Ether & Elephants

by Cindy Spencer Pape

  “Well, think about it,” Nell said. “My parents would help and I do have some money of my own. We could take some paying students as well, to help keep the school solvent.” She decided not to mention Nancy yet. Roger was a good man. He’d come around eventually. “More importantly, did any of your work with Wink and Melody shed any new light on where we might find Charlie?”

  “No, it just cast even more shadows on his possible origins.” As if sensing their romantic moment had come to an end, Roger took her arm and started back toward the group on the main lawn. “I gather the chaps interrogating the miners didn’t fare much better. We’re still at a dead end, it seems.”

  “Well, we can keep trying to find out who the miners were working for.” Nell paused as Nancy, now smiling and pretty in one of Emma’s outgrown dresses, ran up to her.

  “Miss Nell, did I hear that right? Are you looking for Mr. Wickers’s boss-man?”

  Nell introduced the child to Roger, taking hold of the hand without the broken fingers. “Is there something you can tell us, Nancy?” Had no one thought to question the children? She thought back. Yes, Tom had, but Nancy had stayed in the kitchen, helping with the younger ones. No one had interviewed her, and she was probably the best witness of the lot. Dear heavens, they were all idiots.

  “Mr. Albert Barclay, Number 22 Pemberton Lane, Birming’am,” Nancy recited. “I saw it on his card, you see, when we were all in the factory for testing.”

  “Testing?” Nell drew Nancy with her to a bench and gestured for some of the others to come join them. Soon Caro, Geneva and Sir Fergus had gathered around. “Nancy, tell us about this testing, the factory and anything you can about this Mr. Barclay.”

  “All right.” She drew in a deep breath and puffed up her chest. “After they grabbed us, they took us to this big factory building. Don’t know what they were making, but it was noisy and smelled like rotten eggs. There were four of us they nabbed from the docks. I was the biggest, little Fred was the smallest. He’s six. Or he was. Had a terrible cough. Don’t think he was going to make it much longer.” Her voice trembled, but she went on.

  Nell understood. When you lived in those conditions, you saw a lot of death, and you couldn’t let each one drag you down too far or you’d be next.

  “And what happened at the factory?” Caro asked, kneeling in front of the child.

  “They tested us, like I said. Could we read? How fast could we run? How much could we carry? Other stuff too, like could we see in the dark, or know what card someone pulled from a deck before we saw it. Don’t know how, but this one girl could do that. She’s the one they took away first. Then Fred. I heard one of the bully boys saying to just dump him back on the street.”

  “I’m sorry about your friend,” Nell said. “Do you know where this factory is?”

  “Thanks, miss.” Nancy’s face scrunched up as she thought about it. “And no. They carried us in a closed coach. But it was half a day or so to get to the mine, once they decided to send me there.”

  “And Mr. Barclay. How did you find out his address?”

  “Saw it on his card,” she said. “I’m nothing special at much, but once I read something, I always remember it, usually word for word. Bible verses, mostly. That’s what our neighbor lady used to teach me reading and writing.”

  What a brilliant child. She was so definitely going to school!

  “So you saw him hand someone a calling card?” Caro asked. “That’s a clever way to find information.”

  Nancy didn’t appear impressed by the praise. “He gave it to the two men who came for the girl, the one who knew the spots on the cards. I only saw it for a moment.”

  “Excellent.” Nell squeezed Nancy’s hand. “And can you describe Mr. Barclay?”

  Nancy wrinkled her nose. “Know him again anywhere, I would. I don’t never forget a face, neither.”

  Caro tilted her head. “I wonder. Can you draw? Could you maybe make us a picture of Mr. Barclay?”

  “Not with my fingers like this.” Nancy held up her bandaged left hand. “Can’t draw much at all right now. Mrs. Gaskill said it was a sign of the devil to use the wrong hand, but even she couldn’t teach me to write with the other.”

  “I have an idea,” Geneva said. “Let’s play a game. We’ll walk through the portrait gallery, and you can point things out on the pictures. That hair, this nose, and so forth. Then maybe someone can put together a sketch.”

  “That’s brilliant!” Nell beamed at her friend. “Come along, Nancy. Let’s see some photographs. Roger, can you see if someone can run Mr. Barclay’s address through the Babbage engines? Perhaps something will turn up.”

  “I have some small skill with engines,” Roger allowed. “Lady Northland, would you like to come with me?”

  Caro laughed. “Heavens, no. If I so much as touch a machine, it breaks, but I can sketch a bit. I’ll go with Nell, while you and Geneva do the searching. And do call me Caro.”

  Roger and Geneva split off for the workshop after having Nancy repeat the address. Caro collected a sketch pad and pencil in the library, on the way up to the Arrington family portrait gallery.

  “Let’s start with something easy,” Caro said to the girl. “How tall was he, and how stout?”

  “Taller than either of you,” Nancy said. “About the same as Dr. Genny.” Geneva was a moderately tall female. Caro made a note on her pad. “Not stout at all. More wiry like that older fellow, Hatch.”

  “Mister Hatch is the butler here,” Nell reminded the child. “You should be polite to him. He works hard to see that everything runs smoothly.”

  “And he coshed one of the guards with a rock.” A trace of hero worship shone in the girl’s blue eyes. “Wish I could’ve done that.”

  “Me too,” Nell and Caro muttered at the same time. They chuckled, then turned back to Nancy, eliciting the information that Mr. Barclay had brown eyes, bushy eyebrows, brown hair shot with gray at the temples, was clean-shaven and smelled of bay rum. Then they walked through the portrait gallery, gathering notes of this chin or that nose. Finally, Caro sat down to sketch. “Is this him, Nancy?”

  Nancy took an instinctive step backward. “Only the look in his eyes should be nastier, my lady. Right mean, through and through.”

  The dressing gong sounded, reminding everyone that it was time to prepare for the evening’s dinner party. “I’ll walk Nancy up to the nursery,” Caro said, handing Nell the paper. “You go get ready to dazzle your fiancé. Since I knew you were going to be here for the party, I brought along some of your London clothes. We can show the sketch to the men after dinner.”

  Nell made her way to her room, clutching the drawing. This was the monster that preyed on children. One way or another, she was determined that his reign of terror was about to end.

  * * *

  Tom watched Belinda shuffle the cards, desperately trying not to feel like an idiot.

  “Think about your question,” she instructed. “Feel it, down to your toes. And be specific in what you ask. The clearer your query, the clearer the answers will be.”

  “That’s part of the problem,” he grumbled. “There’s so much I don’t know that it’s difficult to decide where to begin.”

  “Then either start at the beginning, or with whatever matters most. Whichever you choose, focus on it. Drive every other thought from your mind.”

  What was most important? Whether or not Charlie was his son? Whether or not Tom was genuinely married? How to find the boy? How to stop other children from being taken? The proper one, the one that mattered most, settled into his heart. “I need to know—”

  Belinda waved a hand to stop him. “I said concentrate. Not tell me. Just focus.”

  What should I do? Tom repeated the question over and over in his thoughts.

  “Now shuffle the cards three times then cut the deck.” Belinda handed him the stack of cards and Tom did as he was bid, then handed them back, chanting the query in his head.

  Nell crossed two
cards, facedown, then spread out four cards around them in the shape of a cross, and four more in a straight line. One by one, she flipped them.

  The bottom center card featured a man hanging from a tree by his foot. Crossing that was the image of a giant wheel with mystic symbols. Each card featured a drawing, none of the numbers and suits Tom had been expecting.

  Belinda gasped. “I’ve never, never, seen a spread with so many major arcana. Tom, this is…frightening to say the least.”

  “We already knew this mission was dangerous.” Tom clenched his hands in his lap. “Tell me. Please.”

  “Of course.” She licked her lips. “The hanged man represents you. You’re at a crossroads in your life, whether or not you’re aware of it. This is more than just a mission for you. The outcome could be extremely personal, changing your entire life.”

  That was common knowledge, given the subject of the investigation. Tom waited for her to continue.

  “Moon, reversed. The situation is built on confusion and loss of control, perhaps even the mania of the villain.” Belinda drew a breath. “In the past is a dark, sad woman. I think we both know who that is.”

  Tom tipped his head again at the card of a black-haired woman holding a sword. For a moment he could have sworn he saw Nell’s face superimposed over that of the older woman on the card.

  The next card she pointed to was obvious—the grim reaper. Tom lifted an eyebrow. “Death.”

  “Yes.” Belinda tapped the card. “In the possible future position. But the card doesn’t necessarily mean physical death. It can sometimes represent the end of one life and the beginning of another. It could mean a change in career, for example, or in the fundamental way a person thinks. Marriage, widowhood, a move abroad. Or, it could be a warning of genuine danger. Here, I’d take that as a real possibility.”

  “Of course.” Tom wasn’t stupid enough to ignore any warnings. Still, none of this had given him any suggestions on what to do.

  “The tower can indicate imprisonment. In this case, it’s probably that of the children you’re looking for. But it could also refer to the trap of your marriage. Or, that your search is at a standstill. Someone, or something, is stuck.” She moved to the vertical line of cards. “The devil is an external influence. He can mean a lot of things, many of them nonthreatening, but here, I’d say you’ve a fight in store with the kidnapper. He will do his best to thwart you. The magician reversed represents your internal conflicts, confusion and hesitation. This is a warning, again. Don’t let your doubts get the best of you. Trust your training, your intellect and your heart. When the time to act comes, don’t hesitate.”

  “Understood.” That bit made sense.

  She smiled. “Now, this card is your advice. The emperor is a strong, powerful man. That’s who you can be, dearest. You’re everything implied by the card, when you don’t let your doubts get the best of you. Be the emperor; be strong and bold and don’t give up.” Finally, she held up the last card, a picture of the earth, a broad grin on her face. “Succeed, my friend, and the world is yours. Not literally, of course, but your world will be complete.”

  “That’s great.” Tom couldn’t help a moment of disappointment. “Just not what I was asking for, I guess. I wanted to know where to start looking next.”

  “Is that what you asked?” Belinda lifted an eyebrow. “Precisely what you asked?”

  Tom shook his head. “No. I asked what I should do.”

  “Then you have your answer. Be strong, be bold, trust yourself and don’t hesitate, but keep an eye out for trouble. Based on this reading, I’d guess you already know where to look. You just have to trust that instinct. And when you do find your answer, stick to it and don’t give up.”

  He pondered for a moment. “It all goes back to Cambridge, doesn’t it?”

  Belinda picked up her cards and wrapped them reverently in a silk handkerchief. “I can’t tell you that. My instincts and knowledge aren’t relevant. Yours are. Talk to the others tonight, but trust yourself and make an informed decision. In the meanwhile, we’d both better go and dress for the dinner party, or my sister-in-law will have our hides.” She leaned across the table and gripped Tom’s shoulder. “You’re a good person. Know that, deep in your soul. Don’t let the mistakes you made in your past make you doubt the man you’ve come to be. And remember, you’re not alone. We all love you very much.”

  He stood and leaned over to drop a kiss on her cheek. “Love you too, Belinda. Connor’s a lucky bugger for finding you.”

  “He is.” She beamed. “And I’m so fortunate that Wink didn’t marry him when she had the chance. Sometimes heartbreak leads to better things down the road. Remember, the world awaits you.”

  “I’ll remember.” He left, heading to his own chamber to change into a dinner jacket and white tie. Was she right? Was there really the chance for a happy outcome? He wasn’t sure it was possible, but her record with the cards was impeccable. A faint stirring of hope fluttered in his chest. Perhaps there was something more ahead than a lonely, martial existence as a Knight.

  For the first time in years, a gleam of hope touched his heart.

  Chapter Six

  Although the house party had been put together for the twins’ birthday, this evening’s dinner had quickly become an engagement party for Roger and Nell, which left her feeling something of a fraud as she sat down next to their host and hostess in the coral silk evening gown she’d been thinking of just a day earlier. Bless her mother for having thought to bring it. While Tom’s expression had remained wooden, at least Roger’s eyes had popped. Nell had taken advantage of Caro’s lady’s maid, and her hair was piled high in a sleek style with just a few fat curls falling against her neck, which was accented with a triple strand of pearls to match the large oval ones that hung from her ears. The set had been her twenty-first birthday present from her parents, and they were her favorite jewels. It felt good to know that for a change, she looked her absolute best. Roger had only ever seen her dressed as a teacher.

  Other members of the Order had arrived throughout the day, including Wink’s husband, Liam. Kendall, Marquess of Lake, Merrick’s superior in the Order was part of a larger group, including his wife Amelie, their young son Ned, and Kendall’s parents, the current Duke and Duchess of Trowbridge. Even the dowager duchess, well into her eighties, was there with feathers in her hair. Sebastian Brown, whose cousin was a Knight, worked at Scotland Yard with Liam, had brought with him his wife and two daughters. The only notable absences were Piers and Jamie. Nell missed her younger brothers with all her heart, but it was Charlie she couldn’t put out of her mind. Despite the romantic overtones of the evening, despite being the belle of the ball and having the chance to visit with her friends and family, Nell was anxious to be off, searching for her student. If only she knew where.

  “Tell us about your home in Sussex, Roger.” After several toasts to the newly engaged couple, Melody turned to Roger, seated in the place of honor on her left. “Nell says you plan to give up teaching to run the estate?”

  “That was my intent.” He smiled down the long table at Nell, his eyes twinkling. “I’d have quit the school earlier, but there was something—or rather someone—there whom I didn’t want to leave without.”

  She felt her cheeks heat, though her skin didn’t easily show a blush. “I’m glad you stayed.” Aside from their impending marriage, she’d have missed his friendship horribly at Glenbury, and even more, having a suitor had kept her from feeling as horridly undesirable as had when she’d first fled to Cornwall. “I’ve never spent much time in Sussex, though. Do tell us what it’s like.” It would be so lovely to have a home of her own…and a family. She was growing more and more used to the notion of a life with Roger. She was sure she could see herself with him, sitting fondly beside him as they grew older, surrounded by dark, curly haired children. Perhaps in time he’d agree to the school and to them taking in a child or two to educate with their own future offspring, starting with Nancy and
perhaps Charlie, if they found him and if he didn’t turn out to belong to Tom. For the first time in three years, Nell looked into the future and saw a chance for happiness, beyond just the rewards of teaching.

  Roger continued his description. “The farms are lovely and green. The house is Tudor, not too big nor too small. It has six bedrooms, I believe, plus the nursery, so your family will be able to visit. I’m sure you’ll love it, darling. We’ll want to update things, of course, make it our own. And we’ll be close enough to London to run up whenever we like.” He beamed and Nell couldn’t resist smiling back. He was so genuine. He’d been at home as a schoolteacher and yet seemed eminently comfortable as the sole outsider in a group that included not only several of the kingdom’s most elite, but also several from other walks of life. Mostly, he didn’t seem to care about the fact that he was among people whom most of the world would call freaks, with women who worked and many with uncanny supernatural abilities. How could she not care for a man like that?

  “I can’t wait to see it.” Nell meant every word. “One thing I do miss at the school is the ability to keep a dog or cat.”

  “A whole menagerie, if that’s what you’d like my dear.” Roger waved his hand extravagantly.

  Nell chuckled. “I think a horse and one or two house pets will be quite sufficient. And a room for my piano, of course.”

  She spoke little through the rest of the meal, watching as Roger charmed each of the women and came to terms with the men. By the end of the meal, even her father and Sir Fergus seemed to have given the younger man their stamp of approval.

  The ladies retired to the drawing room for tea, and the others mobbed Nell with questions and more than a few risqué comments. To Melody’s surprise it wasn’t Wink or her mother who made Nell blush, but Geneva.