“Martha Washington?” she whispered.
“Oh yes, dear,” Mrs. Pembroke said, as if Anna had remarked upon the weather. “It did belong to her once.”
Anna looked from the locket to the case and back again. “How did you come by such a thing?”
For once, Mrs. Pembroke didn’t answer at once. She closed the hidden compartment, set the locket back in the velvet, and brushed her thumb over the edge of the case. Something almost tender softened her face.
“It came into my hands at great cost,” she said at last. “Not to me, mind you. To those who carried it before. A young woman who knew what it was to be held in bondage, and a man who understood that freedom is not a gift to be granted only whenconvenient. It is God-given, and therefore worth every sacrifice required to claim it.”
Anna’s throat tightened.
Mrs. Pembroke touched the velvet lining beneath the place where the chain had rested. “Love overcame, dear. That is the important part. Love, courage, and a stubborn refusal to let wicked men have the final word.”
She slipped her fingers beneath the narrow slit in the lining and drew out a folded piece of thin parchment.
Anna held her breath as Mrs. Pembroke unfolded it.
“This was added by the couple who had the locket before us,” Mrs. Pembroke said.
Anna leaned close enough to read the words.
From my dear husband, Skenandoah, I have learned that all men and women, being created by God and in His image, were created to be free. Abagail Densbury and Oneida scout, Skenandoah, The Deer Fort Stanwix, August 27, 1777
Anna’s eyes stung. “They were married?”
“They were,” Mrs. Pembroke said. “And now their names travel with the locket, tucked away with Mrs. Washington’s letter.”
“There is a letter?”
“Naturally there is a letter. Do you suppose Martha Washington would send a locket into the world without proper instructions?”
Anna almost laughed, but Mrs. Pembroke had already drawn out another folded parchment from beneath the velvet. “Read it,” Mrs. Pembroke said, handing it to her.
Anna took the letter and began to read:
My Dearest Girl,
This locket would not exist but for my beloved. He entreated a trusted friend to fashion it for me, yet it is far more than a common ornament. It was born of love, wrought in silver, and shaped by steadfast devotion.
As you have now discovered, to awaken its wonder one need only place the locket upon her heart, and love shall surely find its way to you, thus fulfilling the locket’s true and intended purpose.
Love, like liberty, thrives when freely bestowed. When the time comes that you no longer have need of its guidance, pass the locket from one hopeful heart to another, that its promise may endure.
May your days be filled with the joy that springs from choosing love above all else.
And never forget that love, freely given, is the truest liberty we may ever know.
Ever yours,
Martha Washington
Anna scarcely dared breathe. She looked at Mrs. Pembroke, dumbfounded. Before she knew it, her employer took the letter from her, folded it neatly, and tucked it back beneath the cream velvet with Abagail and Skenandoah’s note.
Anna blinked a few times as Mrs. Pembroke lifted the locket from the case, closed it, and folded Anna’s hand around it. “You will keep this until tomorrow.”
Anna fought a gasp and stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“I was quite clear, dear. Keep it until tomorrow.”
