Ether & Elephants (2 page)

“I did.” Nell looked down at her hands, which were so brown compared to other English girls’, a heritage from her unknown natural father. “She said Charlie had been collected by his aunt and was no longer a student at Glenbury. The thing is, Papa, Charlie doesn’t
have
an aunt. Nor living parents, not that he knows of. He was found alone in a squalid flat, told his mother was dead, then dropped on the school’s doorstep by a neighbor as a child of four.”

“Being abandoned isn’t the same thing as having no family,” Tom said. “We both know that. It’s possible the aunt just discovered his existence somehow.” Tom’s parents had both died when he was an infant, and he’d learned at sixteen that he was legitimate.

Nell’s case was a bit different. She’d known her biological mother, but her father could have been any one of her mother’s many customers. Fanny Jenkins had been a dockside streetwalker, and wasn’t too fussy to accept coin from foreign sailors. According to Fanny’s memories, which were sketchy at best, the man who’d sired Nell was likely from India or thereabouts. He could be alive somewhere in the world and Nell would never know, not even if she ran into him on the street.

“Nonetheless,” she said. “Our own histories aside, I don’t believe that’s the case here. Charlie was taken in a hurry, and against his will. Even if this woman is a relative, I don’t believe she means to do well by him.”

“What makes you say that?” Merrick lifted an eyebrow. “Perhaps she simply couldn’t afford the school fees, so she took him home. Or she wanted time to get to know him.”

Nell shook her head. “No. Charlie left me a message. He asked for help. But Mrs. Chisholm, the headmistress, is new here. She doesn’t believe me.”

“What kind of message?” Tom asked, his eyes running over the titles in Mrs. Chisholm’s bookshelf. Three years after breaking Nell’s heart, he still couldn’t look her in the eye. “A note? Perhaps in some sort of arcane musical code that the old witch couldn’t comprehend?”

“A note, yes.” She tried to keep her eyes focused on her father instead of Tom, though they kept straying anyway. “But nothing so complicated as a code. Are you familiar with Braille writing?”

Both men nodded.

She handed Merrick a scrap of paper from the pocket of her gray woolen gown. Raised ink showed a musical staff, but instead of notes, dots had been pressed into the paper between the lines, with the tip of a pencil. Two patterns of dots repeated themselves over and over. Across one bit of staff, the boy—or someone—had spelled out “Miss H,” followed by a repeating sequence.

“Mrs. Chisholm hasn’t bothered to learn it yet. We do teach them to write letters, so others can read things,” Nell said. “But that Braille letter is an
S
—”

“And the other is an O.” Merrick handed the scrap to Tom. “Your thoughts?”

Tom studied it, then closed his eyes and rested one finger on the writing.

Nell studied his hands. It had been years since she’d held one of those hands in hers, yet she couldn’t forget the gentleness of his touch when they’d danced, nor the ferocity of his kiss. Damn him for being so ridiculously attractive, and damn her for not being able to ignore it.

“There’s distress,” he said. “Obviously, given the message. Duress of some kind. For any more than that, you’d need Lord Drood.” The Marquess of Drood, a descendent of Merlin, was the Order of the Round Table’s most powerful wizard, although Tom had some gift for the craft as well.

Merrick’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think we need to call in Rhys when Nell has given us the most likely explanation. When, last night, was the boy taken?”

“Just after bedtime, so all the children were shut in their rooms and most of the teachers were back in theirs, grading papers or preparing today’s lessons. I didn’t know he was missing until this morning when he missed his piano lesson. Music means the world to Charlie. He’s talented enough to make a career of it, despite his disability. He wouldn’t skip our lesson by choice. When I went to his room, I found Lord Michael there, fretting over that note, which was stuck to the inside of a drawer with a bit of taffy. Charlie was careful to hide his message.”

“The students have individual rooms?” Tom snorted. “This must be a luxury school.”

“No.” Nell had no experience with boarding school as a student, but she knew Tom had found the transition from street rat to schoolboy a difficult one. “The big rooms house four, the smaller rooms usually two. Charlie and one other boy share what used to be a dressing room. His roommate, however, is in the infirmary with the measles, so for the moment, Charlie was alone. The older boys in the adjacent room were supposedly asleep, but more likely playing cards, and claim not to have heard anything.”

“Have you no idea why this woman might have taken him, aunt or no?” Merrick studied Nell’s face.

She gazed back unblinkingly. “Actually I do. Charlie is gifted, beyond his ability with music.
Our
kind of gifted.”

Merrick lifted an eyebrow and even Tom straightened and turned toward Nell.

She drew in a deep breath. “He finds things. If a teacher loses her favorite pen, he can tell her where it is, almost unerringly. He told me where the former porter hid his gin bottles. It’s not always clear-cut, because of his blindness. He doesn’t
see
things in his mind, he sort of
feels
them. He can’t say, for instance, it’s in a yellow room under a striped chair. But he might say it’s near a window or under a piano, since those are tangible objects, while colors and designs are strictly visual. He also has a sense of direction and can tell if the object is to the right or left, above or below him. All he needs is to touch someone who has a connection to the object. The closer the connection, the easier it is for him. And the stronger the desire, the better his power works.”

“So for instance, if he held your hand, he could lead you to anything you’d misplaced, say, a favorite pen or a piece of sheet music?” Merrick said.

Nell tipped her head back and forth. “Sort of. The sheet music, if it wasn’t a favorite piece, would take him a bit. But if, say, I lost one of the earrings you gave me for my debut, his power would respond to the strength of the urgency I would feel.”

Tom stifled a sigh. He wanted to dismiss Nell’s concern as nothing but nonsense so he could get the hell out of here, but unfortunately he couldn’t. Like him, she’d grown up in a world full of supernatural abilities, and despite her soft heart she was no fool. If she said the boy was gifted he probably was, and that made his disappearance the business of the Order.

“What could the ghost tell you about the woman who took the boy?” He tried not to snap, but it was always a challenge talking to Nell. Just being in the same room with her set his teeth on edge.

Merrick shot him a stern glance and Tom dipped his head, acknowledging that his reaction to Nell was bad form. It was so damn difficult to pretend he wasn’t still in love with her.

“She was taller than average, fair and heavily cloaked.” Nell’s drab gray day dress turned her dusky skin sallow. Even with a white lace collar and cuffs, she could pass for an upper servant, nothing like she’d looked at home. Nell loved color and sumptuous fabrics, but apparently she’d left all her satins and velvet behind when she’d come here.

“Nothing more. The headmistress saw her but refused to say anything. She’d probably speak to one of you two, as officers of the crown, not to mention titled ones. She’s a bit of a snob.” Her full lips curled up into a grin that didn’t reach her huge, dark eyes.

“I gathered that when she so
graciously
invited us to use her private parlor.” Merrick lifted an eyebrow again, studying Nell as if looking for bumps and bruises. “Has she given you trouble?”

Tom bit his lip to repress a smile. Woe to the poor woman if she’d been giving Merrick’s darling daughter grief for being less than lily-white pure English. Merrick may have come to fatherhood late, but he was as protective of all of them as any child could ask for, including Tom himself. Despite Tom being a Devere, Merrick was the only father he’d ever known. Suddenly, the day showed promise. Watching Merrick dismember the woman—if only verbally—would do Tom’s mood a world of good.

“I’m fine, Papa,” Nell said. “I can handle a snooty employer. She treats me no better nor worse than the other teachers. It’s Charlie I’m worried about.”

Nell’s left eye twitched the tiniest bit when she lied. Lead settled in Tom’s stomach. Maybe he could dismember the woman himself.

“Let’s invite the headmistress in,” Merrick said. “I’ll stay long enough to chat with her, but then I have to catch the train back to London. Tom will stay to sort everything out. Right, son?”

“Um, of course, sir.” Tom tried to gulp back his surprise. Merrick was leaving him?
Him,
here with Nell? Had Merrick lost his reason? Avoiding Tom was why she’d come all the way to Cornwall, why she worked when she didn’t have to. It was all his fault she wasn’t home, surrounded by her loving family. Mostly, it was his fault she wasn’t married with a family of her own by now. Nonetheless, Merrick was Tom’s superior officer, as well as his foster father. There wasn’t any way Tom could say no.

“Good.” Merrick rubbed his hands together. “Now, let’s have a chat with your Mrs. Chisholm.”

Tom flicked his finger, releasing the small spell that had kept their voices from traveling beyond the walls of the room. Party tricks, that’s all he was good for in this kind of situation. Despite the popular belief that magick was all-powerful, he couldn’t always do much. Still, his little tricks had proven useful on occasion, even if he was more confident with a pistol or sword in his hand.

Merrick trod heavily on the wooden floor as he crossed to the door, giving the headmistress plenty of time to scurry back to her desk. “Please, Mrs. Chisholm. May we join you a moment?”

The stern-eyed, hawk-nosed woman, one cheek rosy from where it had probably pressed against the door, gestured toward some chairs. Her hair, blond shot with silver, was pulled back so tightly her skin was taut across her cheeks. “What can I do for you, my lord?” She ducked her head in a parody of a curtsy, even though she was seated.

Merrick took a seat in front of the stark wooden desk and patted the chair beside him for Nell. Tom took up a position beside the door to the hallway, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall and scowled, playing bully boy to Merrick’s fond papa.

“First, I’d like to thank you for taking good care of my girl,” Merrick said with a proud glance at Nell. “She’s her mother’s darling, but she was determined to do some good work before she settled down. She tells us she’s happy here at Glenbury. Perhaps you’re in need of another patroness? Lady Northland positively adores sitting on charity boards.”

Tom kept his face rigid and was impressed that Nell didn’t even blink at that outright whopper. Caroline
hated
that sort of noblesse oblige.

“Oh, of course, my lord.” Mrs. Chisholm swallowed hard. Clearly she’d assumed Nell was cast off from her noble family, not beloved and indulged. The old bat wouldn’t be the first to assume Nell was Merrick’s natural daughter, not wanted by his gently born wife and forced to earn her own keep. Chisholm’s lips pursed as if she’d been eating tainted pickles. “We’re so pleased to have Miss Hadrian here. The students are fond of her, of course.”

“Of course.” Merrick reached over and tugged one of the ebony curls that had come loose from Nell’s prim bun. “Children always adore her. She has plenty of practice, with six younger siblings.”

The woman’s eyes widened as she mouthed the word
six
, looking ready to reach for her vinaigrette.

“Yes, an uncanny knack with the little ones, has our Nell.” Merrick turned his eyes directly on Mrs. Chisholm. “Her instincts are unerring. So why don’t we talk about this boy who has her so worried?”

“It’s nothing,” Mrs. Chisholm said with a wave of her hand. “Just a child taken home by his relations. It does happen you know. Even these blind urchins occasionally have some usefulness to their family and are called back.”

Nell’s spine stiffened and Tom braced for the explosion.

Nell didn’t disappoint. She leaned forward and gripped the headmistress’s desk. “They’re not urchins, they’re children
.
Blindness has nothing to do with it. Charlie is a brilliant,
brilliant
musician and a wonderful boy. He doesn’t have any relatives, and even if he did, they’d leave him here, where he can finish his education. He’s not even nine years old and he’s on track for a remarkable career in music. Do not speak as if he were some worthless scrap tossed up on the seashore.
Who took him
?”

The last words were sung rather than spoken and Tom bit back a grin. Nell was beyond furious if she was pulling out her power. He’d only seen her do that before in cases of life or death. “Eyeball your gob, chuckaboo. No need to batty fang the dizzy haybag.” He whispered the words in the street cant of their youth, knowing Nell’s hearing was nearly as acute as his own or Merrick’s.
Watch your mouth, my friend. No need to beat up the old lady.

“I granny.”
I understand
,
she subvocalized back, even as the power of her song compelled the older woman to answer. “Stubble it, slang cove.”
Shut up, show-off.

“The woman said she was his aunt. She gave me his name, the date he was left here and twenty pounds. I didn’t ask any more questions.” Chisholm blinked even as she said the words, her mouth round in horror. She clapped her hand across her lips.

“Of course you didn’t,” Merrick soothed. “Absolutely right, I’m sure. Now what name did the aunt give you? An address? The boy was a favorite of Nell’s and she’d like to send a note, congratulating him on his new family.”

Having just admitted to an officer of the crown and potential patron that she’d accepted bribery to release a student, the woman seemed inclined to cooperate. She held up a book listing registered students.

“Charles Berrycloth,” Merrick read. “‘Abandoned August 6, 1859 by a woman from a nearby village who said she found him sleeping alone in the flat next door after the mother disappeared. Precise age uncertain, claims to be four years old.’ So he’s nine, now, or close to it.”