“So everything else was wrong?” Ned asked. Amanda looked at me and her own expression did not require a psychic gift to interpret. We were unlikely to become friends.
“Let’s just say I would continue practicing if I were her,” I said.
“I am quite certain I need fear Mr. Stickney’s scrutiny far less than you,” Amanda said.
“Did your reading tell you that as well?” I asked.
“No, common sense did. After all, it hardly seems credible that you would announce you just happened to be a medium as soon as Flora Roberts canceled.”
“What are you implying?” I said.
“I’m not implying anything. I am flat out saying that I believe you are a fraud.” With that, she rose from the sofa and swept past me out the door, pressing my cards into my hand as she went. “You’ll need every bit of cunning these imply you possess if you stand a chance of fooling Mr. Stickney.” She scowled at me, then flounced off in her fashionable gown.
“Miss Proulx, I must apologize for Amanda,” Ned said. “I have no idea what came over her. She is usually so accurate and has such a ladylike demeanor.”
“Worry brings out the worst in us all. Think nothing of it.”
“How understanding of you. I’m afraid Mr. Stickney’s arrival has all the practitioners upset.”
“Why should they be?” I was curious about the attitude of the staff.
“No one likes to be under suspicion. Besides, it fundamentally changes the atmosphere in the hotel from one of support to one of skepticism. Everett mentioned at luncheon that he feels a change in the energy here already and it has only been a few hours. Just imagine what it could do over the course of the season.”
“Do you feel it yourself?”
“Numerology is more of a science. Facts, figures, and numbers are far less susceptible to that sort of thing than is dowsing, scrying, or even your own practice of mediumship. Have you done a reading since Mr. Stickney arrived?”
“I have not. I understand he arrived just after I concluded my session this morning with the Velmonts.”
“So you have not yet felt any resistance in the part of the spirits or of your own guide to the change in the wind?” I could have kissed him if I were that sort of girl. Ned had given me a perfect excuse to use if I found myself in trouble with any of the clients. I could blame Mr. Stickney for silencing the spirits.
“It is likely it will be more difficult to connect with those in spirit with a doubtful energy hanging over us all. Still, we shall have to make the best of it.”
“I wish there was something I could do to help,” Ned said, which reminded me of my appointment with Lucinda.
“There is a way you could help me. Can you tell me how to get to this address?” I pointed to Lucinda’s card.
“I know just where this is. I’d be happy to escort you.” Ned crooked his arm and ushered me out the door.
• • •
All the way to Lucinda’s house Ned kept up a steady stream of chatter. I was grateful for the distraction. His efforts to impress me with his knowledge of the area and his expertise in numerology drove Amanda’s words from my thoughts. Mostly. But every time he paused I could hear her giving an accurate description of my emotions and my past just from touching my cards. Could it be possible for someone to possess such a talent? Or was her assessment of my character and background just wishful thinking on her part? Either way, I would do my best not to allow her to touch anything else I owned.
Ned brought me directly to Lucinda’s doorstep. After assuring himself I could find my own way back to the hotel he made his good-byes and left me to my visit.
The Yancey home was small but well kept. Crisp gray paint with white trim and a profusion of flowers in the boxes at the windows proclaimed the owners of the little Cape to be house-proud. I mounted the steps to the small porch and pulled on the bell. Yapping emerged from inside before Lucinda herself flung open the door.
“Ruby, I hope you like dogs,” she said, bending to scoop up a plump ball of scruffy cream-colored fur and frantic energy. “Blossom, stop barking and say hello to our friend Ruby.”
“I adore them.” One of the many things that played a part in my fantasy of living in a house was to have a dog. Blossom was just exactly what I had imagined, except the dog in my mind’s eye had dark spots on its coat. I pulled off my glove and held my fingers out for the little dog to sniff.
“She likes you,” Lucinda said when Blossom licked my fingertips.
“I like her, too,” I said, feeling pleased to have passed muster. “What sort of dog is she?”
“A very naughty one.” Lucinda gently patted Blossom’s thick body. “I don’t suppose you’d like a puppy in a few weeks, would you?”
“I would love one but I certainly can’t speak for Honoria.”
“I don’t expect you’ll have any worries there. From what my mother has to say, Honoria would give you anything you asked to keep you at the Belden. She’s simply over the moon that you’ve come home.” Lucinda stepped back into the short hallway and returned Blossom to the floor. “But let’s not stand here in the doorway. The parlor’s right over there.”
I followed her into a small, bright room filled to bursting with bric-a-brac. Every surface simply heaved with vases, doilies, and small figurines. Needlepoint pillows clotted the chairs and the sofa. Only the floor was unblemished by decoration.
“Make yourself comfortable, if you possibly can,” Lucinda said with a broad sweep of her arm. “When Mother isn’t consulting with your aunt about the spiritual side of life she throws herself headlong into needlework.”
“Did she create all of this?”
“Yes. She’s simply a wonder with a needle and thread. Mother needs things to keep her busy and to take her mind off the past. Which is one of the reasons I invited you here today.”
“I am terribly sorry if your mother was disturbed by the séance. I’d be happy to make excuses as to why I cannot hold another sitting with your mother if that’s why you asked to see me.” I had been hoping to make a friend of Lucinda but I understood if she was not interested.
“I wanted to see you about Mother, but I would like you to have more contact with her rather than less.”
“More sittings, you mean?”
“Not so much sittings as fittings.” Lucinda passed her gaze over the room and shook her head. “May I speak frankly without fear of offending you?”
“I am not easily offended. Please tell me what you had in mind.”
“Your wardrobe. It simply won’t do.”
“My clothing was lost along the journey,” I said, hoping the lie sounded convincing. “I am very grateful that Honoria kept all my mother’s things and that they fit so well.”
“They are very pretty but are tragically out of date. A young woman such as yourself, with looks, a social position, and a need to mingle with guests at the hotel should be dressed appropriately.”
“I could not ask Honoria for money for clothing and I am afraid I have none of my own.”
“I’m doing a poor job of explaining my idea. I would like you to do me the very great favor of allowing my mother to make over your gowns.”
“I couldn’t ask that of her. Imagine the work it would take.”
“Exactly. She needs a new project. The bigger, the better. It would cost nothing to alter the existing wardrobe other than time, and she would be delighted to do it.”
“It seems too much to ask.”
“I am asking you to allow me to portray you as desperate and without resources to aid yourself. I’m very much afraid I’m the one asking too much.”
“Will Honoria object to the gowns being altered? After all, she has kept everything in my mother’s room just as it was when she left, including the clothing.”
“She has been keeping everything in the room for y
ou and she wants you to love it all and to stay with her always. She certainly isn’t going to deny you this.”
“I wouldn’t even know how to ask. She has already been so generous, giving me a home and making me feel so welcome.”
“Leave that bit to me. I shall write to her and propose that in order to best represent the Belden you need a proper wardrobe. I will suggest Honoria would be doing me a favor by allowing Mother to make the alterations.”
“Are you certain she won’t object?”
“Of course she won’t. Even Warren couldn’t complain about it. As a matter of fact, his commenting on what a shame it was that such a pretty girl as you was dressed as a middle-aged woman convinced me to formulate this plan in the first place.”
Heat surged to my cheeks and down my neck. I certainly was not interested in Officer Yancey’s good opinion but knowing he thought I was pretty and pitiable was strangely disturbing.
“Do you think your mother really would be willing?” I asked.
“Does it look to you as though she has space to drape another doily? Besides, we’ve already discussed it and she would like to do it as a way to repay you for contacting Gladys. She’s looking forward to many more sessions.”
“Your brother came by the hotel this morning to warn me not to conduct any more séances for your mother or you, so I doubt that will be necessary.”
“He did what?” Lucinda’s tone perked up Blossom’s droopy ears.
“He demanded that I stop playing havoc with your mother’s nerves. He was quite insistent.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him I had no intention of stopping the sessions as long as your mother wished me to continue them.”
“Good for you. I knew you were a modern sort of girl the minute I saw you no matter how old-fashioned your clothes were.”
“I hope I haven’t caused a rift in your home.”
“Don’t give it another thought. Mother will be delighted you’ve agreed to the project. Warren has no say in our affairs.”
“If you’re certain, it would be a relief to face the dining room feeling more in fashion.” I thought of Amanda and her cutting remarks. It gave me a slight tremor of excitement to think of her reaction when I appeared at the table with something she could not fault.
“Then it’s settled.” Lucinda stood. “All this planning has made me hungry. I’ll be back in a moment with some muffins and jam.”
“Do you need help?”
“No. Just make yourself at home and try not to be smothered by an avalanche of needlework in my absence.” Lucinda smiled and Blossom followed her out the door, her toenails clicking and scratching against the gleaming hardwood floors.
I stood and moved about the room, taking it all in. Despite the abundance of decorative items there was a complete absence of dust. The brass light fixtures and andirons shone and the windows and mirrors sparkled. I stepped to the fireplace and looked at the tintypes on the mantel. In one, a man with an elegant mustache and sad eyes peered mournfully at me. In another, a slightly younger Officer Yancey cut a fine figure in an army uniform. I was still leaning over the tintype when Lucinda returned pushing a loaded tea cart.
“I hide this in the closet under the stairs so Mother can’t smother it and I can actually use it,” Lucinda said, stopping the cart in front of a pair of armchairs. “You found Warren, I see.”
“I thought it must be him. When was he in the service?”
“He’s been back about a year. He served for eight years, more or less.”
“How dashing he looks in his uniform. He looks like a man of adventure.”
“If he was, I don’t know about it.” Lucinda sat in one of the chairs and poured the tea. I sat in the other and took the cup she offered.
“A man who doesn’t boast about his daring deeds in the service of his country?” I was surprised. Not because Officer Yancey seemed like a man inclined to brag but because the men both visiting the medicine show and working it counted their time in the service as a point of honor and used it as a way to converse with other men.
“Warren won’t speak of any of it at all. It is as though eight years of his life never happened. One minute he was gone with nothing more than an occasional letter and then he was back, trying to act as though he never left.”
“Perhaps he did not find army life to his liking,” I said. “I suppose some men don’t.”
“All I know is that he came back a changed man.” Lucinda flicked a towel back to reveal a tempting display of baked goods. “But right now I am much more interested in discussing how we are to make a complete change to your wardrobe. After we eat, we’ll write to Honoria.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As much as I enjoyed my visit with Lucinda, I was ready for a little time to myself before the rigors of the dinner hour. I headed for the veranda and settled in a deep chair to read and look at the sea.
The view held me spellbound until the sounds of an argument drifted toward me from just beyond the fence enclosing the garden where I had sat with Mrs. Doyle refreshing my mother’s hat. I didn’t need to view the combatants. I recognized the voices of both Sanford Dobbins and Leander Stickney.
Perhaps I should have done the polite thing and cleared my throat loudly to alert them of my presence. Or even more politely, taken myself elsewhere in order to allow them their privacy. But long ago I had learned what was polite and what was useful were often very different things. I stuck my finger in my book and strained forward to listen closely. I could use all the inside information I could get for my upcoming séance session with the Stickneys.
“Sanford, I’ve been thinking over the incident with Flora Roberts.” Leander Stickney’s voice was deep and forceful. “The entire situation was very embarrassing and I’ve concluded I must dismiss you from my employ.”
“You’re firing me?”
“You’ve left me no choice. I only hired you in the first place because your aunt insisted.”
“But you need me.”
“I needed you to help keep your aunt from being taken in by every charlatan in the greater Boston area. But instead, you encouraged her in a relationship that could have done irreparable damage to our family name. After all, how would it look if a fraud investigator’s wife was systematically bilked out of her fortune?”
“You never proved Miss Roberts was a fraud.” Sanford’s voice shot up an octave.
“I never went public with my findings but that doesn’t mean I had no proof.”
“You always do think of your reputation ahead of all else.”
“Lucky for you someone does. If I hadn’t caught on to Miss Roberts and told her I’d share my suspicions with the police if she showed her face in Old Orchard this summer she would have drained your aunt dry by the end of the season.”
“You can’t really mean to dismiss me. I’ve been an asset to the society for ages.”
“No, you’ve repeatedly been a liability. This wasn’t the first incident in which you were duped.”
“If you are referring to Madame Gustav, I know what I saw. She materialized a trumpet in the middle of the séance table out of thin air.”
“Madame Gustav was arrested for fraud by the Boston police the day after your session with her.”
“Only because you set them onto her.” Mr. Dobbins’s voice was so shrill it was difficult to understand.
“Don’t be so naive,” Mr. Stickney said. “You know very well that the police found fishing line and pulleys and a stash of trumpets and other so-called materials of apportment in her rooms when they raided them.”
“And why do you suppose that was?”
“Don’t start in with that again. I’ve already assured you that I did not place those items in her home to incriminate her. Nor did I pay anyone else to do so.” Mr. Stickney cleared his throat.
&nbs
p; “I’ll tell Permilia that you are firing me and that you’re the one responsible for Flora Roberts changing her mind about spending the season at the Belden.”
“No you won’t. Unless you persuade my wife that leaving my employ was your idea and keep what you know about Miss Roberts to yourself, I will help myself to your trust account.”
“But that was left to me by my parents. You have no right to it.”
“As trustee I may disburse funds however I see fit until you turn thirty. If there’s nothing left of it by then it will be your fault for displeasing me.”
“It’s mine upon my marriage.”
“Only if I approve the match. Since I won’t, I suggest you follow Miss Roberts’s example and disappear.”
“Permilia will be devastated. She thinks of me as a son.”
“But I do not. You have until tomorrow to let your aunt know you have decided to take a job elsewhere.”
A door slammed loudly, then the sound of happy whistling floated over the fence. I leaned back in the wicker chair to think. Leander Stickney was the reason Flora Roberts had canceled at the Belden—that much was clear. I wondered if my willingness to return to a life of deceit, despite my misgivings, was all for naught. If Mr. Stickney exposed me, Honoria was sure to lose the hotel anyway. But at least I wouldn’t have to worry about finding a place to live. Officer Yancey was sure to provide me with accommodations in the nearest jail.
• • •
Yancey stood on the boardwalk, contemplating the throng milling around the base of the mostly completed pier when he felt a jab between his shoulder blades. He whirled round, wearing his best policeman’s scowl, only to face his sister, Lucy.
“I could arrest you for assaulting a police officer,” he said. The girl had no sense at all sometimes.
“I wish I could call the authorities on you for unwarranted meddling.” Lucy was angry. Yancey would have realized it even without the jabbing. Her flushed cheeks were one indication. Her arms alternating between whirling about like pinwheels and clamping across her chest were another. He wasn’t going to risk enraging her further and causing a public scene by pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about.
Whispers Beyond the Veil Page 13
