“Aye, aye, sir.” Elizabeth smiled and settled into the task of steering the boat.
They sailed out to the middle of the bay, where they watched the lights of the city reflect off the water. Orange steam bellowed out of several small power stations that dotted the coastline. Far off in the distance a dark cloud blotted out the stars where it hung over the coal mine. Even though the workers had gone home, the day’s work still produced the noxious fumes that held those people hostage.
Samuel lowered the sail and dropped the anchor overboard with barely a splash.
“What are you doing? I thought we were going to sail more,” Elizabeth said, a disappointed.
He sat across from her. “It’s time we had that little talk.”
Elizabeth’s heart sank. The evening was ruined for her. But no matter what he had to say, she would do what she had to do to protect herself and her family.
“I know you’re a Medium. I’ve suspected it for quite some time,” Samuel said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And the idea that you would even suggest such a thing is outrageous.” Elizabeth’s fury rose. “I could have you fired for spreading such gossip.”
Samuel appeared shocked at her vehemence and motioned for her to calm down. “Miss Weldsmore, I’m not going to tell anyone. It’s apparent that you’ve hidden it from your father for years. And I can guess what his reaction would be if he ever found out.”
Elizabeth stood up, rocking the boat. “Take me back immediately. I will not be insulted in such a manner.”
“Please sit down before you fall overboard,” Samuel insisted. “Please.”
Feeling trapped like a wild animal, all Elizabeth wanted to do was launch herself out of the boat and swim to shore. Her look must have given her away.
“It’s a long way to go. And the water’s cold.” Samuel gestured for her to sit again.
After a moment’s fuming, Elizabeth sat down again. “Take me home immediately or I will have you arrested.”
“I will, but first I wanted to say thank you. However you knew those men were going to attack, you probably saved our lives.” Samuel stood up and raised the sail. “But I do have one question.” He stopped and turned to her. “You recognized me the first time we met, and you lied about it. Though you claimed your fainting spell was due to lack of food.”
“I did no such—” Elizabeth started to say before Samuel cut her off with a wave of his hand.
“You forget, Miss Weldsmore, I am… was a detective. I know when people are lying. It’s part of my job,” Samuel replied.
“Your question, Mr. Hunter?” she asked.
“Since I know we had never met before that day, how did you recognize me? Was it in a vision?” His eyes bored into hers as he spoke. “Did you see me die?”
She looked away as her eyes filled with tears. “You have me at a disadvantage, sir. If you speak of such things in public or to my father, even if it were not true, it would stain my family name and honor.”
Samuel moved over and took her hand. “Miss Weldsmore, I would never betray you to anyone, including your father. It’s just that I saw how you suffered having that vision in the buggy. I know people who can help you. They can teach you how to control it.”
Elizabeth stared at his hand for a moment comforted by the warmth of it. “No one can help me, Mr. Hunter,” she said resolved to her fate.
A sudden wind came up and caught the sail. With the anchor still in place, the sloop spun around throwing Elizabeth into Samuel’s arms. They were so close that their breath mingled in the night air.
“You never answered my question. Did I die in your vision, Elizabeth?” he whispered.
The scar over his eye glistened in the moonlight. She reached out and touched it lightly. “This must have caused you great pain.” Elizabeth pulled away from him. “I’m sorry.”
“Can you tell me anything? When? Where? How old was I?” Samuel grabbed the rope to pull the anchor up. “Anything at all?”
Elizabeth slumped next to the tiller as she gestured to the harbor. “On some dock. In the spring. It could be this year or the next. You must understand. I rarely ever see the faces of those I inhabit. I saw yours by accident.”
“You inhabit people in your vision? That’s, well, rather disturbing,” Samuel remarked.
“For them or for me?” Elizabeth pursed her lips.
Samuel stopped what he was doing, stared at her then burst out laughing.
“What is so funny, Mr. Hunter?” Elizabeth demanded to know.
“All of this.” He gestured to everything around them. “The world. Our society. How we fear what we don’t understand.”
“Oh, and you understand what I’m going through?” She gave him a patronizing look.
“No. But as long as I’m in your father’s employ, I will protect you. Even if it’s from him,” Samuel declared.
“Thank you, Mr. Hunter,” Elizabeth graced him with a small smile. “I am forever in your debt.”
AS THE WEEKS PASSED, ELIZABETH spent more time with Samuel. She was relieved to be able to talk to someone about her secret without any repercussions. Samuel told her what he knew about her “gift” but admitted he was no expert. As they spoke, topics often ran the gamut from sailing to what books they liked to read. Elizabeth liked the stories he told of growing up near the wharf. Samuel thought it was a shame her father wouldn’t let her run his company as she had the knowledge and the passion for it. But in her world, such was not to be.
Unfortunately, the servants and her father had begun to notice a certain familiarity in their relationship that had not existed before. Elizabeth had surprised herself when she realized she searched him out whenever she entered a room. It soon became obvious Samuel preferred her company as well. Even if he was talking to someone else when she entered the room, he would glance over, give her a smile, then return to his conversation.
It was all very innocent and completely unacceptable.
As Elizabeth walked down the staircase from her room, she heard Samuel and her father having a heated discussion. She couldn’t make out the words, but her father was obviously furious and Samuel’s tone seethed with anger.
The doors to the study were already open as she entered. Samuel stomped past her without even a glance. Her father’s stern face watched him go, then he gestured for the boys to close the doors. The gears whined as their heavy burden shut with a resounding thud.
“Father, what has happened?” Elizabeth asked.
“I have given Mr. Hunter a promotion. He will now be handling security at the shipping yards,” he responded as he turned his back to her.
An anxious Elizabeth stepped forward. “What do you mean? Who will be my body guard? Are you not concerned with my safety anymore?”
Jonathan whirled around in a rage. “How dare you ask such a thing? I am your father, and your welfare is my only concern. Even if you jeopardize it yourself.”
“What are you talking about?” Elizabeth demanded.
“You have to ask? You who’ve spent the last month mooning over that man,” Jonathan accused. “Elizabeth, you should be ashamed.”
“I have not been mooning over him. He treats me with kindness and respect. And he listens to what I have to say,” Elizabeth retorted.
“Elizabeth, are you blind? The man is in love with you. And I dare say that you may be infatuated with him. I cannot risk that kind of scandal in this household.” He turned his back as if to dismiss her.
“Father, he saved my life. Please. I don’t trust anyone else,” Elizabeth pleaded.
“That is why he still has a job. This discussion is over.” He rang a bell, and the doors cranked open again. Sampson stood outside along with two business associates of her father’s. They greeted Elizabeth with a polite bow and tip of their hats.
Elizabeth regained her composure just enough to nod and flee the room.
ELIZABETH WANTED TO HIDE IN her room and wallow in her misery as she realized
her father was wrong. She was not infatuated with Samuel Hunter. She was in love with him. But appearances had to be kept up, so she continued with her social duties as befitted the daughter of Jonathan Weldsmore. Nevertheless, her heart ached for Samuel. He was the only person to accept her as she was.
What was worse was the knowledge he would die a horrible death on the docks. It was her fault he was there, but she could do nothing about it.
It was the night of the gala at the Bridgeworths’, and Elizabeth had fled out into the garden to escape the attentions of their toady son and heir. The aroma of roses and gardenias filled the air, but she found them cloying. She noticed the dampness and a sudden shift of the wind. The fragrant odor was now tinged with smoke and fumes. Something about it was familiar. What was it, she wondered?
“Elizabeth? Are you out here?” the toady son called from the entrance to the garden.
Horrified he would catch her alone, she fled deeper into the garden and hid behind a tall hedge of boxwood. Elizabeth crouched as low as possible in a formal gown and corset. She peeked through the bushes, hoping he’d search in another direction, but what she saw took her breath away. Above the toady son’s head was the moon. The moon. The one from her vision. It waned in the night sky with wisps of smoke curling in front of it.
This was the night Samuel was destined to die.
Elizabeth burst out from behind the hedge and ran straight toward the toady son. He smiled in surprise and pleasure as he clearly thought she was running to him. He was mistaken as Elizabeth shoved him aside, gathered up her skirts, and dashed into the house.
Inside, her father was holding court over his usual business and political associates. When he saw an anxious and indecorous Elizabeth run across the ballroom, he became alarmed. “Elizabeth, what’s wrong? Has something happened?” He glowered. “Did that boy—”
“No Father. I’m fine. I need to speak to you in private. Please.”
Jonathan was about to get angry at her rudeness, but when he noticed the entire room was watching them, he apparently changed his mind. “Of course. Mr. Bridgeworth will not mind if we borrow his study.” He nodded to his entourage, then turned on his heel and left. Elizabeth followed.
After closing the doors behind them, Jonathan whirled around and marched angrily toward her. He seemed surprised Elizabeth held her ground. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
“You must send men to the dock to protect Samuel,” Elizabeth declared.
“Samuel, is it? Well, Mr. Hunter is perfectly capable of taking care of himself.” Jonathan threw his hands into the air. “I was right. You are infatuated with him. Have you been seeing him behind my back?”
“Of course not,” Elizabeth responded.
“Then why are you doing this?”
Elizabeth took a deep breath, then let the words come out in a torrent. “Because he’s in danger.”
Jonathan’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “How would you know this? Did the servants say something? Did you overhear this?”
“No Father. Please trust me and send men out there. Please.”
Jonathan looked thoughtful for a moment, then exploded in anger. “My God. You’re in love with him, and you’re trying to trick me into bringing him back to the house. I will not have it.” He turned and headed toward the door.
Elizabeth ran after him and grabbed his arm. “No, I mean yes, I am, but this is no trick. I’m trying to save his life.”
He shoved her hand off his arm. “Enough. You’re going home.” Jonathan put his hand on the door handle.
She shook with rage. “No.”
“No? You said no to me? Have you lost your mind?”
Elizabeth tamped down all the years of fear and stood tall. “If you do not send men to find Samuel, I will tell the world the truth.”
“About what? We have no secrets. At least none anyone cares about,” Jonathan declared.
“I do, Father,” Elizabeth felt nauseous as she blurted out the words, “I know Samuel is in danger because I saw it in a vision. I am a Medium and I have been since I was nine years old.”
Stunned, Jonathan stared at her for a moment, then his face contorted in rage. “Hunter knows, doesn’t he?”
“Yes. I had a vision of being attacked in the buggy. That’s why he was able to save us,” Elizabeth replied. “I could give you countless other examples, but we’re wasting time.” She stepped forward and faced her father eye-to-eye. “Send the men. And I’m going with them.”
ELIZABETH RODE IN THE STEAM-POWERED buggy with her father and two guards. Four other guards followed them on horseback. Jonathan looked grim as he checked his rifle for the third time. It was a double-barrel shotgun with a gear-driven automatic range-finding telescopic sight mounted on the top, and his prized possession next to his daughter.
“Thank you for believing me, Father.”
“You may have disappointed me tonight, Elizabeth, but you have never been a liar,” he replied with sadness in his voice. “I wanted the world for you. Now that will never happen.”
Elizabeth looked him straight in the eye. “I could not let him die.”
“A part of me wishes you had. Then I would have known where your true loyalties lie,” her father responded as he polished the barrel once again.
The vehicle roared around a corner and headed toward the docks, the horsemen close behind. Gravel sprayed up as the horses’ hooves dug into the pavement.
As they neared the east end of the harbor, Jonathan turned to Elizabeth and asked, “You’re positive you saw the sign for Fredrick’s and Sons? Hunter’s duty schedule doesn’t place him in that area until next week.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I’m sure, Father. Can the driver go any faster?”
Jonathan frowned, then nodded to one of the guards, who thumped on the window divider. The steam-powered buggy picked up speed. It rocked back and forth so violently, Elizabeth grabbed hold of her father. “You better be right. Fixing this damn thing is going to cost me.”
The vehicle came to a sudden halt, almost throwing Elizabeth out of her seat. The guards tried to hide their amusement at her discomfort. She glared at them as she flung open the door.
“Coming? Or do I have to do this myself?” Elizabeth challenged them.
Clearly, a little embarrassed, the men exited the buggy and marched toward the docks. Elizabeth turned to follow them, but her father grabbed her arm. “Don’t get above yourself, Elizabeth.”
“I am above them Father. You taught me that,” she shot back and hurried out of the buggy.
The smell of the sea triggered her memory of that vision. The fingerless man, his sons and a pistol flooded her mind. “Which way?”
Jonathan pointed toward several docks that were too narrow for the buggy to traverse, Elizabeth gathered up her skirts and marched in that direction. The other guards had dismounted and hurried after her. They soon caught up and ran in front. Jonathan pulled her back. “Let the guards go first.”
Elizabeth started to argue, then thought better of it.
They hurried past warehouse after warehouse. She was like a rat caught in maze with no end until they heard angry voices echoing through the buildings. “Samuel,” Elizabeth whispered. She turned to her father. “We’re too late!”
Elizabeth dashed off, leaving the men behind. She heard her father yelling after her to stop, but after turning a corner she could no longer hear him.
Elizabeth ran through the dark, narrow, corridors winding her way through the warehouses. The voices got louder, then softer and louder again, sometimes echoing from all directions. It was as if his impending death was taunting her. “Samuel!” she yelled.
She turned a corner and saw Samuel grappling with the old man from her vision. They twisted and turned, each trying to gain the upper hand. Sweat and blood streamed down Samuel’s face. The old man grimaced in fierce determination. His sons looked for an opportunity to jump in.
A shot rang through the air.
“Sam
uel!” cried Elizabeth devastated that the one time she tried to help someone, she’d failed. “No!”
Samuel and the old man held on to each other for a moment, then to Elizabeth’s surprise, Samuel let the man go. Graybeard fell lifeless to the ground with the pistol in his hand. The two sons were stunned, but backed off when they looked beyond their father. They raised their hands.
Elizabeth stepped out into the open to see her father with his rifle raised and pointed at the young men, Samuel included. Smoke from the gunpowder in his weapon dissipated. “Father, no. Please don’t hurt him,” she begged.
Samuel beamed at her. “Elizabeth.” He stepped toward her, but Jonathan had not lowered his gun.
“Do not go near my daughter, sir, or I will kill you where you stand,” he declared.
“What are you doing?” Elizabeth demanded.
“He’s the only one who knows about you. With him dead, things can go back to the way they were.” Jonathan kept Samuel in his sights. “He’ll have died a hero’s death protecting you from these vagrants.”
Elizabeth ran forward and stepped in front of Samuel. “No. I won’t hide what I am anymore.”
Samuel took her by the shoulders and moved her aside. “I love you, Elizabeth, but I’ll not have you defending me from your own father. Besides, if he kills me, he’ll have to kill these two.” Samuel gestured to the old man’s sons, who began to tremble in fear. “How many people are you willing to murder tonight, Mr. Weldsmore? And what about the guards? They may talk.”
“They can be bought,” Jonathan retorted.
“But for how long?” Samuel replied as he stepped toward Elizabeth’s father. “Secrets cannot be hidden forever. The world will eventually know what Elizabeth is. The question is, do you want to control how they find out or let rumors and innuendo nibble away at your family’s honor until there is nothing left?”
Still pointing his rifle at Samuel, Jonathan squinted and looked through the sight for a moment, his finger posed on the trigger. He lowered the weapon. “What would you have me do, Mr. Hunter?”
Boston Metaphysical Society Page 7
