All right,” she said, removing his hand from her arm.

Ben drew in a deep breath and followed his cousin as they climbed over the fallen bookcase.  The passage was complete darkness, the opening draped with hundreds of years worth of dusty cobwebs.

Reaching out, Honey touched one of the fine strands.  Her fear of spiders returned for only a second, but vanished as she realized how silly it was for her to be following a spirit, yet shy away from a little spider.  Grabbing a book from a nearby shelf, she pushed away all the cobwebs until the path was clear.

“I can’t see anything,” she said, staring into the dark passage.  “Get one of the candles from that table.”

Quickly, before either of them could change their minds, Ben grabbed the candle.  He held it up in the darkness, hoping to illuminate something.  The flame died slightly as they entered.

“I should’ve known better,” Honey said, looking at the flame.  “For all the times I’ve seen Trixie do this, you’d think I would have thought of this before.  This has been closed up for centuries, Ben.  This is all dead air.”

Ben raised his eyebrows.  “Dead air?”

“It happened to Trixie in Williamsburg when we found a secret passage in this huge old plantation house,” she explained.  “Trixie was the first to go into it and Jim had to haul her back out because she grew too weak to move.  She wasn’t getting enough oxygen.  This happened to her once again up at The Pirate Inn, when she, well, insisted on being lowered in a dumbwaiter to find a secret passage.”

Ben rolled his eyes.  “Okay, that just about tops all the weird things she’s ever done.  A dumbwaiter?”

Honey giggled.  “I know.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, Ben.  If you had been there, you might’ve agreed.”

“Well, Honey,” he said, looking around him at the stone walls.  “I don’t think there’s any lack of oxygen in here since we’re breathing just fine and the flame is back to its original size again.”

“But wait until we get further down,” she said.  “We’re near the opening where there’s fresh air.”

Sure enough, Honey found it rather hard to breathe as they slowly crept down the hall.  The flame still lit the hallway, not yet revealing what waited for them at the end.

As a cool draft of air rushed between them, the candle flickered and went out.  Suffocating darkness closed in around them, as if someone had just put them in a very small dark box.  Her hands shaking, Honey gave a nervous laugh.

“Very funny, Ben,” she hissed.  “I hope you brought more matches!”

“I didn’t do it,” Ben defended himself.

“You did, Ben.  I felt your breath.”

“How could you feel my breath when I’ve been holding it?” he retorted.

Honey suddenly had visions of that large balloon from her childhood dreams.  It was closing in on her, making it very hard to breath.  “Ben, quit screwing around and just light the damn candle!” she ordered.

No sooner had she said this, the wick began to glow and a small flame flickered from the tip and made its way down to meet the wax.

Not trusting what might be standing in front of her, Honey closed her eyes tightly.  Convinced that none of this was a good idea, her bravery slipped away as she began to cry.

Ben remained silent, not really trusting his eyes, either.  Fully expecting to see something that would definitely haunt his dreams forever, he watched the darkness beyond the flame, just waiting in anticipation for something, or someone, to come forth into the light.

Honey felt the prickle of goosebumps as her skin grew cold.  “Ben?” she squeaked, her voice echoing.

“I’m here,” he answered, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

Her eyes were shut tight, so tight they began to hurt.  “Something’s here,” she wimpered.  “I can feel it!”

“There’s nothing here,” he answered, looking into her face.  “It’s okay, Honey.  You can open your eyes.”  Truth was, he wasn’t certain himself if there really was anyone there.

“I can’t!”

He took the candle from her and bravely held it further out.  Nothing.

“Honey, we’re fine.  Come on, now.  Do you still want to follow her?”

She hesitated for a moment.  She began with a nod, but quickly changed her mind and shook her head back and forth.  “No!  I want out of here!”

“Okay,” he said, turning her around.  “Oh my God,” he gasped.

“What!?” she cried, her eyes still shut.  “Ben!  What is it?”

“We’re closed in.”

Her eyes opened in an instant, panic shooting through her body like an electric jolt.  “We can’t be!”

“We are.”

Honey released a sob.  “I wish we’d never come in here!”

Ben began to shake.  “It’s okay,” he said, not sounding very sure of himself.  “I’m just as scared as you are.”

“That’s not very comforting,” she cried, wiping a series of tears away.  As she reached down to pick up her skirts, she felt an ice-cold hand grab her wrist.  Feelings of terror and dread ran through her blood in an instant.  Releasing a blood-curdling scream, she grabbed a hold of Ben, causing him to drop the candle.

The flame died once more.

“Honey!” Ben yelled.  “What happened?”

“S-someone g-grabbed me,” she cried, hardly able to breathe.

His heart began to pound extra hard.  This was the final straw.  He had put up with too much.  This time, he wasn’t going to allow Honey to follow the ghost.  Quickly, and without word, he spun Honey around and blindly headed down the dark corridor.

“Wait,” Honey said, stopping her cousin.  “We’re closed in, remember?  Whether we like it or not, we’re going to have to go back the other way and continue.”

“No.  You’re hysterical, Honey.  I’m getting you out of here.”

Honey choked back another sob.  “I might be hysterical, but I also know that there is no way out of here!  I’ve been in more dire situations than this, Ben.  I’ve been in a room where I thought I was going to be burned alive.  I’ve been kidnapped by the best of them.  I’ve had my very life threatened more than once.  One ghost is just one more log to add to the fire.”  Openly, she began crying and growing a little more hysterical.  “I’m scared, Ben.  I won’t deny that!  Whatever we encounter, we’ll just have to deal with!”

“Honey?”

“Don’t argue with me!”  By now, Honey was bawling uncontrollably.  “I’m scared, Ben!  I know you are, too!  I’ll probably end up in a madhouse after this, but I really don’t care.  There is no other way out of this other than to continue!”

Ben reached forward, found Honey’s head and pulled her into a hug and let her cry on his shoulder.  “All right, ‘Cuz,” he said, smoothing her hair.

The sounds of an iron slide bolt being unlocked brought Honey back to her senses.  Pulling back from her cousin, she cried, “There’s a way out!  Look!”  Torches on either side of the door lit up, revealing stone steps.

“But where do these stairs go?” he asked, cautiously.

“They go up,” she answered, rolling her eyes.  “Think about it, Ben.  I’ve never known this passage was here, let alone even been to Buckingham Palace.  How should I know where that door leads?” 

The next moment was surreal.  Madeleine Hart, escorted by the two guards, somberly walked past Honey and Ben.  Her hands were tied with ropes, her ankles in iron shanks.  The large door opened, revealing a large platform complete with hanging rope, gallows, and a chopping block.  Several townspeople were in attendance to witness the execution of the duchess, all waiting patiently for her to arrive.

A hush fell over the crowd.  Several of the villagers spat as she walked by.  Several women called out obscenities while others called her names.  One woman in particular lashed out at her and had to be pushed back by one of the guards.

Honey held on to Ben’s hand tight as she watched her great-grandmother approach the platform.  The high executioner stood by the chopping block and watched through two holes in his black hood as she climbed the steps.  A husky, hooded man stood in the background, holding a very large, sharp, crescent shaped axe.  When the crowd died down, Madeleine was positioned just a few feet behind the chopping block.  Her hands, tied with rope, were set free in order to tie them in place later.

“I’m not sure I can watch,” Honey said to her cousin.

“I know the feeling,” he answered, his voice trembling.  “None of it’s real, Honey.  It’s all a dream.”

“I wish it were,” she answered.

“Please!  I am entitled to last words, am I not?” the young woman pleaded with the hooded man directing the execution.

A large, gruff hand tightly gripped her slender arm.  “Why should we give you the satisfaction?”

“Let her have her last word,” came a voice from high up.  “What’s it going to matter anyway?  It’s not like anyone will really believe her.  I mean, she was traitorous to the throne.”

Madeleine lowered her eyes and looked out and down to the crowd.  “Doubt if you must, my loyalty to the Crown.  My actions will be questioned for years to come.  History will be written as the Crown sees fit.  Never again will my name be spoken of as a woman who held a royal position, but as a woman traitorous.  I am a woman, and that was my only fault, and I find no fault in my femininity.  Your King makes his own rules and you are aware of this.  Why, he has tried to circumvent the church in its divorce doctrines.  If your Sovereign were a woman, I might not stand accused.  Britain will change, believe me or not.  I am no pioneer as I was born into this role and had access to the power.”

“Look, is this going to take any longer?  We’ve got three more executions today and I planned to get them finished before tea.”

Madeleine paid no attention to the taunts of the high executioner.  Instead, she shifted her eyes up to the fashionably dressed man who stood at his balcony.  His personal servant stood behind him.  “King, you are sovereign and because I disobeyed, I must die.  But remember this!  Never forget this!  My daughter lives on and she will know the truth and because of this, generations from now will learn the truth.  The truth:  I did not steal from the Crown.  I did not hide anything from the Crown.  The Crown took from me, because it has the power and the right.  By King George’s orders, it had the right.  My daughter will now take my place as Duchess of Kent and I take my place in the ranks of those who will spend all eternity haunting your nights forever…” she raised her voice.  Calmly, she added, “my King.”  As she finished, she bowed dramatically.

In a single hand gesture, the King signaled for the execution to take place.  “I’ve heard enough.”

Honey gasped as the hooded man thrust the woman down in one quick swoop of his arm.  As she fell against the block, two other guards tied her wrists down and looped a rope around her slender body.  She did not struggle or try to run away.  It was as if she was giving in to the allegations against her.

Stunned and too scared to move, Honey watched as a clergyman appeared from beside the platform and approached her.  “My child,” he said.  “Do you repent of your sins against the Throne and God?”

“It depends on whose God you’re talking about,” she answered calmly.  “My God is not the same as the King’s.”

“Then, child, you do not repent?”

“I have nothing to repent for.  I did not steal, but let it go down in history books that I did such heinous deeds, for it is what the King wants.”

“Then, my child, thy fate is in the hands of the good Lord.”

Madeleine nodded and relaxed her head on the large block, turned so she could look into the eyes of her great-great-great-great granddaughter, who was clutching her cousin as if she were holding on to life.  Her face, fear stricken and tear-stained, pale in color.

“Traitors to the Crown must die!” the hooded man called out to the crowd, his hand raised up high.  The large, burly man behind him held the axe high up over his head, his hands trembling under the weight.  “Let this one woman be an example.”  With that, he lowered his hand, signaling to the man behind him to bring the heavy axe down.

Honey shrieked as she turned her head to avoid seeing the beheading take place.  The sound of the large axe hitting bone and then wood jarred her, sending vibrations through to Honey’s heart.  She refused to watch as they carted the body and head away.

Ben’s arms rested around her shoulders as he allowed her to cling to him.  He never thought he’d live to see anything that he had seen in the last few days, let alone attending the beheading of an ancestor of his.

Everything around them turned to darkness, as if the past were fading away and returning to its place in history.  He hated to see his cousin like this.  She never asked to be haunted by Madeleine’s spirit, nor did she ever do anything to deserve it.

“Why did she lead us here?” she asked her cousin.  “Couldn’t she have just let us know what the big secret was before?  Did we really have to witness this?”

“I’m not sure, Honey,” he answered.  “But, it seems to be over.”

As the last bit of daylight dwindled away, Honey lowered her eyes.  She was no longer able to see Ben.  She just knew of his presence.

“I’ll be happy when I’m back in Sleepyside away from all this,” she said, starting to relax a little and not letting go of him.  All at once, Honey grew very rigid.  All senses told her that someone was there, and that someone was not her cousin.  She lifted her head to look behind her.  At a far away distance, two glowing red eyes stared at her.  She didn’t even have to think twice.  Neither did Ben.  Without another glance behind, they blindly took off down the dark hall, her skirts swishing around her legs as they ran.

“Run for your life, Madeleine!” whispered Madeleine Hart’s voice.  It sounded as if it were just inches from their ears.

“No!” Honey screamed in terror, running faster.

As fast as they ran, they didn’t seem to be escaping the voice—the terrified whisper that warned Honey to run for her life.  Not knowing where they were running, the hallway seemed to go forever; no end in sight, their feet pounded with each stride.

“Come on, Honey!  Faster!  Run faster!” Ben cried.

Honey didn’t reply.  She gathered up more of her skirts to avoid tripping on them.  Her legs were growing tired.  She was a swimmer, not a track star.

Ben reached out and found Honey’s hand to help pull her along, as his longer legs made him gain distance over her.  Honey’s skirts grew slack, the hem of her dinner gown dragging on the ground.

“Ahhh!  Ben!” she screamed just before going down; her foot caught on the hem of her gown.

“Honey!” he cried, stopping a few feet down and feeling around on the ground for her.  He looked behind them and gasped.  “Honey!  Get up now!”

“I’m trying!” she yelled.  She looked up and behind as she scrambled to her feet.  The red eyes still charged after them.  “Leave me alone!” she wailed, trying to get up.

The only answer to her plea was a terror-striking scream from the direction of the red, fiery eyes.  As she watched, too scared to move, glowing eyes drew closer, increasing in speed as they went.  The scream grew louder and louder, drowning out Honey’s own blood-curdling scream.

Ben found her arm, pulled her to her feet and took off, pulling her behind.  He ran hard and fast, not knowing where he was going, or what was in front of him.  He knew that the end of the long corridor had to be coming up soon.  He blocked out the scream as it echoed down the hall as he raced against the unknown.

“Run, Honey!” he encouraged.  “Don’t look at it!  Just run!”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she forced herself to keep going.  The thunderous pounding of the footsteps behind her drowned out their pounding feet in their futile attempt to run from the source of the glowing eyes and wailing.

A white glowing figure at the end of the tunnel was the first refreshing sight Honey had seen since this thing started chasing them.  The figure opened a door, revealing the comforting interior of the library in which Honey and Ben had started this whole adventure.  The finish line in view, Honey kicked it into high gear and ran for her life.  As they drew closer, the horrific wailing grew louder.

“Just a few more feet!” Honey cried to her cousin.  “Go!  Go!  Go!”

They made it.  As they tore past the white, faceless figure and into the comforting depths of the library, Honey and Ben ran straight into the overturned bookcase.  Ben was able to jump up and avoid the obstacle.  Honey, on the other hand, didn’t have much warning and was still wearing her heels.  She jumped up and landed on some overturned books, but as unsteady as they were, she fell and hit the bookcase.  Her ankle throbbed as she gathered her herself up and climbed off the bookshelf.  The hollow wailing echoed down the hall, alerting Ben and Honey of its presence.

“Hurry!” Ben cried, rushing over to help her up.  “Are you hurt?”

“I think I sprained it,” she cried.  “I won’t be able to run!”

“Can you walk on it?”

Honey tried to take a step.  Dull pains went shooting up her leg, her ankle feeling numb.  “Yes, I can, but I just won’t be able to run.”

“All right.  Come on,” he said, putting his arm around her, helping her along.

With one last look behind, Honey saw the figure emerge from the doorway.  He was the high executioner.  He stopped and stared straight at them, his eyes glowing red through the holes in his black hood.  In the next second, he vanished.

“Ben…” Honey’s voice trailed off as she broke down and sobbed on his shoulder.  “What do they want with us?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, his blue eyes wide with exhaustion and concern.

Voices outside the library door made Honey shudder.  “I can’t stand this anymore!  I wish I had never been so curious to find out what happened.”

“There’s nothing you can do now, Honey,” he answered.  “You didn’t know, and quite frankly, I don’t blame you for being curious.”

There was a knock before the door opened.  Miss Topper peeked her head inside.  “Miss Wheeler?  Master Riker?  Oh!” she saw the fallen bookshelf and realized that Honey was in tears.  “Dear me!  You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No,” Honey sobbed and turned to look at the shelf.  It was then that she noticed that the doorway had disappeared and it was a solid wall again.  “It, um, fell and just missed us by inches.”

Miss Topper eyed the two suspiciously.  She noticed Honey’s swollen, bruised ankle and the look of fright in their faces.  Her light brown eyes studied their faces and then trailed over to the fallen bookshelf as they explained.

“Perhaps you should be on your way to the will reading.  They’re beginning right now,” she said, smiling.  “I was sent to get you.”

Honey and Ben made eye contact and simultaneously nodded.  “I suppose,” Honey said, her voice still shaky.  “I would like to have time to change first,” she said.  “I feel like I’ve been through the wringer.”

“There really is no time for that,” Miss Topper said, before they could leave.  “They’re waiting for you.”

Honey nodded.  Before heading out the library door, she turned around once more to smile her thanks to the head maid.

“Wait,” Ben said quickly, looking at his watch.  “It’s only nine-thirty.  The reading is at ten o’clock.  We have plenty of time for Honey to change and freshen up.  I admit I would like to freshen up as well.  It gave us both a good scare.”

Miss Topper’s smile faded, but returned.  “I must’ve misunderstood.  I thought you were late.”

Ben turned to leave, but Honey hesitated.  “Ben, there is something I would like to bring to the reading tonight.”

Ben turned to face her and raised his eyebrows.  “All right…” his voice trailed off, as he really didn’t know what Honey was talking about.  He watched as she limped over to the large portrait of King George and began to feel around the bottom edges of it.

“Honey?” he asked, his sandy eyebrows knitted.  “What’re you up to?”

Honey felt along the bumpy edges, looking for a latch, very much like the one that is underneath the Van Gogh in her father’s study that held all sorts of very important documents.  The same kind of latch was found along the side of the portrait at Ten Acres, where she and Trixie had found Nell Frayne’s diamond engagement ring.  Both portraits are just like this one, Honey reasoned to herself.  Something stands out in every one of them and catches the eye.  Only this one is just like any of the other portraits in this room except to me.  Honey glanced up at her cousin and then shifted her eyes over to Miss Topper.  Ben’s eyes held question as he was genuinely curious as to what Honey was up to.  Miss Topper’s eyes, although trying to appear questioning, bored holes right through her.

A-ha!

Honey grinned.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to be nosey, but since I have half an hour before the reading, I would like to see what’s behind this picture.”

“Nothing but a wall, I’m afraid,” Miss Topper said, crossing her arms.

Honey made eye contact with Ben and then smiled even wider.  “But my well-trained eye knows that there is something behind this portrait.  Notice how there is a very slight gap between the wall and the frame?”

Miss Topper did not look amused.  “That doesn’t mean anything.  Now come along.”

Suddenly, Honey took full advantage of her role as heir and pointed toward the picture.  “No, Miss Topper.  I would like to see what’s behind here.  Now don’t make me ask again!”

“Listen here, lassie,” the head maid said, growing cross.  “I’ve already told you that there is nothing behind that painting.  Now hurry up and get ready for the reading!”

Honey felt cheap for using her inherited royal office as a way to get what she wanted, but felt frustrated that it wasn’t getting her anywhere.  She didn’t care to tell her that she had just witnessed the execution of her own ancestor, but wanted to at least see what was behind the portrait.  Growing up in a very wealthy family, she learned many things about servants.  Good help is very hard to find; you never ask Celia to fill in for Robin, the cook; and you always…always check references on applications before you hire.  Dick the Dip will always be an important lesson for the Wheeler family.  But, the most important rule of all is that servants were there to take orders—not give them.

“Miss Topper,” Honey said, raising her voice a little.  “I realize that my family is expecting me, but I have reason to believe that there is a safe behind this painting.  I’m sure your supervisor would really hate to find out you aren’t carrying out your duties like you should.”

“My duties?  Listen here, young lady,” she said, approaching the honey-haired heiress.  “My duties include looking after the other maids, making sure things are ship-shape, and making sure our guests are not destroying property and this also includes children of the rich who make demands.”  Her eyes met Honey’s.  They turned from blue to more of a light gray.  “And, futile threats to report me to my supervisor are quite insulting.  You know, kids like yourself and your cousin remind me every day of all the little royals who grew up never needing a bloomin’ job—never having the feeling that they need to work to be able to eat.”

Honey deeply stared into the icy blue eyes.  “You think I remind you of all the little princes and princesses around here who spend their days playing sports, shopping, partying or traveling and not working one day in their lives, right?  Ever heard of the Bob-Whites of the Glen?  We are a hard working group of kids who have earned a lot of respect where we come from.  I don’t demand respect, but I would very much appreciate it if you wouldn’t openly judge me based on the fact that my father is loaded and that my mother is next in line for Kent.  And before you “young lady” me again, let me just tell you something.  I’m getting awfully tired of people just assuming that I am one of those kids who free loads off of others, who deliberately makes messes just to watch the help clean up.  You know, I’m usually very mild-mannered and extremely tactful, but you’re really beginning to piss me off.  My request was simple and if all there is is just a wall behind this portrait, you should have no problem showing me this wall unless you’re hiding something.”

Miss Topper’s cheeks flushed.  “Right.  As you wish.  Master Riker, I will require your assistance.”

Honey stood back and watched as Miss Topper and her cousin removed the painting, hoping to find a safe or at least a hole in the wall.  When the painting was removed, Honey’s shoulders dropped and her eyes shifted downward.  This is embarrassing!

“Please accept my apologies,” Honey mumbled, playing with a fallen strand of golden hair.  “I’m very sorry.”

Miss Topper sighed.  “Apology accepted, Miss Wheeler.  I had hoped that you would have believed me.  This portrait is very old and I just hate moving it.”

Honey felt tears well up in her eyes.  She felt guilty and shameful, as if she had just cut this woman to pieces for only doing her job.  She should have known that she would have felt this way, but she just had to see what was behind the painting.  Trixie would have done the same thing, so don’t feel so bad, Honey Wheeler.  Trixie would also have felt bad later on.  A lump formed in her throat as she realized that it’s a possibility that Trixie would’ve just accepted the fact that Miss Topper just wouldn’t allow it and wouldn’t have pressed the issue.  Why?  Because Trixie’s not a royal heiress, she’s not rich, and she’s used to taking orders instead of giving them.

“I feel so stupid,” Honey confessed to her cousin as they made their way to the large office where the former Duchess’s lawyer would read the will.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, Honey,” Ben said, lightly chucking her on the shoulder.  “I was just as curious, too, and after you started talking about it, I also began to believe that there was something there.”

“I guess I have a lot to learn about subtlety, diplomacy, and have to get used to people thinking I’m just a stereotype.  You know, snobby and all that.”

Ben smiled ruefully.  “I guess people like me don’t help at all.  There’s just something about a rich kid driving a yellow Porsche who is going to Paris to go to school that just screams ‘Spoiled, rotten, rich, snobby kid who’s never seen a day of work in his life and who whines to Daddy when the money runs out.”

Honey laughed.  “I suppose.  This is why I’m glad I had it out with Mother and Daddy when they tried to buy me a new Mercedes for when I get my license next year.  I don’t want anything that others could use to label me as rich or snobby.”  When they reached the office, she turned to him as she put her hand on the crystal doorknob.  “Which is why I’m giving up my inheritance.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ben, I think this is what Madeleine is trying to tell me, and I don’t want to go through life as the rich society dame, dripping with diamonds.  I might be related to royalty, but I don’t have to become royalty.  Know what I mean?”

He nodded.  “I hope you’re making the right decision.”

“I hope so, too.”  She turned the knob and the two of them entered.  Honey took her seat next to her parents and Ben next to his.

Grandmother Hart scowled at the two young people as they promptly took their seats.  Mr. Geoffrey Standish sat at the head of the large oval table with Grandmother Hart next to him.  Most of the will would be directed to her, but each member of the family was promised something.

Honey listened as Mr. Standish addressed each of the adults and discussed just what they would be receiving.  Madeleine and Matthew held hands as he addressed them.  Honey’s mother paid close attention as he rambled on and on about her new role in the United Kingdom as well as the United States.

Honey, on the other hand, didn’t pay very close attention.  She began thinking about that wall behind the portrait.  She knew deep in her heart that that portrait was hiding something important.  There was just something that stood out about it like she had thought before.  Her mind was reeling from the past few days’ events and things that had been found out and said.

“I’ve heard stories, Miss Wheeler, and you will, too.” Miss Topper’s voice echoed through her head.  “But I must warn you, do not believe everything you hear or read.  It is best for you to pay it no mind and go to bed.”

“Miss Topper won’t talk about it, and even grew rather nervous when I brought it up the last time.  Either she’s really afraid of talking about a dead person, or someone doesn’t want her to talk about it.”  It was just what Honey had told her cousin before she came to the conclusion that there might’ve been someone out there who doesn’t want her to talk about the Hart secret.

“Apparently, there were some loud voices last night in one of the rooms.  At first, Miss Topper thought it was you, until she heard a child’s voice.  This is the kind of thing that has been going on for a long time.  They hear these voices.”  Ben had relayed this information on.  She had thought it was very odd that Miss Topper would suspect that it was Honey talking when she was fully aware of the voices that were often heard coming from her room.

All this only confirmed for her that Miss Topper had something to do with this secret.  From the way she glared at Honey when she asked to see what was behind the portrait, it was almost obvious.  However, she really had a legitimate reason for not wanting to move that painting.  It was very old, and the frame was too heavy for her to lift alone.  It took several minutes for both Miss Topper and Ben to put the portrait back up.

Even though Miss Topper had acted suspicious, she really couldn’t have known that Honey and Ben had seen the ghost of Madeleine Hart and even witnessed her execution.  At last, Honey decided that Miss Topper was just a paranoid maid with a critical eye.

But there’s more to it than just Miss Topper, Honey thought to herself.  What was it Trixie had told me about what King George had done before he died?  Oh yes…

“Shortly before his own death on June 26th, 1830, he made a rather odd transaction.  He acquired land that wasn’t worth much of anything to the crown.  It’s what’s called a rotten borough.”

Again, what could King George really want with a rotten borough?

“Anyway, when this land went to him, there was only one resident.” Trixie had explained before over the phone.  She remembered Trixie saying that no one was made a lord or lady; that it was just an empty house.

And, even then, Honey doubted that this transaction really had anything to do with this.

But it very well could have been her land he had acquired since her death was on May 15th 1830 and he died a little over a month later.  I remember reading that his death was due to drugs and alcohol.  It’s not surprising since he did spend most of his time at parties.  Then she remembered something she had read about how women couldn’t own land in England in the 1800s.

It certainly fits, she thought.  If she kept the land her husband left her after he died, and had no other male in her family to relinquish it to, it would more than likely go to the King.  Suddenly, it hit her.

“My daughter lives on and she will know the truth and because of this, generations from now will learn the truth.  The truth:  I did not steal from the Crown.  I did not hide anything from the Crown.  The Crown took from me because it has the power and the right.”

She heard it straight from her own ancestor’s lips.  The Crown took something from her, obviously her own land, by force and she put up a fight.  But, surely that’s not anything to execute anyone over.

As Mr. Standish continued to ramble on about Great-Grandmother Hart’s estate, Honey sat in silence, letting her thoughts run through her head over and over like someone stuck in a revolving door.

What was she accused of stealing?  Whatever it was, it’s been haunting the Hart family for a long time.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Honey.  That door in the wall!  Of course!

“If you’ll excuse me,” she spoke up, interrupting Mr. Standish’s droning.  “I have something I need to do.  I’ll be right back.”

“Honey!” her mother scorned.  “Whatever it is, it can wait!”

Honey didn’t wait to answer her mother.  Limping, she hurried to the office door.  “I’m really sorry about this interruption, but this is really important and…” She looked over her shoulder.  Her mother flushed with embarrassment while her father grew angry for her outburst.  Ben immediately jumped up and joined her at her side.

Grandmother Hart scowled at her two grandchildren.  “Children!  You take your seats this instant!”

“I’m sorry, Grandmother,” Honey cried, stepping through the door.  “Like I said.  I’ll be right back!”  With that, the two hurried down the hallway.

“What’s up?  Where are you going?”

“I think I have it, Ben!” Honey cried, her lips stretching into a wide grin.  “I really have it!”

“By George she’s got it!” Ben joked, and, at Honey’s glare, he apologized.  “I’m sorry.  That was bad taste.”

Honey giggled.  “I’ll forgive you—this time, that is.”

As fast as her limp would let her, they hurried back to the library.  As they approached the hall where they would find the library door, they skidded to a stop.

“Honey, I’m not real sure I’m liking this,” Ben said, not taking his eyes off the two black hooded guards standing at the end of the hallway.  One carried a hatchet while the other held a mace.

“They don’t look like ghosts anymore,” she whispered.  “Not only do they look real, I’m sure those weapons are real, too.”

“They’re freaky looking monsters, aren’t they?” Ben asked, trying to sound relaxed.

Just as he uttered his words, their eyes began to glow red again.

“Ben, I think they can hear you.”

“I think you’re right,” he said, turning to look at his cousin.

When they turned their heads back to keep an eye on the guards, they realized that they were no longer down at the end of the hall.  Honey and Ben looked at each other once more and realized that the guards had moved to just a few feet behind them.

“Run for it!” Honey cried and took off, wincing in pain as her ankle stung in pain.

As they ran for the library, heavy feet pounded behind them as the guards were right on their ankles.  Ben reached the library first and opened the door.  As he reached back to grab a hold of Honey, one of the guards reached out for her.

“Ben!” Honey screamed, holding her hand out to him.

His hand grabbed a hold of hers and pulled her out of the guards’ reach and into the library.

The guards pounded on the door as Ben pushed against it with all his might.  He flipped the bolt and locked the door, hoping it would keep the guards for a little bit.  Several candles were lit, illuminating the entire room in a dim, amber glow.

“Over to the painting,” Honey directed him.  “It’s there.”

“But Honey, you’ve already seen for yourself that there is nothing behind there.”

“Do you know why?” Honey asked, hopping on one leg and leaning into her cousin as he helped her to the portrait.  “Because Miss Topper was in here.  Didn’t you notice that the doorway disappeared when she entered the room before?”

Ben helped her to the table where they had previously sat to muddle through the endless books to find out the information they wanted.  On the wall next to the table was the same portrait of King George.  The pounding on the door started to wear at the hinges as they began to come loose.

“I don’t think I even noticed,” he answered.

“Well, anyway, I’m almost certain that there is something behind this portrait.”

Honey hopped over to the portrait, using the table as a crutch and helped Ben remove the portrait.  The pounding stopped for only a few seconds and was replaced by the hatchet hitting the wood.  Now, it was only a matter of seconds.

As fast as they could, they took the portrait down.  Honey’s face fell when she realized that there still was a wall behind the painting.

“Damn!” she swore.  “You know, I just knew in my head that this was the place I’d find what Madeleine was trying to lead me to.”

“So what are we going to do now?” he asked, keeping an eye on the library door.  With every swing of the hatchet, the door shook and rattled.

Honey lifted her hand up and rapped on the wall.  There was an echo.

“Yes!” she cried.  “Here it is!”

“And so we’re just going to put a hole in one of the walls at Buckingham Palace,” Ben said.  “Well, I suppose we might as well go all out and just do it if you’re that determined.”

“Benjamin Price Riker!  You know full well you want to see this as bad as I do!  After you saw Madeleine for the first time, you wouldn’t even let me give up!  Now we’ve got to find something to knock this wall space in.”

“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he answered, jumping as the hatchet hit the door outside.  “We could always wait until that guard gets in here and take his hatchet from him.”

“Nuts with that,” she cried.  “There is no way I’m going to take an axe away from some psycho ghost who just charged after us.”

“We’d better think quick.  They’re almost in.”

Honey studied the wall.  “It’s only plaster, and it’s probably very old plaster at that.”  Frantically, she looked around.  “If only we can find something to break it down with.”

“I got it!” Ben cried and hurried away.  A few seconds later, he returned with a few of the pokers from the fireplace.  “Use these!”

Honey grabbed one and immediately started jabbing the wall.  Plaster chips went flying.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Honey,” Ben said, helping her out.  “I’m not sure the Queen would really appreciate holes in her Palace.”

“Well, she’ll just have to live with it.  Besides, I’ll help pay for it.”

“I will, too,” Ben added.

As they worked, the guards at the library door continued to chop the door down.

“Stand back,” Ben ordered.  He took his fire poker with the hook at the end and aimed for a spot and pulled back.  With as much force as he could muster, he swung hard, jamming the hook through the old, plaster wall.  As he repeatedly chopped through the wall, the guards finally broke through top frame of the door with the hatchet. 

It wasn’t long before he had a small hole in the wall.  He started to pry against the old plaster wall, breaking away chunks and sending bits and pieces flying.

“Hurry!” Honey urged, looking behind her at the door.  She could see one of the guards peering in through the door, very much in the same fashion Jack Nicholson did in “The Shining.”

Finally, Ben had a nice size hole in the wall and dropped his poker.  He pulled and tugged on the wall until all the pieces crumbled and fell apart, leaving a three-foot tall hole in the wall.

“Climb in!” Honey cried.

“Hang on,” Ben said, grabbing a few candles.  “I’m not going to play this one again with only one candle.”

“Look!  It’s a secret passage way!” Honey cried, poking her head in.  “I wonder where it leads!”

“Only one way to find out,” Ben said, hopping through the hole after helping her in first.  He took one last look behind them only to see that the guards had successfully chopped the door down.

“Oh, shit!”

“What?” Honey cried, hobbling her way down the passage.

“They’re through the door.”

“Never mind them, Ben.  We’re almost to the end of the hall.  I can see a small door.”

Hurrying as fast as they could with Honey’s limp, they made it to the end of the passage and to the door.  By now, Honey’s ankle was throbbing in so much pain she could barely walk on it.

Honey gripped the small, brass doorknob and pushed the door open.  “It’s my room!” she gasped.  Before she could say anymore, the sound of a little girl playfully singing a nursery rhyme echoed through the room.

The little girl’s honey-colored locks tumbled around her slender shoulders as she stood up from her spot on the floor and toddled over to the vanity and crawled up on the velvet-cushioned seat.  Her small legs hung down from the seat, the toes of her white boots barely grazing the throw rug underneath.  Her creamy-white and blue empire-waist dress bunched in her lap as she tried to position herself on the bench and grabbed a hold of a wooden jewelry box.

Madeleine, Madeleine
hiding secrets from the King!
Madeleine, Madeleine
what trouble you bring!

Honey’s jaw dropped.  “Ben,” she whispered.  “It’s her daughter.  Madeleine II of Kent.  I’m sure of it!”

“What was it she said before?  Her last words?” Ben asked.

My daughter lives on and she will know the truth and because of this, generations from now will learn the truth.  The truth:  I did not steal from the Crown.  I did not hide anything from the Crown.

“She said that through her daughter, generations from now would find out the truth.”

“And that is?”

Honey approached the young girl.  Her heart skipped as she realized how much this little girl resembled all of the Hart women when they were young.  “What is the truth?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The girl’s hazel eyes looked upward to meet Honey’s eyes.  Instead of verbally answering her, she held out the small wooden box that she had seen Madeleine use before for the diamond necklace and the note that she had written.  She held out her hands to take the box, but her fingers slipped through it.

“Don’t take it,” the young girl said.  “Let me give it to you.”

Honey bit her lip and held her hands out, palms up and allowed the young girl to place the wooden jewelry box in them.  The box, traveling between the ethereal plane and reality, created a jolt through Honey’s body that it almost caused her to drop the box.

“The truth,” she told Honey with a child-like grin.  “For Mother.”

A slight tear trailed down the curves of Honey’s nose, settling just above her lip.  “Thank you,” she whispered and sniffed.

The little girl smiled back at her and disappeared.

“Do you want to open it?” Ben asked.

Honey nodded, allowing the one tear to escape her lip and fall.  She sat down where the little girl had been and set the box down.  A heart with a ribbon around it and the capital letter “H” in the middle had been intricately carved in.  “I feel like Pandora,” she joked, hoping to break the silence.

Before Honey could open the box, however, her bedroom door opened.  As tight as she held onto the box, Honey also held her breath and watched.  Eyes wide as saucers, Ben kept a watch on the bedroom door, too.

Miss Topper poked her head in.  “Oh!  Gracious me.  I thought I heard voices in here.  Say, I thought you two were supposed to be at the will reading.”  She approached the two young people, her face bright with a smile.  But, when she saw the old wooden box, her smile fell.  “How did you get that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Honey spat.  “You’ve known all along, haven’t you?”

She tried to snatch the box away from her, but Ben was too quick.  Swiftly, he thrust his hand out and stopped her.

“This box belongs to Honey.  Whatever you have to do with it, I don’t know.  But it was given to Honey.”

“This box contains the very things that the royal family has tried to hide for centuries.  If you open that now, the Monarchy will be ruined.”

Honey glared at her.  “No, Miss Topper.  Just you.  You’re the only one who’ll be ruined.”

Ben didn’t really have any idea what his cousin was talking about, but went along with it.  Being surprised would give Miss Topper a chance to accuse Honey of making things up.

“We know all about you,” Honey said.  “You hated Madeleine.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.  If you’re talking about your family line, the reason why I refuse to talk about it is because of the little girl’s voice I hear from this room as she’s singing about how she held secrets from the King, and how she’s brings trouble for the Royal Family.”

“That might be what you tell the tourists, Miss Topper, but I’m not a tourist.  I’m a Hart woman, and I know your secret.”

“I don’t know what secret you’re talking about, but please don’t open that box!” she pleaded with the young girl, her blue eyes wide with fright.

“And what if I do?  Are you afraid everything about you will come out in the open?”

“You’re talking nonsense!”

“Am I?  You were at the execution.  You saw your best friend beheaded.  I know this, because I saw you there.”

Miss Topper remained silent.

“You were in front.  Madeleine looked directly at you when she said, ‘Doubt, if you must, my loyalty to the Crown.’  At first, I thought she was talking to the crowd in general, but then I recognized you.  We came across a photo of a painting of Madeleine with her best friend, Lucille Topper.  That’s you, and you betrayed your best friend.”

The woman turned pale with fright.  “Oh my god!”

Honey smiled.  “And you tried to stop me from finding things out.  You figured after a day of looking, we’d give up.  But you didn’t count on anyone making any appearances, did you?  Yes.  Madeleine Hart led me right to you.  She said that through her daughter, future generations would find the truth.  I found you.”

Miss Topper began to breathe hard and twitch.  “I’ve been damned to live in guilt for ever,” she cried, her whole body quivering.  “I’ve admitted to you who I am.  Just please!  Don’t open that box!”

Honey placed her hand on the top of the box.  “I think it’s time I find out the truth about why Madeleine Hart was put to death.”  She cracked open the box.

“NOOOO!” Miss Topper screamed and lunged for the box.  This time, Ben was not strong enough to hold her back.

Honey yanked the box back and out of Miss Topper’s reach, causing her to stumble and fall forward.  She brought the box back down in front and opened it all the way up.

“Please!  What you already know is the truth.  Please don’t!”

But, it was too late.  Honey had already opened the box and was staring down a small, brown envelope with a black wax seal that had been stamped with a heart.

The second Honey touched the envelope with her long, slender fingers, Miss Topper fell to the floor like a rag doll.  Lying face down, her breath gurgled until it dwindled away into silence.  Ben stooped down to check her pulse.

“I don’t feel anything,” he said.  “I think she’s dead.”

“She’s been dead all this time, Ben.”

“How did you know that she was also from the spirit realm?”

Honey pulled the envelope out of the box.  “You have to be in my shoes to understand that.  You would have had to see the way she glared at me when I wanted to see what was behind that portrait.  She was afraid I might find something.”

“We did, you know.  It lead us right back here.”

Honey nodded.  “I’m wondering if this room used the belong to Madeleine or her daughter.  Plus, it just seemed that whenever she was around, there were guards and strange things would always happen.  When Madeleine was here, I felt at ease, but when Miss Topper was around, I felt kind of nervous.”

“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asked.

She nodded, her previously-styled-but-now-lopsided honey-colored hair falling to one side.  “But not until I we get back to the will reading.”

Taking it easy, Ben walked Honey back to the office.  Grandmother Hart was seething with anger at her own grandchildren’s outbursts and interruptions.  Both sets of parents ordered their children inside and to take their seats.

Without making eye contact with anyone, Honey set the wooden jewelry box on the table and opened it.

“What is that?” Mrs. Wheeler asked her daughter.  “It has the Hart Seal.”

Honey pulled the envelope out of the box and slid it across the table to her great grandmother.  Carefully, the older woman opened the envelope and pulled out an old, time-yellowed piece of stationary with ink writing on it.  Along with it was a folded deed.

To the future generations,

    Tonight I will die by the King’s orders.  Here is my written confession to my crime.  I am accused of stealing land from William Keelingsly of Kent, therefore abusing my royal office.  By the signature on the enclosed deed, William Keelingsly does indeed own this land.  William Keelingsly does not exist.

I am William Keelingsly.  I owned that land.  The King knew this and ordered me to relinquish the land to him, but I refused.  Instead, I had a false deed drawn up to name the owner.  If the land still belongs to the crown, by this letter, future generations are entitled to this estate.

Sincerely,
Madeleine Grace Hart – Duchess of Kent


November 14, 1985

Honey helped herself to a salad at the cafeteria at Sleepyside High and waited at the table to meet her friends as they came in for lunch.  She missed school that morning as her family hadn’t arrived home until sometime in the middle of the night.  A familiar blonde girl, followed by a dark-haired boy, blond boy, and a girl with jet-black hair strolled in and stood in the lunch line.  Honey smiled as she watched them order their lunches and pay with their tickets.

All of them will have such normal lives, Honey thought.  Everyone but the future Lady Madeleine Grace Hart VI, Duchess of Kent.


Author’s Notes:

This is my submission for the Fright Night challenge issued by our resident Trixie Psycho, EricTheHun in conjunction with Jellybaby and Mountainhawk.  Thank you, Eric, for all your help and inspiration...and a few nights on the old IM holping me through this monster.

Trixie Belden® is property of Random House Publishing Company and no permission was granted to use her or the other Bob-Whites.

Honey’s family history is explained somewhat in “Mystery of the Queen’s Necklace”.  Her family line goes back to William Shakespeare, but that is only one line.  J  I decided to create another family line for her that would take her back to royalty.

Information found about King George IV is found at http://www.royal.gov.uk/output/Page114.asp

A Picture of King George IV is found at http://www.uh.edu/engines/romanticism/georgeiv.jpg

Information about rotten boroughs can be found at http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/PRrotten.htm

The use of Buckingham Palace was unauthorized, and no I didn’t really put a hole in the wall.  I also have never been inside Buckingham Palace, nor do I even know what it looks like on the inside, so all descriptions are from my own imagination.

Artistic License Alert!!!  I really don’t have any idea if Britain will allow an American born citizen to hold a royal office.  I figured, hey, if it worked for King Ralph (Starring John Goodman), then it should work for Honey.  Right?  *g*

Queen Elizabeth II owns Welsh Corgis.  Information about Welsh Corgis (“Kor-gees” with the hard “g” sound) can be found at http://www.akc.org/breeds/recbreeds/pembrok.cfm

Fright Night Challenge elements:
A line from the movie Ghostbusters. – “Is this a trick question?”   “you know what it could be?  Past life experience intruding on present time.”    “Where do these stairs go? – They go up.”    “Ben [Ray], I think they [he] can hear you.”
Mention of one of the following things: ESP, Astral Projection, Clairvoyance, Telepathy, Telekinesis, Possession, Ectoplasm, the Ethereal plane, or Exorcism.
A spooked animal. – The Queen’s Welsh Corgis.
A séance.  Honey is talking out loud trying to figure things out and feels like someone’s listening to her and is standing there in the room with her.
A medium. Or if you want, a rare or well done. We know how much the Bob-Whites like to barbecue.   The lunch Honey and Ben have in the library.
Some use of pitch black or complete darkness.  – In the corridor.
A ghost/haunting/manifestation scaring someone at a very awkward moment – Madeleine appearing to Honey as she’s undressing.
Blue Oyster Cult - In The Presence of Another World

Token “Airplane” quote:  “Surely you can’t be serious. – I am serious, and don’t call me Shirley.”

“By George, she has it” is a play on the phrase “By George, she’s got it” from the song “The Rain In Spain” from the musical “My Fair Lady” starring Rex Harrison and Audrey Hepburn.

“The Shining” is a book by Stephen King, which was made into a movie starring Shelley Duvall and Jack Nicholson.  I recommend seeing it for a good, freaky movie!  :)

Songs used (Without permission, of course):

“In the Presence of Another World” – Blue Oyster Cult
“Blackened” – Metallica