Katie Rose (38 page)

Nonsense! she told herself, but something would not let her pass the volume. Reluctantly, she touched the book, feeling the pebbly texture of the worn leather cover. There had been a lock on the outside, but the key was gone and to her surprise, it sprang open by itself. Jennifer idly turned the pages, finding them of good quality and embossed with gold. It appeared to be a book of enchantments, some of them ancient sounding, all of them melodic and charming.

A vision grew in Jennifer’s mind. They could easily add a spell to their work, giving the séance a truly authentic flavor. Immediately, she could see herself reciting one of these chants, then falling under the spirit’s power. The effect, she judged, would be marvelous.

“How much is this?” Jennifer put the book before the woman. Opening her change purse, she frowned as she saw her coins had dwindled drastically. The old women looked up as if annoyed to be disturbed, then shrugged.

“Whatever you want to pay. It is, after all, yours.”

Jennifer stared at the woman curiously, but decided
that, as a business transaction, this was too good to be true. She plunked down the last of her coin, fully expecting the woman to tell her it wasn’t enough. But the old lady simply cackled once more, scooped up the coins into a hand as gnarled as a tree root, then went back to her reading.

Astonished, Jennifer took the book and walked out of the shop. Some things, apparently, were just meant to be.

Outside, nightfall had settled on the city. Jennifer walked through the streets with her book, looking for the carriage, but belatedly realized she was lost. It was like being in a labyrinth, for every street she entered only seemed to take her farther away from anything familiar. Fear crept over her, and she nervously clutched her book, grateful that she’d left everything else safely in the carriage. Rough-looking people huddled in the corners, while a group of workmen gathered over a flaming barrel, warming their hands against the cold. Footsteps sounded behind her and Jennifer gathered her cloak tightly and hurried down the street. She had just reached the corner when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Panicking, she whirled, only to find Gabriel standing behind her.

“Oh, dear God, you scared me!” Her heart thudded wildly and she struggled to catch her breath. Inwardly, she had to admit that she was grateful to see him. Relief flooded through her, even though she could tell he wasn’t at all happy to find her wandering the streets like this.

“What the hell are you doing here? Do you realize where you are? You’re almost in the slums on Baxter. There’s nothing here but drunks and prostitutes, no police—I was on my way back from visiting a customer, otherwise I wouldn’t be here after dark!”

“I was shopping and got lost!” Jennifer cried defensively. She saw him glance down at her odd book, and she hid it behind her back, but her gesture came too late. The intelligence in his blue eyes gleamed in the darkness, and
she knew he had fathomed the reason for her to be in such a location.

“Get into my carriage. I’ll take you home.” He practically carried her into the fine-looking coach waiting at the end of the street. The driver, obviously nervous to be in the neighborhood, displayed his buggy whip as a few street urchins shouted from the gutter. Jennifer saw a huge rat dart past and disappear into the wall of a tavern, while a grizzled-looking man eyed them speculatively from the corner. Shuddering, she gratefully did as Gabriel suggested.

Once inside, she turned to him, ridiculously happy to see him. He looked as elegant and handsome as ever, clad in a dark woolen coat and a top hat that gleamed even in the dim light. He removed the hat immediately, due to her presence, and she wanted to run her fingers through his dark silky hair, and to touch the rugged edge of his jaw, watching it soften into a smile. She did neither. “You don’t have to take me home. My carriage is somewhere near Broadway.”

“Broadway!” Gabriel looked at her as if she were insane. “You’re a good half mile from there. I’d rather see you safely home.”

“But I can’t. You see, I’ve got other purchases in the carriage and I can’t leave them overnight …”

Gabriel’s expression changed to derision and he glanced down at the ancient book beside her. “What else? Witches’ caps? Pentagrams? Broomsticks?”

Jennifer heard the barbed irony in his voice and realized he was furious. Shrinking down into the seat, she shrugged. “A mynah bird, and some other things.”

“I see. You really haven’t learned anything from any of this, have you? You still intend to continue your role as gypsy? Do you have any idea what they’re saying about you?”

“I don’t care!” Jennifer cried. When she saw his expression
turn icy, she sighed. He would never understand. “Gabriel, I have to try even harder now. If I can make this fashionable again, everything will be fine. Do you know Mildred Adams?”

“The matriarch?” Gabriel asked, appearing surprised.

“Yes. She’s an old friend of Aunt Eve’s. She’s coming to stay, and we’re putting on a séance for her. I have a lot of new props, including this book of chants. Don’t you see? We mean to put on the best séance she’s ever witnessed!”

“Yes, I do see,” Gabriel said coldly. As the driver stopped behind her carriage, he helped her down. When she reached the ground, Jennifer looked up, and for a moment, thought she saw pain and regret in his eyes. The look was gone in a moment, replaced by his more familiar disapproving scowl.

“I will follow you home. Jennifer, I want you to be more careful. You are dabbling in something you really don’t understand, and it could be dangerous.”

“Dangerous!” Jennifer laughed. “Gabriel, you’ve seen what we do. There’s nothing frightening about it. My word, next you’ll be telling me to buy gargoyles to ward off evil spirits.”

She tried to lighten the awkward mood between them, but Gabriel’s expression didn’t change. He handed her into her carriage, waiting until she was fully seated before turning away.

“Gabriel!” Jennifer called as he started to walk away. He stopped beneath the streetlight and looked at her expectantly. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He stared at her for a long time, then climbed back into his own carriage. For a frightening moment, Jennifer knew what that look meant: He was memorizing her in detail, almost as if creating an invisible photograph to carry with him. And she knew why.

Gabriel had just said good-bye.

The following morning, Jennifer was thrilled to find that her sisters had caught her mood and were eagerly preparing for the grande dame’s visit. Winifred had rolled up the carpets and hung them outside for a beating, while Penelope washed the linens, complaining good-naturedly about the damage to her hands. Eve had spent the better part of the previous day baking, and now displayed several sumptuous cakes, scones, and tea breads, all designed to make her friend feel welcome.

“Wait until you see what I bought,” Jennifer said, and eagerly unveiled her finds. While her aunt was less enthusiastic, especially since her beloved parrot hated the mynah bird on sight, Winifred and Penelope were enthralled. Penelope immediately found a sharp razor and cut out the eyes of one of the oil paintings, then held it before her face. Everyone laughed, for the image really did seem to follow them eerily around the room.

“Now, for the pièce de résistance.” Jennifer displayed the book like a ringmaster saving the best for last. Penelope put the painting aside and frowned, her nose wrinkling.

“Why, that’s just a dumb old book!”

“It is more than that,” Jennifer explained, flipping
through the pages in fascination. “It contains spells. You know, chants,” she explained to her bewildered sister. “I think it will really add a nice touch to the séance.”

“I see.” Winifred nodded, her smile curving. She stood over Jennifer’s shoulder, looking at the ancient-sounding poems. “Before you contact the spirit world, you’ll recite one of these as if it were a conduit into the other plane. I like it. And some of these chants sound wonderful.”

“Exactly.” Jennifer smiled back. “Now, when will Mrs. Adams arrive?”

“This afternoon,” Eve said, glancing at her letter. “Our carriage will transport her here. I expect her by two at the latest.”

“Are you certain she’ll still come after our jailing?” Penelope asked, worried. “She is, after all, high society.”

“She had some misgivings, but I think I convinced her. We’ll have to make sure her visit is a success, for all concerned,” Aunt Eve said, her wrinkled forehead betraying her worry.

“We’ll just have to make sure she has a good time,” Jennifer said emphatically. “Perhaps, Auntie, you could take her on calls after lunch, giving us time to make up the room. We don’t want to put everything out right away—the element of surprise always helps. We’ll close off the séance room and finish everything, then bring her in at midnight.” She rubbed her hands in anticipation.

Eve looked doubtfully at the assortment of scary props lying around her. “I just hope you girls know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t worry, Auntie.” Jennifer giggled. “If we know anything, we know this. Mildred Adams will leave here convinced she’s seen a ghost. And nothing else we can do will top that.”

The carriage appeared outside just before the lunch hour. All three girls eagerly watched at the window as the door opened, and the driver helped the old woman down
to the street. Penelope squeezed Jennifer’s hand as Mildred Adams stepped royally up the stairs, like Queen Victoria herself, gesturing for the coachman to help with her bags.

Aunt Eve rushed to the door, then paused, smoothing her dress. When it was perfect, she opened the portal slowly. Mildred gave her a brief hug, then entered the room with a spryness her age belied. Placing her bag on the floor, she glanced around the room, her eyes lighting on the girls. She removed her black veil, and her face, which had been described by every New York newspaper at one time or another, appeared exactly as they imagined. She looked like an aged Madonna, graceful and elegant in her features, but her eyes were wonderful. Dark brown and intense, they betrayed a hidden passion and determination that her subdued demeanor would have hidden. She had the stance of someone used to giving orders and being obeyed, which was confirmed as she instructed the coachman on exactly what to do with her bags, then handed her gloves and coat to the bewildered maid. But something in her formidable expression changed when she saw Jennifer, and she stared at the girl in stunned surprise.

“Mildred, I’d like to introduce you to my nieces. This is Winifred, Penelope, and Jennifer. Girls, Mildred Adams.”

They all curtsied, just the way Aunt Eve had instructed. When Jennifer rose, she saw that the old woman still peered at her as if in shock. When Jennifer looked at her aunt questioningly, Mildred coughed to cover her embarrassment, then nodded briskly.

“Yes, yes. I had assumed you were Eve’s nieces. You are all she talks of, you see. I understand you’ve gotten yourself in a nasty mess. No more than you brought upon yourselves, I would think. No respectable young woman of my acquaintance was ever jailed! If it wasn’t for Eve’s insistence, I would have seriously reconsidered my visit. Now I’d like to see my room, and have luncheon ordered
immediately. The dust on the streets is dreadful, and I can still feel it in my lungs.”

Penelope giggled, while Eve hastened to do her friend’s bidding. They could still hear the old woman grumbling upstairs as Eve showed her the guest room. The old woman continued her litany of complaints, and Penelope had to cover her mouth to hide her laughter, while Winifred looked concerned.

“Not a pleasant old person, is she? It’s a good thing we went to extra effort, although I doubt it will be appreciated. I don’t think she approves of anything!”

Winifred’s prediction proved correct. Mildred complained constantly through lunch. The roast beef was undercooked, the potatoes overcooked, the bread not freshly baked. Jennifer got exasperated, but noticed that Eve treated her friend deferentially, not at all insulted by the woman’s manner. Vaguely, she remembered her aunt saying that Mildred had once lost someone she loved, and had never been the same since. Perhaps that, more than awe for her wealth, explained Eve’s patience with the old dowager.

Finishing her own meal, Jennifer glanced up and found that the two women were looking expectantly at her. Eve smiled, indicating the séance room. “I was just telling Mildred how talented you are with your readings and séance work. Would you perhaps perform a reading for her while she is here?”

Jennifer hid a smile. Aunt Eve was a born salesman, and knew exactly how to whet Mildred’s expectation. Frowning as if undecided, Jennifer shrugged. “I suppose. I haven’t done many since … our jailing, but I think I can conjure something.”

Mildred nodded, as if any other answer was unacceptable. “Good. I always take a nap after lunch, then I will go on some calls. There are a few interesting people in this neighborhood still, although not like the old days.”

“Tell us about them!” Penelope cried, eager for gossip. “I want to hear all about your society, and who did what to who!”