Authors: C. J. Archer
Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Mystery, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Paranormal Romance, #Historical Romance, #Gothic, #teen, #Young Adult, #Ghosts, #Spirits, #Victorian, #New adult
"About Price?" George asked. "Have they been
threatening him?"
"They have been killing him!"
"You mean he was the one who delivered the
curse to the Otherworld?"
"That explains why he looked so ill," said
George.
Mrs. Stanley pressed her gloved fingers to
her nose. Her eyes filled with tears. "I had the devil of a time
trying to convince them he was not well enough to do it again. That
is when Blunt decided to deliver the curse himself. There was no
one else. I would not do it. They threatened me, tried to give me
money, but I refused."
"That's very brave of you."
She glanced back to the door, then up at the
ceiling, and finally at each of us. Her dark stare was bold,
direct. "Not brave. I fear destroying the Otherworld more than I
fear them. They may not care what happens to their souls after
death, but I do. We Romany respect death and the spirit world. To
destroy it is to destroy the life you will have beyond this
one."
"Yes, I see." It made sense. I knew little
about the gypsy culture, but if they were the guardians of such
powerful paranormal curses, then it was logical that they would
respect the supernatural. "Is that why you've come to us?"
"Yes. I do not want to be next to die. I do
not want to be forced to help them. You have delayed the
Otherworld's destruction, Miss Chambers, but not stopped it. You
must deliver the counter curse before she finds another victim. The
next time will be the third time the curse will be delivered."
"The third and final time," I murmured.
"Yes. This curse requires the power of three
to work. How does it fare up there?"
"The Waiting Area is all but destroyed. Many
spirits have been lost, the rest are fading away. I fear you're
right, Mrs. Stanley. One more time will see the complete
destruction of the Waiting Area and...and Jacob." I swallowed a
sob. Now was not the time for hysterics or even melancholy. I
needed to be strong and have my wits about me.
Mrs. Stanley pressed her hand over her mouth
and uttered something in Romany. "That is very shocking to
hear."
"We must have Mrs. White—Mrs.
Seymour—arrested before she can find another victim to deliver the
curse," I said. "She could easily pay a street urchin to do
it."
"The curse is complicated, the language
ancient and difficult for a non-Romany, particularly for an
illiterate child. She tried a street boy once, but he could not get
it right and died in the attempt."
"Oh my god! The poor boy."
"Terrible." George shook his head. "So what
do you think she'll do next?"
"She will find someone else," Mrs. Stanley
said. "A healthy adult who can be trained to speak the Romany
words."
George lifted an eyebrow at me. "That could
take time."
"That's not something I want to wager on," I
said.
"Then we'll send the police to the Grosvenor
Street house to arrest her for the murder of Beaufort."
"Not yet," Mrs. Stanley said quickly. "First
she must send Miss Chambers to the Otherworld to deliver the
counter curse."
"I say! I don't think Emily should do
it."
Yet I had to. I knew it. Besides, I wanted to
see what the Otherworld was like for myself. My entire life, I'd
heard about it, thought about it, and curiosity had gnawed at me.
"I'll do it," I said.
Mrs. Stanley nodded. "I think it is for the
best. You are part of that world already with your special gift.
Your presence there will be powerful, and that can only help."
"I don't like it," George hedged.
"You don't have to like it," I said. "I'm
doing it regardless. But I don't trust Mrs. White. If what Mrs.
Stanley says is true—"
"It is," she said with a flare of her
nostrils.
"
If
what Mrs. Stanley says is true,"
I said again, "then Mrs. White cannot be trusted to bring me back.
We could go to a hospital and ask them to..."
Kill me
.
"I do not think a doctor will put you to your
death."
"She's right," George said. "Don't worry, Em,
we'll all be there. Your sister too, if you want her. We will force
Mrs. White to keep you alive."
I sat for a moment, not yet believing what
I'd agreed to do. Could I trust Mrs. Stanley? I felt a little mad
for going along with her scheme. Actually, more than a little,
particularly since I was rather looking forward to it. To see the
Otherworld, to see Jacob again...I couldn't deny that it sent a
little thrill through me.
"Until we are ready, Mrs. Seymour should be
left alone," Mrs. Stanley said. "If we startle her, she will leave
London and we will face delays as we try to find another to perform
the death and resurrection."
"Agreed," George said.
"Mrs. Stanley," I asked, "where is your
tribe?"
"My people will be south of Codicote in
Hertfordshire at this time of year. Why?"
"Because you don't have the counter curse, do
you? You must not, otherwise you would have had Price deliver it on
his last visit to the Otherworld. He could have tricked Mrs. White
and delivered the counter curse instead of the one she gave
him."
She pressed her hand to her nose once more
and I expected to see tears pool, but none did. Her eyes were two
black orbs that held my gaze steadily. "Of course I do not have
it."
"How long will it take you to reach your
people's camp?" I asked.
"I can leave today and be back late
tomorrow."
"Only if you rode very fast. I can lend you
my carriage," George said.
"Mr. Culvert, my people are excellent
horsemen and women. We can ride bareback at speed for twenty days
and twenty nights if necessary."
"I'll take that as your refusal of my offer,"
he muttered.
"Late tomorrow," I said. "That will have to
be soon enough."
"We have the ball tomorrow night," George
said. "You cannot miss that, Em. It's the event of the
century!"
"This is more important. Mrs. Stanley, if you
haven't arrived here by the time I must leave for the ball, come
fetch me at Lord and Lady Preston's Belgrave Square house upon your
return. We'll go to Mrs. White's place of work together and force
her to inject me. We'll trick her into thinking I'll be delivering
the curse."
"Trick her how?" George asked. "She's no
fool."
"I will tell her that you
are going to deliver the curse," Mrs. Stanley said. "She doesn't
know I have told you everything and will believe me. I will tell
her that
you
think you are delivering the counter curse and that is why
you have agreed to do it, otherwise she will be
suspicious."
I nodded. So did George, reluctantly. "I
still don't like it," he said.
Mrs. Stanley was eager to get on her way to
fetch the counter curse from her people and did not stay for tea as
politeness dictated.
"Should we trust her?" George asked after
she'd left.
It was the same question I'd been asking
myself ever since she walked in. "We don't have a choice."
"Yes, we do." He pushed his glasses up his
nose and gave me a somewhat smug smile. "I can go independently to
her tribe. If she shows up, then we know she's telling the truth.
If she doesn't—"
"Then we'll know she lied and never intended
to get the counter curse." I didn't tell him that by the time he
discovered which side Mrs. Stanley's loyalties lay, it might be too
late.
CHAPTER 10
"Don't go alone," I said to George. "Take
Theo and Louis."
"Your father?"
"He's a brave man and looks strong. You may
need him."
"I'm beginning to think you doubt my
abilities when it comes to taking care of myself."
"George." I squared up to him. "You are a
gentle man, and you are about to confront a clan of gypsies. I do
not think even the three of you will be quite safe, but there's
nothing for it but to go."
"You may be right." He removed his coat from
the hook near the front door and brushed the sleeve with a flick of
his fingers.
I pecked him on the cheek. "Good luck, and be
careful."
"Don't worry. I'll have my pistols."
I didn't tell him that two pistols would
hardly protect him from a clan of gypsies if they decided they
didn't like him. "Just a thought, but it may be better to let my
father do the talking. Your manner can be somewhat aloof at times
and Theo doesn't seem to like them at all."
He tugged the brim of his hat down. "Emily,
you worry too much. Trust me. I know how to handle a group of
ruffians."
Oh dear. If my father didn't take charge, the
task was doomed.
George left and I quickly grew restless.
There was little to do at home except watch Celia adjust the hem on
my gown and play cards with Cara. It rained briefly, but once it
cleared I decided to walk to Grosvenor Street and see if Mrs. White
was still at number twelve.
The brisk stroll in the cool air worked
wonders on my frustration and I arrived at Grosvenor Square very
quickly. I watched number twelve for a short time but there was no
sign of Mrs. White. Since the sky threatened rain once more, it was
doubtful if she would take her charges out—if she did indeed still
work there—so I decided to visit her instead.
Well, not
her
exactly. I
questioned a maid leaving via the servants' stairs. She said Mrs.
White had suddenly resigned her position as governess that
afternoon, leaving the mistress a note and not even saying goodbye
to her charges or the other staff. Apparently everyone in the
household was shocked by her decision.
I was not. Mrs. White must be worried that we
would send the police to her door or, worse, Lord Preston.
Hopefully Mrs. Stanley knew where to find her or our plan would
come to naught. We needed Mrs. White to think I was delivering the
curse so that she would not try to find anyone else in the
meantime.
It began to rain so I huddled under my
umbrella as I headed back to Druids Way. Lucy had a welcoming cup
of warm chocolate waiting for me. I sipped it in the cozy private
parlor as Celia worked on the hem of my gown and Cara dozed by the
fireplace. It was terribly difficult not to wonder how George,
Theo, and Louis fared as night fell. How far had they traveled?
Where would they stay overnight? Was my father a good horseman and
what did he think of their strange task? I didn't like thinking of
the three of them confronting an unpredictable gypsy tribe, but it
was better to do that than let my mind wonder to Jacob.
I felt sick to my stomach whenever I recalled
how he looked the last few times I'd seen him. It was like watching
a pair of butterfly wings slowly disintegrate in the sun. Soon he
would be nothing. Not even a spirit. My heart clenched like a fist
and punched into my ribs. I may never see him again, neither in
this realm nor in the Otherworld. If Mrs. White succeeded, we would
never be together.
Eternity without the man I loved was a bleak
and miserable prospect.
I set down my chocolate cup because my
shaking hands could no longer hold it steady.
"At least we have something pleasant to look
forward to," Celia said, studying her handiwork.
I stared at her, trying to think through the
mire of dark thoughts clogging my mind. But I could not. All I
wanted to do was curl up into a ball and make Jacob better through
sheer willpower.
When I didn't answer, Celia looked up. She
frowned but said nothing. "All this business with the spirits,
Louis' return, and now the cancelations...we deserve an enjoyable
evening."
"Yes, of course," I said, not really
listening.
"How many dances has Theo reserved with
you?"
"How many...? You mean the ball?" I shrugged.
"I don't recall. None, I think."
Celia dropped her hands to her lap and
regarded me. "What do you mean? He must have reserved some dances.
He's very taken with you. It's as clear as the nose on my
face."
I rubbed my forehead. "Perhaps he has. I
don't remember."
"Emily." I could tell from the tone of her
voice that I was about to receive a lecture. Ordinarily I would
make excuses and leave, but I no longer cared. Let her say whatever
was on her mind. What did it matter anymore? "Emily, do not let him
think you are in love with another."
"I'm not. I mean, I'm not giving him that
impression." At least, I didn't think so. I sighed. "I'm sure we'll
dance together tomorrow night."
"You
are
looking forward to the ball, are
you not?"
"Of course. I just wish there were not so
many other burdens to be endured. It colors the experience
somewhat."
"I know, Em, I know. But
you
will
resolve
this as you've resolved the other situations. I have the utmost
faith in you, my girl." Her quiet, determined voice compelled me to
look at her. Tears shone in her eyes but she was smiling a little.
It was not a smile I could decipher. "Emily, if he declares himself
at the ball, what will you say?"
"Declares himself! Oh...I...do you think he
will?"
"I think it likely. Please, do not throw away
this opportunity. Emily...being settled to a good man is not an
easy thing to achieve. There are not too many to be had,
unfortunately." She looked down at her fingers, still clutching the
needle and the hem of my gown. "Take my situation, for example. I
had three men court me. If I'd known then what I know now, I would
have accepted one."
"Do not think like that, Celia. They were
good men, but you didn't love any of them. Mama knew it, as did I."
I moved to sit beside her and covered her hand with my own. She did
not look up but her lashes were damp even though her cheeks were
dry. "Celia, a lifetime is a long time to be with someone you don't
love."