Evermore (10 page)

George fished out a handkerchief from his
jacket pocket and handed it to her. She thanked him and dabbed at
her eyes.

"You were very brave, Mrs. White," he said
gently, his earlier curtness gone. "Very brave indeed. Not everyone
who is confronted with the worst of the supernatural cope as well
as you did that night."

I wasn't so convinced she was entirely
telling the truth, not after the lie I knew she'd already told.
"How is your sister, Mrs. White? That is where you went immediately
upon leaving the school, isn't it?"

She sniffed and pressed George's handkerchief
to her nose. "I don't have a sister," she said. "That's what I told
the servants, so they wouldn't worry about me. A single woman with
no family to care for her is a somewhat pathetic figure and I
didn't want anyone's pity."

I could not fault her on that. I felt
terrible for doubting her honesty. "Yes, of course," I muttered and
gave her a sympathetic smile. "I'm so glad you're set up nicely
here. This is a lovely house. Are the family kind?"

"Very. Thank you for your concern, Miss
Chambers. Now, you said you needed to ask me something. Please
don't think I'm rushing your visit, but I do need to return to the
girls. They're quite the little troublemakers when they're left
alone too long."

"Of course," George said. "We hoped you could
tell us where to find Mr. Blunt."

"Blunt? But I thought you were pleased to be
rid of him. Indeed, we all were." She closed her eyes and
shuddered. Her reaction made me wonder if she'd had unwelcome
visits from him in the night too.

"Oh, we were," I said. "The man was horrible
in every sense of the word."

"Which is actually why we need to find him,"
George said. At Mrs. White's frown, he added, "Something else is
happening and we wonder if he might be involved."

"What do you mean 'something else'?" When
George didn't answer, she said, "You can tell me. I know what
happened that night at the school, remember. You can trust me not
to succumb to hysterics."

"We know you wouldn't," I said. Yet I didn't
want to tell her everything. She had not proved to me that she was
entirely comfortable discussing the supernatural. So I gave her the
shortened version. "There is a problem in the Otherworld that is
stopping ghosts from crossing over. Does that make sense to
you?"

"In a way." Her frown deepened. "You think
Mr. Blunt is doing something to cause this problem?"

"It's merely a thought since he was involved
in the demon's release. We think the two events may be
connected."

"Of course. As a matter of fact, I do know
where he is now."

"Excellent."

"He's gone to another school here in
London."

"London! But we told him to leave the city
altogether."

"He did," she said. "Very briefly. He found
me upon his return only a week ago. He wanted an account of that
last night at the school. I think he thought he was a little mad,
and needed to be reassured of what he'd seen."

"What did you tell him?"

She shrugged. "I told him I saw flying
objects too. I mentioned the ghost and your involvement as a
medium...all of it. He seemed a little afraid at first, but then I
think he was happy to hear a witness account that matched his
own."

"He probably decided that seeing ghosts was
preferable to being mad," I said.

"So where is he now?" George asked.

"He's been appointed head master of the Royal
Masonic Institution for Boys. It's a charity school funded by the
Freemasons to educate the sons of their poorer members."

Sons only. Thank goodness. Blunt couldn't be
trusted around girls.

"It's located in Wood Green on Lordship
Lane." Her hand-twisting became more rapid. "Please don't mention
that I told you where to find him."

"Of course," George said, soothing. "We
wouldn't think of putting you in such an awkward position."

Her smile was one of relief.

"Thank you," I said. "You've been very
helpful and it was good to see you. Lucy sends her regards. She was
quite pleased to discover your whereabouts."

"Lucy? Oh, your maid. Yes, of course. How is
she?"

"As cheerful as ever. She has even come to
accept my work, in her own way."

"I'm pleased to hear it. She was a good
girl."

We thanked her and left the house through the
servants' entrance. "Success!" George said as we strolled to the
carriage.

I looked back to the house and bit my lip.
Something was troubling me, but I couldn't put my finger on what.
Mrs. White had seemed perfectly lovely and had explained her lie
about going to her sister. Perhaps it was her twisting fingers, or
perhaps it was the fact that she'd not asked me how Lucy fared
first.

I shook off my doubts. We'd got what we came
for—an address for Blunt.

George gave the driver instructions to drive
to the northern suburb of Wood Green then settled himself on the
seat opposite me. "I wonder how Beaufort fared."

I looked out the window at number twelve
again. The governess's room would be on one of the upper floors
where the nursery, schoolroom, and children's rooms were located.
There was no sign of him.

The coach rolled off. I was just about to ask
George for his opinion on how best to confront Blunt when Jacob
appeared. Indeed, 'appeared' may be too strong a word. He faded in
and out and then disappeared altogether again.

"Jacob!" I called. "Jacob,
are you there?"
Oh God, no. Please come
back to me.
I pulled the window down and
stuck my head out in the hope he'd navigated to somewhere nearby,
but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Perhaps you shouldn't summon him," George
said gently. "He may need to conserve energy."

I stared out the window and concentrated on
stilling my rapidly beating heart. It didn't work.

Just as the carriage turned
a corner, Jacob materialized beside me, albeit weakly. "You're
here!" I said and threw my arms around him. It was like embracing a
fog—his skin felt moist and no longer solid. My arms didn't go all
the way through him like they would if I wasn't a medium, but he
didn't feel altogether
there
.

"What's happening?" I asked, pulling away. I
cupped his cheek and he turned to kiss my palm. "Jacob, answer
me!"

He shook his head. "Can't." His voice was a
rasping whisper. "Can't...stay." He disappeared completely, only to
come back and utter, "Seymour." And then he was gone.

"Jacob! Jacob!" I turned to George and he
caught both my trembling hands in his. "What if he doesn't come
back? What if he...?" I swallowed the lump in my throat. "What if
he's...?"

"Don't think that way, Em. He'll be fine.
He's strong, remember? Perhaps he only needs to rest awhile."

I bit back tears. "We have to stop them.
Whoever is doing this...they must be stopped."

He nodded. "Perhaps Blunt will provide an
answer."

I doubted Blunt would simply 'provide' us
with anything. We might need to use force and I wasn't sure George
was the right man for the job.

"Do you think we could collect Theo?"

"Of course." He pulled the window down, held
onto his hat, and called out new directions to the driver. "Let's
hope Hyde is at home," he said, pulling the window up again.

"Jacob said 'Seymour' just now. Do you think
he found a connection to Frederick Seymour in Mrs. White's
room?"

"An interesting thought."

"But what possible connection could there be?
She has no family. Perhaps he traveled elsewhere during his absence
and found something." Whatever it was would have to wait until
Jacob could visit us again.

If he were able.

"Don't worry, Emily," George said. "He'll
return soon. The man can't leave you alone."

I appreciated his attempt to bolster my mood
and said so. "You're a good friend, George. The best."

"As are you. You'd be an even better friend
if you could say some nice things about me to Miss Beaufort." He
looked out the window and waved his hand in dismissal. "Only if the
right moment arises, that is. Don't trouble yourself
otherwise."

"It would be no trouble, but I have a feeling
she already knows what you're like anyway." I suddenly wanted to
embrace him. Since that would be awkward beyond endurance, I simply
sat in silence as we made our way to the Arbuthnots' house in
Kensington.

***

Mr. Blunt kept us waiting in the visitors'
drawing room of the Royal Masonic Institution for Boys for much
longer than politeness allowed. We'd given the servant Theo's name
rather than mine or George's so that he wouldn't have us thrown
out, yet after twenty minutes, I was beginning to think Blunt
wasn't going to appear at all.

"Perhaps he saw our approach through a window
and has decided to avoid us," George said.

"Then why not send the footman in to tell us
he's not here?" I asked.

"Perhaps he's in the middle of teaching a
class," Theo said.

We agreed to wait a little longer. Another
ten minutes passed. George spent the time pacing the room, his
hands behind his back and looking every bit the impatient
gentleman. It was lucky the drawing room was generously
proportioned so he could stretch his lanky legs properly. It wasn't
at all like the Clerkenwell school where Blunt had previously
worked. The furniture was much more solid and modern although there
was little of it. Just a sofa, four chairs, a small desk and three
round occasional tables. A lovely Oriental rug covered most of the
floor, its red tones providing the otherwise masculine room with
some feminine color. The enormous white marble fireplace took up a
great deal of wall space and would throw out a lot of heat if it
were lit.

"Are you all right, Emily?" Theo asked
quietly. "I know there's much on your mind lately but you seem
particularly distracted today."

"I'm sorry. I'm worried about this situation
in the Waiting Area. If the culprit continues his campaign, all
those spirits will be obliterated. It not only affects current
spirits but future ones too."

"It is bad," he said gloomily.

Bad didn't even begin to explain the enormity
of our problem. "I've always known there was somewhere to go after
I die. Now if Jacob's killer is allowed to succeed there will be
nothing."

"The ultimate death," he muttered,
nodding.

"Precisely. The fate which awaits us is very
final indeed."

"It's not a certainty, Emily. Don't give up."
He took my hand and his big, strong fingers were a comfort. Two
weeks ago when we'd first met, his hands had been covered with
calluses from his work on his family's Shropshire farm, but now
they were covered in ink stains.

When we'd collected him from his aunt's
house, I'd been surprised that he was home. I'd expected to be told
he was attending lectures, but he'd bounded down the stairs to join
us and hustled us back into George's waiting carriage. When I
questioned him about his presence, he said the lecturer was ill and
lessons had been canceled for the day.

"There's something more though, isn't there?"
He massaged my hand, his thumb tracing circles around each of my
knuckles. "I mean, I know you're worried about the future for all
ghosts, but...there's one in particular, isn't there? One whom you
care about above all others."

"I...I don't know what you mean."

His gentle gray gaze met mine. I looked away.
"Yes, you do. It's all right, Emily. I'd rather know than not. You
cannot help your feelings for him. By all accounts, he's an
enigmatic fellow. At least, he was in life. Only you can know what
he's like in death."

I sat there feeling stupid, my tongue thick
in my mouth. I didn't know what to say. He was right, of course. I
had very strong feelings for Jacob. Yet I liked Theo too and didn't
want him thinking I was leading him astray when my heart was
engaged elsewhere.

"Jacob is dead, Theo," I said levelly. "We
have no future together." It was something Celia reminded me about
almost every day in one way or another. She would be proud to hear
me say it aloud, particularly to Theo. Yet I felt sick to my
stomach.

"Not until you—" He cleared his throat. "You
know what I mean."

Not until you die.
It was a thought forever at the back of my mind,
and not one I was willing to bring closer to the front. Yet it was
always present, dogging every one of my actions and dreams. It was
hard to plan for the future without wondering when it would come to
an end so I could join Jacob.

Ice-cold fingers dug through my skin to my
bones. For the first time since I'd considered the dark thought of
joining Jacob, I wondered what I'd do if the curse succeeded and he
became nothing. Would I want to wait a lifetime knowing I wouldn't
meet him again in the Otherworld? Or would I rather be with him
sooner and become nothing together?

"Besides, I have many more things on my plate
than the Waiting Area problem." I tried to sound sunny when all I
felt was immeasurable gloom through to my core.

"Oh? Like your father's return? That is
definitely something cheerful."

"And there's Adelaide's ball," I added.

"Oh yes!" said George from the other side of
the room. I hadn't realized he'd been listening. Perhaps he only
had heightened hearing when Adelaide's name received a mention. "I,
for one, cannot wait. You'll be there, won't you, Hyde?"

Theo nodded. "My cousin Wallace and I are
both invited. Since he proclaims not to enjoy dancing, I suspect
he'll spend most of the evening standing at the refreshments
table."

"And gossiping," George said. "By all
accounts, he knows everyone."

Everyone, including Frederick Seymour and
Jacob Beaufort when they were alive. The reminder put a dampener on
our cheery banter and plunged us once more into melancholy.