Heaven Bound (A Blakemore Family Book: Madame Lou Series Book 2) (26 page)

Simon James looked down at the piece of paper in his hand then up at the sign painted on the shop at number fifteen Tottenham Court Road. He tried to peer in the window but the reflection from the late afternoon sun hampered him. Lord Suffolk had approached him at their club and suggested a visit to Madame Lou would be a great favor to him. Although why such an important earl would ask such a thing, Simon couldn’t even begin to fathom. But Lord Suffolk was one of the major stockholders in a firm that that he was quite interested in doing business with. Sighing with resignation, the American tycoon straightened his shoulders and pushed open Madame Lou’s door, sending bells jingling. The shop appeared to be empty, but once Simon’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed a young lad standing near a back doorway.

“You the Mr. James that’s come to speak to Madame Lou?” he asked.

“Yes, Lord Suffolk sent me. But how did you know that?” Simon replied, moving toward the boy.

“Just have yourself a seat anywhere you like and I’ll go fetch her and some tea while you wait.” The boy dashed off through the door, disappearing before Simon could ask any questions. Looking around, he decided on a table that was somewhat hidden from the front windows; no point in having anyone he knew see him consulting with a spiritualist, no matter that they were all the rage these days.

The lad brought out a pot of tea, promising the lady would be forthcoming shortly. After waiting for at least ten minutes, Simon finally pulled out his pocket watch to decide how much longer he was going to wait for the woman to show up. Although he had great respect for Lord Suffolk, he did not see the point of wasting his time in this questionable establishment. But just as he was about to get up and walk out, Madame Lou swept into the front room in a shimmering, jingling show of dramatic movements as impressive as anything he’d seen on the stage.

“Mr. James, I’ve been expecting you,” she said, sweeping out a ringed hand to pull out her chair and sit across from him. “Now, let’s get right to business, shall we? You don’t strike me as a man who wants to waste time on a silly show. Am I correct?”

Simon blustered for a minute before he smiled and answered. “I suppose you are right, Madame. But this doesn’t mean that I believe you have read my mind.”

“Oh, that is not my talent, I assure you, Mr. James,” she said, pouring a cup of the still-hot tea and stirring in sugar and lemon. “My skill lies in communicating with the dearly-departed, which is why I requested that Lord Suffolk might advise you to visit me.”

“Yes, yes, I do recall the séance at the Earl of Abingdon’s party and a reference to my beloved wife,” Simon said, peering through the veils covering the medium’s face. “But as I recall, it was just gibberish with no real meaning at all. Besides, even if you had said something more significant, how would I know it wasn’t just some parlor trick? How could you possibly prove your claims?”

“I don’t need to, Mr. James; you will do that yourself. Now, please try to sit still for a moment while I call on your wife to attend to us.” The woman pulled out a velvet bag from beneath her layers of silk and spangles. She opened it wide and emptied the contents onto the red silk-covered surface of the table, right next to her half-full teacup. A handful of different sorts of stones and crystals scattered and she gathered them into one hand, rearranging them in a circular pattern. She then started mumbling strange words and swaying back and forth in her chair, finally stopping after a few moments and suddenly grasping Simon’s hand in hers.

“Mrs. James is present.”

Simon moved uncomfortably in his chair. Was this woman really in contact with his Maggie? It didn’t seem possible.

“You wife wants you to know something very important—no—no, I’m wrong; she wants you to remember something. Something that you knew a long time ago—something you both knew and forgot. It was before you had so much wealth. Before you could buy anything your hearts desired. Before you ruled an empire.”

“I’m afraid you will have to be more specific, Lady Lou; I knew quite a lot of things before I became the man you see before you today.”

“It’s Madame Lou, Mr. James, and your Magpie is certain that you will find the answer in the letters.”

Simon started when the psychic called Maggie by his pet name for her. But then he reasoned she could easily have guessed that.

“Do you know what letters you wife speaks of? She is quite insistent that you must read those early letters and you will find the message she is urgently trying to make sure you receive. Mrs. James went to quite a lot of trouble to bring you to me, don’t you agree?” Madame Lou finally released Simon’s hand. “I’m afraid she’s gone now, but I believe you have enough information to be able to grant her some peace finally.”

“That’s all?” Mr. James asked frowning at the woman who Lord Suffolk claimed was the most sought-after spiritualist in all of London. “It doesn’t seem like much of a fortune- telling.”

“Really, Mr. James, what do you take me for? Some sort of carnival gypsy?” It was obvious Simon had inadvertently insulted the woman. “You have what you need. Now go find the letters that Mrs. James wants you to read, and discover what message your wife is giving you from the grave. Please do hurry, before it’s too late.”

“Of course, of course!” Simon said, finally feeling some urgency around this mission he’d been sent on. “How much do I owe you?” he asked, pulling out his pocketbook.

“Lord Suffolk and I have struck our own deal in exchange for your presence today. There is no obligation to you other than to fulfil the spirit’s demands,” Madame Lou said, then stood. Her gown swirled around her as she turned and left through the back passage.

Simon sat there quietly contemplating what he had heard. The only letters his Maggie would ever refer to were the ones he took with him whenever he traveled. They were tucked away in one of his trunks in a hidden compartment, tied in a blue ribbon the same color as his wife and daughter’s eyes. When they were young, poor, and madly in love, Simon and Margaret James had been parted on many occasions. Those were the times long ago when Simon had to travel to earn enough money just to make ends meet; and later, when he was just starting to build his empire and would travel to make business deals and do favors for men in high places in order to garner the same. They had written each other as often as they could and whenever mail delivery was possible. Simon had treasured those letters above anything else, even more than the riches they’d acquired, and the evidence of their love and devotion were contained therein. He hadn’t read them in years, worried they might make him miss his beloved wife even more than he already did. So, whether or not the Lady Lou was actually on the level, he supposed it was high time he got around to facing his fears.

“You ready to go then, sir?” There was that boy again, obviously shooing him out of the shop.

“Yes, thank you for the tea.” Simon flipped the boy a guinea, even though he knew it was far too much money for a mere cup of tea. He somehow felt that he had to part with some amount of blunt for the service the medium had performed. Whether it was really a message from his wife or just a stranger pointing out that he should find some closure, it had been worth a small fortune to Mr. James.

He left Fifteen Tottenham Court Road whistling a tune. His chauffeur opened the door to the Daimler and drove them back to the house in Grosvenor Square. Simon had a footman bring the trunk from the attic and leave it in the library. He opened it and, pressing his fingers to the side of one of the cubbies, released a lever and swung a piece of thin wood to the side. Hidden inside was the stack of about thirty letters written by his darling Maggie. Simon pulled them out, walked over to the liquor cart, poured himself a scotch, and then went to find a quiet comfortable corner to read in.

It was the letter she had to written to him the day she had discovered she was pregnant. He’d been in Jamaica looking at investing in a sugar plantation when he received it. He had just decided that he did not have a taste for the sort of operation that relied on what basically amounted to slave labor in order to operate, when he had received his wife’s communication.

Simon reread the letter and then stopped in amazement when he got to the passage he now knew Madame Lou had meant for him to see and finally understand that this was what Maggie was trying to tell him.

...I don’t know how I know this baby is going to be a girl— I just know. It’s like the same feeling that I have in my very bones that you are going to be as rich as the Astors someday. And when that happens, dearest Simon, and our daughter is ready to marry, I want you to remind me of how much I love you and that I would eat off of a dirt floor or a gold-etched plate as long as it was with you, my one and only love. Because what I fear most, my dearest, is that I will become like one of them and ask our child to sacrifice her heart for a man she does not know or love just so that her parents can say they are related to royalty. I shudder when I think of that poor Vanderbilt girl and how she could not find happiness even married to a duke and even with enough money to buy Sweden, or so they say. I’m so thankful for you and our love and now we have a child to share our joy with....

Simon was weeping when he finished reading, finally understanding what the psychic was trying to communicate to this stubborn old man. Love was all that mattered, and forcing his beautiful amazing child to marry for any other reason was as cruel as sentencing her to a life in a gilded cage. Collecting himself, Simon finished his scotch quickly for a shot of courage. He needed to make amends and the sooner the better. He rang for the butler, Mr. Phillips.

“Sir?” Mr. Phillips asked. Mr. James was surprised by how quickly the man had appeared.

“Were you here the whole time?” Simon asked curiously.

“Of course, Mr. James; I am always at your convenience,” Mr. Phillips said, looking as if he had no idea what Simon was inferring.

“Hmm, well, I need to make a telephone call. Do you mind if I attempt it in your quarters instead of the front hall? It’s a rather delicate matter and I’d appreciate the privacy, being what it is.” Simon was referring to the fact that realistically, when one used the telephone system, all of London could listen in if they so desired.

“Of course, sir,” Mr. Phillips said, bowing and holding out his arm. “This way, if you please.”

Simon preceded the butler until they reached the green baize door, then stood back to allow Mr. Phillips to lead him through the servants’ domain.

Upon reaching the butler’s quarters, Mr. James sat at the desk where the telephone sat and allowed Mr. Phillips to work with the operators to connect him to Basildon Park. The phone rang probably twenty times before someone finally picked up.

“The Earl of Abingdon’s residence, this is Mr. Jeffries speaking. Whom may I ask is calling?”

The connection crackled and buzzed as Simon spoke into the cone-shaped mouthpiece. “Good evening, this is Simon James calling for Adeline James. Is she still in residence?” There was a long pause before the response came.

“Good evening, Mr. James. Miss James is dining with Mr. Jackson this evening. Would you like me to fetch her for you?”

“Yes, please do. It is quite urgent that I speak with my daughter as soon as possible.”

“Please wait, sir, while I fetch Miss James.”

Minutes passed that felt like hours until finally Simon heard Adeline’s precious voice.

“Papa? What is it? What’s wrong? Are you alright? I can leave first thing in the morning.”

“I’m fine, dearest Addie. No need to worry,” Simon answered, gathering his courage in order to admit to his child that he was wrong. “I want you to stay as long as you’d like. Forever, if that is your choice. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

The silence stretched on so long that at first Simon feared he’d lost the connection and was about to engage the operator to try the line again. But then he finally heard something on the other end of the line, Adeline was crying.

“Addie? Oh, child, don’t cry. Come home to me if you want.” Simon hated it when his women were sad.

“Oh, Father, they are tears of joy. Do you really mean it? Why? I don’t understand. What about Mother?”

Mr. James told Addie about the letter then and explained that it had been so many years ago that they’d forgotten all their promises. But somehow, Madame Lou had helped him to remember. “I need to take care of some business here in town, but in a week or so, I’ll come up to Berkshire and then you and I can discuss what we’ll do next. I leave all the decisions to you, Adeline.”

“Thank you, Papa. I love you.” Adeline said and Simon could hear it in her voice that she really meant those words. Nothing meant more to him.

“I love you, too, sweet Addie.” Putting the earpiece back into its cradle, Simon sat for a moment in the butler’s quiet room. Taking a deep breath as he struggled to keep his own tears from falling, he finally rose and exited the room where his valet, the butler, housekeeper, chauffer, cook, all of the footmen and maids, and even a few grooms were standing about, grinning at him. “What’s all this then?” he asked, feeling much like the main attraction at a circus.

“Nothing sir,” Mr. Phillips said. “It’s just that we had all been so worried about Miss James having to wed one of those awful gentlemen. And now, well, now, we all just wanted you to know what a pleasure it is to work for a man of your honor, sir.”