The Darkly Luminous Fight for Persephone Parker (19 page)

Percy’s calling hours at the Rychman estate began with a visit from a man of the cloth.

“Hullo, Percy!” Michael said at the door, sweeping his cap off his head.

“Hello, Vicar! Pleasure to see you! I assume you’re here for Alexi? He’s just gone into Athens.”

“Ah, but it’s a vicar’s duty to call upon the ladies of his congregation, and while I know you’re not a member of my Anglican parish, you’re a member of my far more exclusive assembly.”

Percy smiled. “Do come in. I daresay Mrs. Wentworth cooked up enough treats for an army.”

“And I always have the appetite of one!”

Once settled in the sitting room and plied with the afore-mentioned delights, the clergyman was quick to the point. “I don’t suppose it’s a surprise your husband is fraught with worry. It isn’t easy, you know, for a man to deal honestly with the heart.”

Percy eyed the vicar, daring to turn the tables. “Oh?”

Michael waggled his mustache. “You’ll not get gossip out of me, young lady.”

“Fine,” she retorted. “But I’m not used to talking about my own particulars. It’s unsettling.”

“You’re the centre of a maelstrom, bound to cause discussion.”

“But…what if I really do have to go into the spirit
world because duty demands it? I don’t want to go. Alexi doesn’t want me to. But what if I must go without his permission? He’ll never forgive me, never trust me…”

“If indeed you must go, we will be there to support you—and to support him when the appropriate time comes. But the both of you must not worry about tomorrow—”

“ ‘Sufficient for the day is its own trouble,’ ” Percy murmured, finishing the scripture. “Now, I rightly knew what I was getting into with him, Michael. I knew he was a brooding man. But I’ve never known him to be mercurial.”

Michael shrugged. “Love makes a man mad.”

Percy narrowed her eyes, curious. “How have
you
managed to keep your wits?”

He raised an eyebrow but remained unruffled. “Secrets of the trade. Alchemy of the heart—most profound magic of all. But I’m not here for my sake.” He leaned in. “I beg you realize Alexi’s absolute adoration for you has turned everything on end, so have patience. If I know him, you’ll need a lifetime supply.”

Percy chuckled. After a moment, however, she was again bold: “When, Vicar, will you set patience aside and tell her?”

Michael made to act innocent.

“A war is coming,” Percy continued. “We shall need all the love we have.”

The vicar rose, giving her a dawning look. “Why, that’s a most sensible thing to say, Mrs. Rychman. Most sensible.” He kissed Percy on the cheek and allowed her to see him quietly out the door.

While Percy assumed she’d see Josephine before anyone, it was a surprise that Jane was next. The Irishwoman sat alone and uneasy in the parlour that afternoon, and Percy donned her tinted glasses to protect her eyes and opened every shade; the full light seemed a more inviting environment for company.

“Aodhan,” they chorused after a tense silence.

Jane sighed. “I suppose I’d best tell you about him.”

“I don’t mean to press you, but it may—”

“Help, yes. Thank you for telling me his name.”

“My pleasure.”

Jane took again to the tea she’d been brought, but could delay no longer. She entered an almost trancelike state as she related her past. “Our Work was a gift. I was a girl caught out of time, thrust into a world advancin’ too quickly, growin’ too broadly and losin’ all magic. I understood why I was chosen, but…there was somethin’ more.

“Useless to my family, I was turned out at eighteen. Your husband bought me my Aldgate flat, and I was never so lonely. I know The Guard loves me, but I’ve not the beauty of Josephine, the efficiency of Rebecca, the confidence of Alexi, the wit of Elijah or the joy of Michael. It didn’t help that it took time for my talents to manifest. Initial victims suffered more than they should. I needed help, but no one knew how. Then, one night, there came a terrible sound on my doorstep.

“Outside lay a mass of white and red—a cat, terribly mauled. I can’t bear to see a creature in pain. A cold draft came in as I took the creature to lie upon my table. The cat looked at something, fixed-like. It was a man floating by my side, his hand upheld. Nameless to me, but beautiful. So beautiful. I pressed my palm to his cold mist and felt newfound strength. My hand glowed, and I suddenly understood why others’ pain causes me such misery.

“I laid healing hands on the creature, and the skin beneath the fur began to mend, the spilled blood rolling away like mercury. Aodhan…touched my face and took the tears from my cheeks. I gained both love and Marlowe that evening.”

She stopped, and Percy took the cue to refill her tea, patient with the silence and not looking twice at Jane’s fierce
blush. Finally Percy said, “It’s an incredible story. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Jane smiled, pleased. “Feels good to tell it. When we could spare it,” she volunteered after another silence, “we went healing. I practiced with him, in alleys where the sick and dying lay untended, in sad, dim wards where the only light was our combined illumination.”

“And The Guard never knew?”

“Elijah, having once accidentally brushed me with his touch, saw what I’d been up to the night prior. He pledged to say nothing if I’d now and then take him along. We never said a word, only smiled at each other when all was said and done, enjoying our secret. Now and then Michael would let me into his parish children’s ward, too.”

“Brilliant.” Percy grinned.

“Aodhan keeps me company, see. Now and then I’ll play fiddle and we’ll dance a reel—a piece of common heritage. I never told the group, for fear they’d think it ‘fraternizing’ with the opposition. Not a single word. Gentle spirits are no enemies, but are we to
love
them?” Jane asked, blushing. “And I do love him.”

A popping noise resounded through the room and a black portal appeared over the tea table. Both ladies’ hands went up and they jumped to their feet. Their visitor was the very spirit in question. His palms were outstretched in a gesture of peace, and his broad shoulders took up the portal’s full width. Jane went red, but Percy smiled.

“I cannot help it,” Aodhan explained to Percy. “Now that she knows my name, I must come when she calls. Do tell her how much I love her, my lady, will you?”

Percy beamed at the ghost and then Jane. She related the man’s message, and watched tears flow down Jane’s cheeks. Jane didn’t bother to dry them.

“And I you,” she said to Aodhan. “Though you’ve heard me say it before. It’s good to hear the same from you. Thank you,” she added, turning to Percy.

“My honour.”

Jane’s tear-stained face became thoughtful. “Loneliness has long been my burden. Before I ever saw a ghost I felt them—felt like one, myself. I’m sure you must understand.”

Percy nodded but said nothing.

“I’ve never spoken about my names,” Jane confessed. “The rest of The Guard assume it’s some Catholic trapping. My Christian name is Jane. When I was very little, before we came to England, we lived beside a graveyard outside Dublin. I’d go there every day and visit two graves—two ill-kept graves separate from the others and on opposite sides, entirely isolated. Alone. Lucretia Connor, Marie O’Shannon…barely thirty years alive. The father of the parish must’ve given them a marker out of pity, a small comfort of little use in death…”

Jane shifted her gaze between Percy and Aodhan, who floated, rapt, at the portal. She went on. “I wondered if those young women had ever had a love. Surely they’d no family. Even in death they’d no one around them, even in the cold ground. My heart hurt for them, so separate, shunned, failures. I was terrified I’d turn out just the same—or worse, never have a marker, like so many families, perhaps even mine. I don’t even know what happened to them,” the Irishwoman murmured, her tearful eyes wide. Percy thought about her own mother’s grave, similarly sorrowful, and took Jane’s hand.

“My family disowned me, like what surely happened with these lonely women. But those lasses live on in me through their names, and I pray I share some of my blessings with them. Because I do feel blessed. If not for The Guard, I’d have turned out the same as them. Without Aodhan, I’d have gone into the ground never having loved. Even though my family is this inexplicable ragtag force against the restless dead, and my love is one that can never be requited, both things are a blessing. I fancy taking their names brought these two souls peace.”

“Never requited?” Aodhan whispered. “We are two beings of one heart. A heart so big it can hold a grander family than she possibly knows, and all the great mysteries of the universe. What more is there?”

As Percy relayed his words, Beatrice suddenly popped into view behind him. “You could join him, you know,” the ghost said to Jane. “End your fleshly existence, follow your lover into this undiscovered country…”

Aodhan turned in horror, but Percy nonetheless relayed what the female spirit said. Jane went red, flustered, her accent never so thick. “It’s a sin to do so! To take yer life by yer own hand?” she cried. “Don’tcha think I’ve thought of it? I’d have done it already, to be with him, but…And there’s work to do. I’ve The Guard, I’ve a duty—”

“And I’d never want such a thing!” Aodhan exclaimed.

Beatrice folded her arms, looking coldly furious. “A
sin.
The Grand Work sounded my death knell and I stepped forward to meet its chimes. If Ibrahim and I hadn’t gone in when we did, none of you would likely be alive. Sacrifices are sometimes necessary.” She vanished back into the darkness, the portal flickering as she did.

Aodhan sighed. “I’ll see you soon, Jane, my love. I’ll wait for you ever and always. Don’t rush to be with me.” He bowed, and just as Percy echoed his last word, the portal snapped shut. Jane stared, and her fingers absently caressed the air where the portal’s edge had wavered.

“My first friend was a spirit. Who is to say whom we mustn’t love?” Percy asked. “Why, for that matter, Alexi suspects I may not be human.”

Jane wiped her eyes and stared. “Why would that matter?”

Lifting her teacup, Percy swirled her spoon around a few stray leaves. “What might it mean for our future? Am I really free to be here, to be Alexi’s, or am I still bound elsewhere—in the spirit world? He’s quite worried about fate.”

“Then perhaps he should enjoy you while he has you. We’re being too quiet, too careful—all of us.” Jane straightened, her cheeks flushed. Her tone was suddenly righteous. “Josephine and Elijah should’ve married years ago. Michael, for the love of the Holy Saints, should bloody tell Rebecca how he feels. Rebecca needs to stop pining over your husband, and your husband shouldn’t give your past a second thought. And I should be able to love my blessed Aodhan!” Her face was scarlet but proud. “There. I said everything, and I haven’t even had a drink.”

Percy grinned. “Cheers.” She raised her teacup. “Thank you.”

“What would calling hours be without gossip? The real task is up to you. Since you’re new, sweet and unassuming, you must convince us to stop worrying and love what we have. Otherwise we’ll end up with nothing.”

The following day Percy was deep in translation, happily busy in her office at Athens, when she heard a knock at her door. “Percy!” came a familiar call.

“Marianna, do come in!”

The door swung wide and her friend, blonde hair slightly askew, came flouncing into the room. “Oooh, what a palace!” Percy rose from behind her desk to give the German girl a hearty hug, but Marianna pulled away with a pouting lip. “I knew it would be different. I knew I’d hardly see you.”

It was true; she’d seen her best friend so little since the wedding. She’d hardly had a chance to catch her breath. “Are you all right, my dear?” she asked. Marianna looked more tired than usual, her eyes a bit sunken.

“Quite well, thank you. A bit fatigued, I confess. And you?” The girl drew back and whirled about the polished floor of the office, her eyes devouring every detail. “Life as Mrs. Rychman?”

Percy blushed. “Still incredible.”

“How close does he look after you?”

Percy paused, surprised. She considered the bruise on her arm and told the truth. “He’s very protective.”

“And his estate…?” Marianna offered a baiting grin.

“Not to be believed,” Percy said. The two shared a familiar, girlish squeal. How many times had they shared fantastic dreams of marital bliss, dreams Percy never expected to come true? “Oh, Marianna, come tomorrow for a visit. You received a card, didn’t you?”

“Ah, yes, so I did.”

“Now that I’m staff…I’ll excuse you from class.” Percy grinned, sitting at her desk and scribbling a note. She tucked a bill in the paper. “There’s fare for the driver. Alexi makes sure I always have money; just this morning he pressed it into my hand and said, ‘I’ll have you want for nothing.’ And it’s true—I want for nothing more than him.” She was eager to share the happiness of her good fortune rather than dreadful portals and ghosts.

“Just so long as he doesn’t leave you alone,” Marianna replied. When Percy furrowed her brow, her friend explained. “He broke your heart once, remember? That other woman in the courtyard?”

Percy blinked. She wasn’t sure what she’d told Marianna at her infirmary bedside in the haze of that fever just before all hell broke loose. She must have mentioned seeing Alexi strolling with that monstrous woman Lucille Linden. Shaking the memory from her mind, she said, “Yes, but that was all explained. There’s nothing but confidence between us now.” She handed Marianna the note.

Her friend’s eyes, while sparkling with the usual mischief, held something else as well—an odd, detached distance. She said, “Of course. Now I’m off to torment Edward; your marriage has inspired me. Tomorrow, then! Your estate! I cannot wait to see where he keeps you!”

Percy frowned as Marianna gave a giggle and trotted out of the room, but before she could wonder if the tenor of
their friendship had indeed changed forever, there came a shimmering dark portal in the centre of the room. There was an odd silence within. Percy had prepared herself for the infernal nursery rhyme, but this silence was more frightening.