Gene of Isis (3 page)

‘Let us make haste then.’ Father turned toward the doors of the downstairs sitting room which led to the foyer, to find Nanny Beat standing in the doorway. ‘Yes, you may come,’ he replied before she’d even asked the question. ‘I wish to speak with you en route.’

Nanny burst into tears, she was so grateful. ‘Oh, thank you, my lord and god bless—’

‘No time for tears, woman.’ He put his arm around her, which he rarely did to anyone in public. ‘Lady Cavandish assures me that all shall be well, so let us waste no tears.’

Nanny nodded and gathered her wits.

‘My coach is out front,’ Lord Cavandish offered, ‘but what of the Lady Suffolk?’ He wondered whether my mother should be notified of the events taking place.

Father shook his head. ‘This whole affair has left Mrs Granville ailing. Better that she sleep and awaken when it is all set right.’

I lay in a dingy little room, unconscious or delirious from the effects of the doctor’s medication, for days. Thankfully, during my periods of semi-consciousness since arriving at the asylum, I hadn’t sighted Dr Rosen—I hadn’t really sighted anybody! The memory of that rotting, smelly man licking my face made my stomach turn and up came the little food
I’d eaten. The medication, apart from its tranquillising effect, gave me cramps and made me very weak and unable to follow a train of thought.

I continuted reciting the names of Dr Rosen’s young victims as loud as my parched throat would allow, as this exercise served to keep my mind active. I couldn’t see the ghostly children, but I still heard them repeating their names, one by one, in a continuous round, which I echoed aloud.

Keep heart, Miss Granville, help is coming.

Although my sights were blurry and my wits dulled, the face of Damian Cavandish was perfectly clear to my inner perception.

I’ve arranged everything,
he said.

The dark evidence of Damian’s guilt in early life had vanished. The gent was no longer a ghost, but a brilliant celestial being, whose appearance contained all that he might have been in life.

You look like an angel,
I thought, too weak to speak.

Damian smiled, most pleased by his transformation.
All thanks to you, Miss Granville, I am free of my self-induced limbo…the matter of your future welfare is all that binds me to this earth.

I felt a warm hand take hold of my own and, with a gentle tug, I was aided to rise to a seated position. I knew something impossible was happening: I’d been heavily sedated and yet I felt so light. Light enough to just float out of my body.

What is happening?
I panicked as I realised I
was
floating apart from my body.
Am I dying?

Just sleeping,
assured the late Damian Cavandish.
And when you awake, all of your sweetest dreams will be answered…even the ones you haven’t conceived of yet.

The weakness and pain ebbed as I left it behind me on the bed—apart from peace and contentment I felt nothing at all. I was floating beside the celestial gent, clutching his hand tightly as I observed my body in slumber. I
don’t look at all well,
I decided—my form appeared to be so small and frail.

The door to my room unlocked and opened. Dr Rosen entered, accompanied by his usual entourage of ghosts, and two young, witless men who carried a stretcher. ‘Sorry to have neglected you, my dear.’ The doctor motioned his lads toward me. ‘Take Miss Granville to my surgery…time for her long-overdue examination.’

The malign delight in the doctor’s voice taunted me, and I was drawn back toward my ailing body.
For all my talents, I am defenceless like this!

Do not fear.
Damian clutched the hand of my light-body tightly, aiding my consciousness to remain at liberty from my form.
You have abilities beyond anything that you can imagine and, even though you are yet to master these, they can be utilised by other disembodied entities when you, as now, vacate your earthly vessel.

We won’t let him harm you,
assured the eldest ghostly boy among the doctor’s victims,
nor anyone, ever again.

Damian’s assurances, and those of the children, kept me calm as my body was transported through the asylum, up a winding staircase to a tower, where I was strapped to a table.

Help me,
I appealed to my allies.

Not yet,
one of the children advised. Best
that your body is safely strapped down before we deal with His Blackness.

It
will all be over soon,
a girl assured me with a smile, as Dr Rosen dismissed his help and I was left all alone with the man.

‘You’re not going to sleep all the way through my consultation are you, Miss Granville?’ The doctor finished cranking the table to an upright position and slapped me around the face a few times. ‘This really would be far more enjoyable if you were awake.’

All shall be well,
the ghostly children said as they took flight toward my body and vanished into it. As the last of them entered my form, my eyes parted wide.

The doctor turned back from selecting a large pair of scissors to find me conscious and was delighted. ‘Ah, Miss Granville—’

‘No!’ A multiplicity of children’s voices issued from my mouth and began to chant the same round of names I had been mumbling for days.

Shocked witless only for a moment, the doctor then raised the scissors he held, hoping to silence the rising din with a stab wound to my heart.

A short, sharp burst of energy shot forth from my restrained body. The force of the charge knocked the doctor to the floor as my hair flew out around my head.

‘You are possessed!’ Horrified, Rosen scrambled to his feet, but before he could make for the tower door an unseen force took hold of him and guided him to the desk. The doctor took up a pen and began to draw a map, which took some time to complete. ‘What is this?’ he cried. On another piece of paper he scribbled a few words that distressed him even more. ‘No! Don’t kill me. I shall die soon enough!’ The force controlling the doctor slowly
swirled into a powerful whirlwind that set Rosen spinning—faster and faster.

As surgical instruments began to vibrate around the surgery, beginning to be sucked into the whirlwind, Damian decided it was time for us to depart the tower.
You have visitors,
he informed me as we passed through the tower door.

I
do?
The news raised my spirits, but it did not abate my concern.
They’re going to kill him, aren’t they?
In my heart I could feel the hatred and fear emanating from all sides.
It is not the right resolution. Until his dis-ease is corrected, death will not make him repent.

My
death brought about my repentance,
Damian pointed out as we descended the stairs. I
had to find a way out of my torment and so will he. You shall be of far more benefit to this world, Miss Granville, and so it was right that you were spared from this man.
Do
not question why the Almighty saw fit for you to render this service to those unhappy ghosts today, but know that your soul is as free of blame as it ever was.

I was delighted to encounter my father, Nanny Beat, Lord Cavandish, and a noble lady, on the stairway, trying to force their way past an asylum guard.

Who is the lady with my father?
I pointed to the unfamiliar woman, for her light-body was more beautiful and developed than any other person I’d ever encountered.

That is my aunt, the Dowager Countess Cavandish,
my guide was pleased to impart.
She is one of the most acclaimed psychics in Europe and your future tutor.

Really?
I forgot my woes, overjoyed by the prospect of meeting another psychic, let alone being tutored by one.

‘You can’t go up to the doctor’s surgery unannounced.’ The guard spread his arms wide to block the stairway.

‘Does Dr Rosen have something to hide?’ the stately Dowager Countess queried.

‘Surgery is sometimes a bloody business and no place for
ladies.’
The large guard leered down at them, and his vantage point on the stairs made him seem more imposing.

‘There had better not be any blood,’ threatened my father. ‘That’s my daughter Rosen has up there.’

The men again tried to push their way past the guard, without success.

‘Have it your way.’ Father punched the huge fellow in the jaw. A punch to the stomach and another to the back of his head sent the guard flying.

‘Good show, Granville,’ Lord Cavandish commented, protecting the ladies as the guard fell down the stairs. ‘Your boxing days at Oxford weren’t entirely wasted.’

‘Pardon the spectacle.’ Father made haste to the tower and entered.

By the time the rest of the party reached the tower door, my father had returned to the doorway to block it. ‘Ladies, I would advise you to go no further.’

Nanny Beat gasped, fit for tears. ‘Mistress Ashlee?’

‘I’ll let you know.’ My father’s even tone cautioned her to be calm.

Lord Cavandish followed my father inside, as did the Dowager Countess Cavandish, whereby my father felt he must insist.

‘My dear woman—’

‘Whatever is in there, Lord Granville, I can assure you I have seen infinitely worse,’ the Dowager Countess said briskly. ‘I believe my line of work makes me more qualified to deal with the macabre than either of you two gentlemen.’

‘My aunt has a valid point,’ said Lord Cavandish, supporting his aunt’s plea, even as he looked over his shoulder at the dead man lying on the floor with all manner of surgical instruments extruding from his body. ‘Kings and dukes have consulted Aunt Charlotte on many delicate matters. It might be advisable to do the same in this instance.’

My father relented, opening the door only wide enough for the Dowager Countess to enter and then closed it behind them, leaving Nanny Beat to pace in the dim stairwell.

What has happened?
I very much wanted to hug my poor Nanny and reassure her.

All is well,
advised my celestial guardian.
You’ll see.

I awoke to see many worried faces lighten in relief; even my father seemed pleased to see me. He asked me how I was feeling. Did I remember anything?

‘I remember being taken to Dr Rosen’s tower,’ I replied, rather more unshaken than everyone had expected. My father seemed broken by this news.

‘Can you tell us what happened after that, Miss Granville?’ A new face was looming over the top of those of my father, Nanny Beat and Lord Cavandish.

‘This is Constable Forester,’ my father explained. ‘He is here to investigate what took place in Dr Rosen’s surgery this afternoon.’

The constable’s presence was most comforting to me and to the troubled spirits still hovering
close by, waiting for an end to their plight; here was someone willing and able to investigate this tragedy.

I related to the constable how I had been taken to the tower and strapped to a table—just as if I’d been conscious the entire time. ‘Dr Rosen had been threatening to give me a
private
consultation, ever since we met.’

‘And did he examine you?’ the constable asked.

‘No.’ My reply brought much joy to my gathered friends. ‘The news of his imminent death had Dr Rosen preoccupied. He was consumed with fear for his eternal soul.’ I did as I’d been taught was best—I lied. It was surprising how easily the fabrication fell out of my mouth, almost as if it had been scripted and rehearsed. ‘The doctor said that he had an unnatural obsession with children and that he had murdered any of his patients who resisted his advances.’

My audience gasped and their faces became pale and shocked again, but not the constable.

‘Do you have any proof to substantiate these grave allegations?’

‘Indeed.’ The ghostly children had left a psychic memory, an impression in my mind, to let me know where the evidence lay. ‘Dr Rosen left a map of the asylum graveyard.’

The young constable held up a piece of paper upon which there were drawn many squares, some crossed through and some not.

I nodded. ‘The Xs mark where Dr Rosen’s victims lie. You’ll find all of them have a broken neck. Check the medical records, for that was not their reported cause of death.’

‘What happened after the doctor confessed to you?’ The constable was having trouble digesting my
explanation. How to avoid the evident conclusion that the doctor had butchered himself in a fit of madness?

‘Dr Rosen made me take some medication and I fell asleep,’ I concluded neatly.

The constable thought over my words.

‘Well, thank you for your assistance, Miss Granville.’ He scratched his cheek as he considered the nightmarish investigation he was facing and how it might best be avoided. ‘Lord Suffolk, if I could have a word with you outside.’ My father agreed and followed Forester into the corridor.

I had been placed in one of the asylum’s private rooms, which was much more presentable than the one I’d spent the past few days in.

‘I was so worried, Mistress.’ Nanny finally got to express her relief at my good health, and caressed my hand affectionately.

‘How did you get papa to come?’ As Nanny was the only one who cared if I lived or died, I assumed it must have been her prompting that brought my father to my rescue, though I couldn’t imagine how.

‘Not I.’ Nanny motioned to Lord Cavandish, who was standing close by.

I smiled as the Earl of Derby came forward and bowed graciously to me, then knelt at my bedside and took my hand in his.

‘My dear Miss Granville. I am completely in your debt for the lives of my family and the future of my peerage. After rescuing my family, I returned to Suffolk to thank you in person, only to discover that you had been punished for your actions on my behalf. Upon realising his error, your father agreed to accompany me at once to see to your release.’

My smile broadened as I noticed the heaviness had lifted from the earl’s heart. ‘You also have your brother to thank for your deliverance, my lord, for it was only his persistent desire to make amends that has removed the knife from your heart.’

‘It is true,’ he conceded. ‘However, my brother had a great deal of help from you. And I fully intend to reward you.’ The earl stood. ‘May I introduce my aunt, the Dowager Countess Cavandish.’