Evermore (12 page)

"You've mentioned Price before," Theo said.
"Is he the paranormal expert?"

"Yes, and now the Grand Master of the Society
For Supernatural Activity," George said. "He's very
knowledgeable."

"He has helped us in the past," I said.
"Albeit reluctantly. He is not the nicest of men."

George snorted. "He's got the manners of a
sewer rat. Ah, yes, this is his street."

The coach slowed then pulled to a stop a few
houses down from Price's. George poked his head out the window.
After a few moments, he pulled it back in. "Price's landlady has
just let Blunt inside."

"I wonder why Price has come here and not to
a den," I said. "He should be desperate for his opium now. Do you
think he's getting it from Price?"

"You may be right," George said.

Theo nodded. "He must be. What a strange
arrangement."

"A shocking arrangement," I muttered. "I
wonder how long it has been going on."

"Price must be gaining something from it,"
George said, "but what?"

"Money." Theo's jaw set hard and the word
sounded like it was ground between clenched teeth before being spat
out. "Why does anyone do anything of a shocking nature?"

I looked to George, but he didn't seem to
notice Theo's bitter tirade.

"Let's not condemn Price yet," George said.
"We don't know for certain if that's why Blunt has come here. There
could be all sorts of other reasons. It could even be a simple
social call."

"Oh, George, don't be so naïve," I said.
"Price may be the Grand Master of your society, but that doesn't
mean he's innocent. For all we know, he may be behind
everything."

"Emily! Price may be a little...difficult at
times, but he's never abused his paranormal knowledge before."

"That we know of."

"And he did help us find the culprits who
released the shape-shifting demon."

"He led us to Finch, who indeed was
controlling it, but there was someone else involved too. I am
certain of it."

"Blunt."

I shook my head. "I've never been entirely
convinced of Blunt's guilt. He was terrified when Jacob haunted him
at the school. You'd think a man who knew all about shape-shifting
demons would be more comfortable with the supernatural."

"As I recall, Beaufort had a knife. A
knife-wielding spirit would terrify anyone."

"Blunt was afraid of being haunted from the
start," I said. "Even before Jacob threatened him with the
knife."

George sniffed. "Blunt was the villain then
and I am certain he's the villain now too. He must be. Look at him.
Any man in the grip of opium must have a guilty conscience to
suppress."

"Any man controlled by opium is too weak of
mind to be behind the summoning of Mortlock and now this curse.
Price has proven to us on many occasion that he is very strong
willed."

"It cannot be Price," George said. "He
doesn't have children and his name is not Seymour."

"The same can be said of Blunt, yet you
consider him the villain."

George said nothing to that, probably because
whatever argument he used would also throw suspicion on Price.
Instead, he opened the coach door.

"Let's go and see what they're up to, shall
we?"

Theo caught his arm. "I don't think that's a
good idea. We don't want to alert them to our suspicions."

George sat back with a sigh and shut the door
again. "We need Jacob."

They both looked to me. "He's terribly
unwell," I said, then I realized how absurd it was for a spirit to
be described as ill. "I don't want to summon him. I think we should
wait a little longer."

"What if they're putting a curse on the
Otherworld right at this moment?" George said. "We should go
in."

"You're right." Another curse might spell the
end for both Jacob and the Waiting Area. "Let's go."

"It will serve to eliminate Price, if nothing
else."

Theo shook his head and stayed me with a hand
to my arm. "I don't think Blunt would be in any state right now to
enter the Otherworld, or assist Price to."

"I give you that point," George said, sitting
back down. "Once he takes the opium, he'll be useless for a
while."

So we waited. And waited. George's stomach
growled every minute, without fail. It was mid-afternoon and we'd
not had luncheon.

"My apologies," he said after each
gurgle.

I rubbed my temples where a dull ache had
taken up residence, tapping against my skull. "Perhaps we should
go. Nothing is happening here."

Jacob appeared on the seat beside George but
I could see right through him. He slumped forward, resting his
elbows on his knees, and looked up at me through tired, flat
eyes.

"Jacob." I stifled a sob. "Oh, Jacob."

George and Theo followed my gaze.

Jacob held up a hand as if to assure me he
was fine, but it was unconvincing considering the look of him.
"You're right," he said, his voice thin. "Nothing will happen here
now."

"You've been inside?"

He nodded. "Briefly. Blunt is lying dazed on
Price's sofa. He's an opium addict."

"We know. We found a small amount on his
person. What about Price? What was he doing?"

"Reading the newspaper near the
fireplace."

"So he supplied Blunt with the opium." I
relayed the details of Jacob's account to Theo and George.

George blew out a breath. "I suppose you're
right. I cannot believe it. Leviticus Price, an opium
supplier."

"Emily, I have to...go." Jacob faded away and
I thought that was it, he'd gone, but he returned, albeit
faintly.

My heart jumped into my throat. I wanted to
hold him, but that wasn't possible with an audience and he looked
much too ethereal to grasp anyway. "Go if you must. Rest."

He weakened again, only to flare up, as if
he'd used some energy he'd kept in reserve. "There's...I need
to...you..." His words faded in and out with his body.

"You need to tell me something?"

He nodded. "Mrs. White..."

"Yes, you said Seymour earlier. Is she
related to Frederick in some way?"

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I
found...type."

"You found a type? Type of what?"

With a frustrated click of his tongue, he
became as solid as he used to be. "Daguerreotype."

"You found a daguerreotype in her room?"

He nodded. "It was of Mrs. White and a young
man. I recognized him."

My knees bumped his. I had not known I was
leaning forward. Theo and George leaned forward too even though
they could not hear Jacob.

"Frederick," I said on a whisper. "It was
Frederick in the picture, wasn’t it?"

"The one I fought," Jacob said with a nod. He
began to fade again at an alarming rate.

"Do you think they are related?"

"Yes. It...family portrait."

I pressed my hand to my mouth. It was too
strange, too amazing. Just as I was about to ask more questions,
Jacob disappeared. He did not come back.

"What is it?" George asked.

"Emily, are you all right?" Theo frowned at
me. "You look quite pale."

"Mrs. White," I blurted out. I told them
about the daguerreotype in her room. "To have a portrait of just
her and Frederick, that must mean they are, or were, very
close."

"His mother?" George said. "Surely not."

"What do we know of her?" Theo asked.

"Very little," I said. "Your cousin, Wallace,
told us Frederick lived with his father. Wallace assumed the mother
had died until one day Frederick told him she was very much alive.
He never did find out what happened to her."

"So Mrs. White is cursing the Otherworld?"
George stuck his head out of the window and called instructions to
return to the Grosvenor Street house.

"It is certainly looking that way." The coach
moved off. I thought George was about to say "I told you it wasn't
Price," but he caught my glare and shut his mouth.

"What will we say to her when we see her?"
Theo asked. "We cannot accuse her of being Mrs. Seymour without
proof."

"The daguerreotype will be proof," George
said.

"But we cannot enter her room if she refuses
to let us in."

"Theo's right," I said. "But I think there's
another way. George, tell your driver to divert to my house."

George banged on the roof of the coach then
shouted the order out the window. "Don't keep us in suspense, Em,"
he said when he sat back in the seat. "What have you in mind?"

"Do you recall how the shape-shifting demon
escaped?"

"Your sister accidentally released it."

Theo laughed then quickly
apologized. "But it does sound rather ridiculous. How does
one
accidentally
release a demon?"

I told him of the peddler woman who'd come to
our house and convinced Celia to purchase a rather interesting
amulet to use as a prop at our séances. When I'd summoned the
spirit at our next event, she'd used the amulet in what she'd
assumed was a harmless manner and the demon had emerged through the
open portal.

"I see," Theo said. "If the person cursing
the Otherworld is the same as the one who released the demon and
Mortlock, then the peddler is our prime suspect."

"And my sister might recognize her."

"Which is why you need her to see Mrs.
White," George finished.

"Didn't she meet Mrs. White when she worked
at the school?" Theo asked.

"No, she only dealt with Blunt."

"Brilliant move, Emily," George said. "You're
exceedingly clever for a woman." He knew he'd said something wrong
as soon as it was out of his mouth. I didn't even need to glare at
him, although I did anyway. "I, uh, my apologies. That's not what I
meant."

"It most certainly is what you meant," I
said.

Theo snorted a laugh.

"I don't see the funny side," I snapped at
him.

"No?" Theo nodded at George. "Just look at
his face. Any moment now he'll get down on his knees and beg
forgiveness."

George did look terribly upset so I stopped
glaring.

"I am sorry and you must believe me when I
say I didn't mean it to sound the way it did. You and Adelaide are
the cleverest females I've met. She could match wits with the most
learned of paranormal scholars. She's very easy to teach, takes
everything in. I admire her greatly."

"So I see," I said dryly.
Listening to him back-pedal made me think of Jacob. Now
he
would never have
slighted the whole of womankind.

Theo nudged me with his
elbow. "Never mind. I still admire
you
greatly." His eyes twinkled
mischievously. "Shall I list all your virtues to make you feel
better?"

"We haven't enough time for that. The ride
home is only ten minutes."

He chuckled. "I do admire you though, Emily.
You are a most remarkable woman."

"And you are much too kind."

"I wouldn't say that." The twinkle vanished,
but he continued to watch me from beneath his long lashes. It was
most unnerving. I couldn't begin to guess what was meant by his
unexpected intensity. His earlier humor was gone, and the adoration
with it, which was rather peculiar, not to mention disappointing.
He seemed...disturbed by something.

I chatted incessantly all the way home to
distract myself. By the time we arrived in Druids Way, I couldn't
recall what I'd said. Something about Adelaide's ball.

It wasn't as easy to convince Celia to come
with us as I thought it would be. She refused to leave until we'd
all had a quick bite to eat.

"You haven't eaten all day," she said,
setting down the letter she was reading on the table beside the
sofa. She rose and pulled the bell cord to summon Lucy. "Think of
the men. They cannot be expected to work on an empty stomach."

I looked up at the ceiling in the hope of
finding some patience there. "Celia, forget about food, this is
important."

"It can wait." Lucy arrived and Celia gave
orders to serve cold meat, bread and cheese in the dining room.
"And take something out for the driver and footmen too."

"Celia! We must go!"

"Actually, Em," George said, "I'm exceedingly
hungry."

"We'll eat quickly," Theo assured me.

"And the horses could do with a rest," George
went on. "I'll have the driver give them some feed while they
wait."

He left, as did Celia to help Lucy. I sat on
the sofa and picked up the letter my sister had been reading. My
stomach sank as I read.

"Something wrong?" Theo asked, sitting next
to me, his hat in his hands.

"Another cancelation."

"Ah."

"You and George were right. My reputation is
in tatters and our business on the brink of ruin." I had never
liked conducting the séances, but I'd never actually thought a time
would come when we didn't do them. It was all rather sudden and not
quite real.

His fingers edged around the brim of his hat.
"I'm sorry, Emily. I'm truly sorry." He looked at the hat, not at
me.

"Thank you, but
you
don't need to
apologize. It's not your fault."

"No, of course not." He looked up at me and
his blond hair flopped over his eyes. He seemed much older all of a
sudden, and very serious. "I just don't like seeing you in
difficulty."

"It's no difficulty. Celia will have some
money saved. She always does."

"What do I always do?" she asked, coming back
into the drawing room.

"Have money saved." I indicated the letter.
"Another cancelation, I see."

She nodded, grim. "That's the sixth I've
received today."

"Sixth!" Good lord. So many. "You do have
money set aside, don't you, Celia?" If she didn't, the letter could
have just thrust us into what Theo politely labeled 'difficulty.'
It was more like poverty. We could not hope to support ourselves
without a steady income.