Quicksilver (31 page)

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Authors: Amanda Quick

BOOK: Quicksilver
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She contemplated the moonlit night on the other side of the window and thought about what she had seen in the Quicksilver Mirror.
THIRTY-FIVE
 
A
t ten minutes to five in the morning, Virginia sensed the subtle but distinct change in Owen’s energy that told her he had surfaced completely from the depths. His breathing was relaxed, and his pulse was calm and steady. He was still asleep, but now his sleep felt entirely normal.
She released his hand.
“Virginia,” he muttered. He did not open his eyes.
“I’m here,” she said gently. “All is well. Go back to sleep.”
He stirred, turned on his side and did as she instructed.
After a while she let herself out of the room and walked down the hall. She knew that Charlotte was asleep in the bedroom at the far end. She thought she heard Mrs. Crofton in the kitchen.
When she reached the foot of the stairs Matt spoke softly out of the shadows.
“Is Uncle Owen all right, Miss Dean?”
“He’s quite well but still asleep. Where are Tony and Nick?”
“Tony’s watching the back of the house. Uncle Nick is asleep in the parlor. Mrs. Crofton is in the kitchen. She came down a few minutes ago. Said she wanted to get an early start on breakfast because there were so many of us to feed.”
Virginia winced. “It is very decent of her to make breakfast for all of us before she gives notice.”
“She didn’t say anything about handing in her notice. Are you still certain that Uncle Owen will awaken with all of his senses?”
“Quite certain.”
“That is very good news, indeed,” Matt said. “We weren’t looking forward to dealing with him if that turned out not to be the case.”
Matt’s obvious relief made her pause. “I understand your concern about the possible loss of his talent. It would be deeply disturbing for any strong sensitive to wake up and discover that his para-senses were blind. But what do you mean when you say that you weren’t looking forward to dealing with him?”
Nick spoke from the shadowed door of the parlor. “You’ve said enough, Matt.”
“Yes, sir,” Matt said quickly. “Sorry. I keep forgetting that Miss Dean isn’t family yet.”
And that was all she was going to get out of him for now, Virginia realized. She turned toward Nick. “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning,” Nick said. He rubbed his jaw, testing his morning beard. “All is well upstairs, I take it?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Thank you,” Nick said. He lowered his hand and looked at her with an intent expression. “The Sweetwaters owe you. We always pay our debts.”
“This is ridiculous,” she said, losing patience. “No one owes me a thing. For the last time, Mr. Sweetwater would have recovered on his own.”
“Perhaps,” Nick said. “Perhaps not.”
“I give up,” she said. “I’ll see you both at breakfast.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Matt said meekly.
“Right, then,” Nick said. “Breakfast. Sounds like an excellent notion.”
Virginia went down the hall to the kitchen, mentally bracing herself for the next challenge of what was shaping up to be a difficult morning. The smell of hot coffee greeted her. She swept into the room, electing to go for a straightforward approach. There was no longer any point in pretending that hers would ever be a respectable household.
“Good morning, Mrs. Crofton,” she said.
“Good morning, ma’am.” Mrs. Crofton took a large frying pan down off a wall hook and set it on the stove. “Young Matt and Tony have been awake all night and are no doubt famished. I have a hunch the rest of your guests will wake up soon. What with one thing and another, I decided it would be best to plan an early breakfast. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“I think I’ve had enough for a while,” Virginia said. “I drank so much during the night that I doubt that I will sleep for a week.”
“Some peppermint tea, then?”
“That sounds very good, thank you.”
Mrs. Crofton disappeared into the pantry. “Mr. Sweetwater has recovered, I take it?”
“Yes, but he’s still asleep. I expect he’ll be down for breakfast.”
“Very good.” Mrs. Crofton reappeared with a small canister in one hand. She opened the container and ladled the herbal tea into a pot.
Virginia sat down on one of the long benches at the large wooden table. “Mrs. Crofton, I realize that the goings-on in this household, especially of late, are not at all what you are accustomed to.”
“No, ma’am.” Mrs. Crofton picked up the steaming kettle and filled the teapot. “This household is most unusual in a number of ways. Certainly not like any I’ve worked in previously.”
“I know that you have been obliged to tolerate certain activities that you find unseemly and no doubt offensive to your high standards.”
“I admit that I was somewhat unsettled by the notion of working for a psychical practitioner at first.” Mrs. Crofton set the kettle aside and carried the pot to the table. “I was very sure that you were a fraud. But I soon changed my mind.”
“You did?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. Crofton put the teapot on the table and plucked a mug from a rack. She put the mug in front of Virginia. “I know now that you do, indeed, have a true talent. I also know that while some might call it a gift, it is also a burden. I’ve seen how the bad readings affect your nerves. I know that you suffer from poor sleep and nightmares after you’ve read the mirrors and seen things that no decent person should see.”
“Yes, well, as I said, this is not a normal sort of household. I do understand that in the past few days it has become even more bizarre. Last night was no doubt too much for you. Under the circumstances, I cannot blame you if you wish to give notice. Never fear, I will provide you with a good character reference.”
Mrs. Crofton drew herself up proudly. “Are you dismissing me, ma’am?”
“What? Good Lord, no. I just assumed that in view of the odd activities around here of late, you would want to seek a position in a more respectable household.”
“I went into service in a respectable household as a maid of all work at the age of twelve, Miss Dean. In that first post I was obliged to fight off the drunken attentions of the eldest son of the household. The lady of the house discovered us just as the young man was about to rape me. She blamed me and turned me off without a character.”
Virginia frowned. “That was so unfair.”
“It happens all the time. But I was fortunate. I landed on my feet in another respectable household. The husband took no interest in me. He seduced the poor governess instead. Got her pregnant. Needless to say she was let go. We heard later that she drowned herself in the river.”
Virginia sighed. “She was certainly not the first young woman to take that path when she found herself in desperate circumstances.”
“No, she was not. Since that post, I have worked in a number of other
respectable
households. In all but two of them, the husbands kept mistresses on the side. The sons frequented brothels and gaming halls. The women of the house were obsessed with jewelry, fine clothes, parties and their lovers.”
“I see.”
“The last post I held before I came here was with an elderly widow. I thought it was the perfect position. But toward the end she neglected to pay her staff. She was somewhat senile. Her family ignored her. I was the one who sat by her bedside when she died. She did not make provision for any of the servants in her will, and the family turned off all of us without a penny or a character. As a result, by the time I arrived on your doorstep, I was desperate.”
“I understand,” Virginia said. “You did not have a choice when it came to employers. But you do now, don’t you? I’m assuming that the letter that you received from the Billings Agency the other day is an offer of employment in a more refined household.”
“In her note, Mrs. Billings advised me that there was a position available in the household of Lord and Lady Ainsley. Mrs. Billings thought it might suit me.”
“Lord and Lady Ainsley move in the very best circles. It sounds like an excellent position.”
“I sent a note back to Mrs. Billings informing her that I was not interested.”
Virginia put her mug down with enough force to create a sharp clink. “You did what?”
“This household is an extraordinary one in many ways, Miss Dean, but it is considerably more decent and, yes, more respectable than the majority of the other households in which I have worked. Furthermore, I find it interesting.”
Virginia stared at her, dumbfounded. “Interesting?”
Mrs. Crofton wiped her hands on her apron. “I know very well what is going on around here, ma’am.”
Virginia smiled ruefully. “One cannot conceal secrets from a good housekeeper.”
“That’s true. I know that you and Mr. Sweetwater are hunting a vicious killer, one who preys on women in your line of work. I also know that Mr. Sweetwater was very nearly murdered last night.”
“That’s true.”
“It seems to me, Miss Dean, that you could use some professional assistance.”
“From the police, do you mean? The thing is, we are investigating murders that were committed by paranormal means. There is no hard evidence to give to the police.”
“I was not talking about assistance from the police. I was referring to myself.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“There is something in this case that goes back to the Hollister household, does it not?”
“Yes.”
“That was a large, wealthy household. There would have been staff.”
“Yes,” Virginia said, “but from what I observed, Lord and Lady Hollister employed remarkably few people for a house that size. What employees they did have all seem to have disappeared.”
“Even if the Hollister staff was small, there would have been a housekeeper.”
“Yes, there was. She let me in the day I went to the mansion.”
“The world of those engaged in service in high-ranking households is a small one, ma’am. I spent my entire career in it until I came here. I might be able to find the Hollister housekeeper for you.”
THIRTY-SIX
 
H
e awakened from the dark dream to the pale light of a drizzly dawn and a deep awareness of Virginia’s strong, invigorating energy. He opened his eyes and looked up at the unfamiliar ceiling. He was lying on a bed, but he was quite certain it was not his own.
“It’s about time you woke up,” Virginia said. “Your relations downstairs have been very anxious.”
He turned his head on the pillow and saw her in the doorway of the bedroom. She was dressed in a plain housedress. Her hair was neatly pinned into a simple knot at the back of her head. She had a mug of coffee in her hand.
“Virginia,” he said. He sat up and started to push back the covers. He stopped when he realized he was nude to the waist. He glanced down and saw that he was wearing only his drawers. He yanked the covers back up over his hips and surveyed the decidedly feminine curtains, wallpaper and dressing table. “This is your bedroom.”
“Yes, it is. It was much closer than your own, so we brought you here. It seemed more convenient.” She carried the mug into the room, set it down on the bedside table and gave him a bright smile. “How are you feeling?”
He pondered that briefly. “I think I feel all right.” Cautiously he heightened his talent. Relief flooded through him when he realized that his psychical senses were as strong as ever. “Yes. I’m fine.”
“Good,” she said. “Mrs. Crofton is preparing breakfast for all of us. I suggest you wash up, dress and join us.”
He looked around. “Where are the rest of my clothes?”
“Tony discarded them. He went to your house early this morning to fetch some clean clothes for you. There was just too much blood.”
He grimaced. Seeing him covered in the blood of a man he had just killed had probably not left a good impression on her.
“I understand,” he said.
“You’ll find everything you need hanging in the wardrobe. The bathroom is next door.”
She turned to leave.
“Virginia,” he said very quietly.
She stopped and looked at him. “Yes?”
“You saved me last night.”
“No,” she said. “You are a strong man. You just needed time to recover from the effects of the mirror.”
“I can’t believe that damned looking glass was so powerful.”
“It was an alchemical weapon, not an ordinary looking glass. Charlotte and Nick have done some research into its origins. They will tell you all about it when you come downstairs.”
He twisted the sheet around himself, stood and walked across the room to stand in front of her. “Whatever the hell it was, you are the reason I recovered with my senses intact.”

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