Wondering Sight (The Extraordinaries Book 2)

by Melissa McShane

  The press of people was increasing rather than decreasing, and Sophia was about to suggest they move to a more sheltered corner when Cecy staggered, then began to turn to look behind her, and Sophia grabbed her and pulled her to one side before her rational mind fully comprehended the danger: the man standing behind Cecy, a perfectly ordinary-looking man except for the large knife in his hand, was lunging at her with his arm outstretched.

  Sophia screamed, causing Lewis to look around at them, and the attacker slashed at Cecy’s stomach. More screams erupted from the crowd as others saw her assailant. Both Sophia and Cecy took several steps backward, stumbling as they ran into other people who shoved them back toward the knife-wielding man in their own attempts to get away. It was like being caught by a tide that flowed in all directions at once, and Sophia tried to keep hold of Cecy, afraid of what might happen if they were torn apart.

  Lewis roared something, and flung himself at his wife’s assailant, Shaping himself as he went. Muscles flexed against the fabric of his coat and his knee breeches as his body responded to his need for strength and agility, and he flung people out of his way as if they were dolls whose well-being he had no care for. Sophia saw the attacker’s expression go from an eerie dispassion to stunned horror; he threw down the knife and began pushing his way through the crowd, trying to escape an enraged Lewis.

  “Sophia, I don’t feel well,” Cecy said, grabbing at the front of Sophia’s fur-lined pelisse and bearing Sophia down with her as she collapsed on the street. Her face in the light of the lamps turning the theatre’s façade yellow-white was pale, her pupils dilated, and Sophia’s throat felt suddenly tight. She searched Cecy’s body for injury and found none, though a long tear in the back of her coat left her breathless and lightheaded with fear. She put her arms around Cecy, who clung to her, breathing heavily. “I feel so dizzy,” Cecy added, very quietly, as if words were too difficult to produce.

  “You are uninjured, dearest, this is nothing but the shock of being attacked,” Sophia said, easing her friend into a more comfortable position and waving away men and women who crowded around. “No, she will be well, it is nothing,” she told them, “please do not try to lift her, she only needs air.”

  The crowd diminished not at all. So many people, gawking at the spectacle, Sophia thought, and raised her left hand high, fingers spread wide, and heard the murmuring change tone as the spectators registered the red glove. “Back away now,” she shouted, and finally they heeded her, and Sophia and Cecy were at the center of a rapidly widening empty circle of pavement.

  “These ridiculous things are useful for something,” she told Cecy, who nodded. She was breathing slowly in a manner that told Sophia she was using all her concentration to remain conscious. Sophia held her tighter and wished Lewis had not gone after the attacker; they needed to take Cecy home immediately, call Dr. Garland, put her to bed and pray she would not have an episode after all this.

  The crowd shifted to reveal Lewis, moving more slowly now and breathing easily. “The fiend must know this area well,” he said, “because he certainly could not outrun me, but I lost track of him after only three turns. Cecilia, darling, look at me. Sophia, did he injure her?”

  Sophia shook her head. “She is simply overwhelmed. Where is the carriage? It cannot possibly take this long for Peter to return!”

  “I’ll find him.” Lewis stretched and made a pained face. His body was returning to its usual proportions, but he would pay for his too-rapid transformation with exhaustion and severe muscle aches and cramps tomorrow. By the look on his face when he looked at his suffering wife, it was a debt he did not regret incurring. He strode off into the crowd, which made way for him almost as quickly as they had for the red gloves; none of the people he had shoved aside seemed inclined to complain to him about it.

  Sophia rubbed the back of Cecy’s neck and helped her stay upright, though by the time Lewis returned, she was leaning less heavily on Sophia and her color had started to return.

  “I feel so foolish,” she said when they were all in the carriage. “It is not as if he hurt me.”

  “It was terrifying, and your reaction was perfectly normal,” Sophia said.

  “I wish I’d caught the coward. I cannot believe he was able to attack you in public like that. What could have possessed him?” Lewis said.

  Sophia looked across at Cecy where she was tucked under Lewis’s arm. “I do not believe it was a random attack,” she said.

  “Not—” Lewis sat up straighter. “You mean Lord Endicott might have been behind it?”

  “Except I cannot imagine why he would attack Cecy,” Sophia said. “He cannot possibly know her involvement.”

  “He knows we are friends,” Cecy said.

  Sophia thought of the dismembered butterfly, and once again felt colder than the weather warranted. “He meant to torture me,” she said. “Killing you, Cecy—he knows what that would do to me, not only your death but your death as retaliation for my attacks on him. He would rather see me suffer than protect his enterprise, or that blade would have been aimed at me.”

  “He is a monster,” Cecy said.

  “Yes, and a monster with power,” Sophia said. “He knows where to strike at me. Cecy, we cannot continue.”

  “What? Sophia, after everything we have done, to let him go unpunished?”

  “What else am I to do? Your life is far more important.”

  “We can protect me. I do not go out often, and Lewis is strong and alert to any danger. I will simply never be alone in places where a stranger can approach me.”

  “My love, you know I would do anything to protect you, but I believe Sophia is right,” Lewis said. “Lord Endicott’s crimes will not go unnoticed forever. Someone will bring him to justice.”

  I should be that someone, Sophia thought, but said, “Cecy, we have already struck many blows at him. We can let this rest.”

  Cecy abruptly turned her head to look out the window. “Then he has made me his tool,” she said, her voice furious.

  “What? No, Cecy—”

  “Then what else would you call it? His hostage? His weapon? I refuse to let him use me like that. I am not a thing, to be used to do evil against my will. I am so often helpless because of my condition, and he would make me even more so. No, Sophia, we are not giving up this fight. You will Dream to learn if Lord Endicott intends to make more attempts on my life, and we will act on those Dreams, and Lord Endicott will be brought to justice by us. And if you try to give up out of some ridiculous idea of protecting me, Daphne and I will simply continue without you.”

  “Daphne would never be so foolish.” Even as the words escaped her lips, Sophia knew they were false. Daphne lived for being that kind of foolish. “And if she were,” she went on quickly, seeing Cecy shaping a retort, “I am certain I could argue… never mind.”

  “You see? I am invariably logical when I am right.”

  “Lewis, talk sense into her,” Sophia said.

  Lewis was quiet for a while. Then he said, “I believe this endeavor of yours has just become ten times as dangerous as it was. I also believe there is no reason to believe Lord Endicott will leave off tormenting you, and threatening the ones you love, simply because you stop pursuing him. As dangerous as trying to destroy his organization is, it will likely be more dangerous to leave him free to commit whatever crimes he chooses. I can protect Cecilia. You three should continue as you have been.”

  “Lewis, if he manages to kill Cecy—”

  “Don’t you believe you will be able to predict when the next attack comes? Sophia, this is the only sensible thing to do.”

  Sophia leaned back in her seat and sighed. “All right,” she said. “But at the moment I feel doubly discouraged. I still do not know how to break past Baines’ resistance.”

  “You have only been trying for three days,” Cecy said. “Give it time.”

  “I am afraid time is something we do not have,” Sophia said.

  In which Sophia has t
wo unsatisfactory encounters

  ophia did not need to enter the door with King’s face superimposed upon it to know what it held. She laid her palm against it anyway. She was in some sense responsible for his fate, though she felt no guilt—he was, after all, a criminal, and a despicable man—and it seemed fitting she should witness his end.

  Am I so inured to violence, she thought, looking at his body, dangling from a makeshift rope attached to nothing, that I am neither disgusted nor horrified by this? But it gives me no pleasure, either. I wonder how long it will take his victims to realize they are free? Had Lord Endicott found a way to silence his now inconvenient Seer, or had King chosen this way out to avoid a more public humiliation and death? In either case, he could no longer indict Lord Endicott, which left Sophia’s nemesis free to continue his campaign to torment her.

  “King is dead,” she told Lewis and Cecy at the breakfast table.

  “Was it murder?” Cecy asked.

  “I don’t know. That seems likely. I wonder if Lord Endicott feels safer now?”

  “He is not safe as long as you are on his trail,” Lewis said. “It worries me that he has not made another attack in the last three days.”

  “We have gone nowhere but to church in the last three days,” Cecy pointed out, “and I believe he is not yet desperate enough to send marauders into our home.”

  “You have just given me the most appalling image,” Sophia said. “Is that something we should fear?”

  Lewis cleared his throat. “That has already occurred to me,” he said, “and I have gone over the house with Traviss and the footmen, ensuring the locks are secure and the ground floor windows are firmly barred. I have told the staff only that I have heard rumors of burglaries in nearby neighborhoods and am taking precautions. But I’m afraid they have heard some of our conversations—I don’t know what they make of them, but they already know I will not tolerate gossip, so I believe we need not worry that news of our actions will spread. At any rate, we are proof against a casual attempt at forced entry, and if it comes to it, I will hire protection.”

  “I’m glad you are thinking along those lines, because I certainly was not,” Sophia said. It frightened her that she had been so focused on her efforts to predict Baines’ movements that she had forgotten about the need for such basic precautions. “Thank you, Lewis.”

  “It’s for my own peace of mind as anything else,” Lewis said. “Though I’m vain enough to want this all settled soon. This new form is so unfamiliar I feel I hardly know myself.”

  “I believe you look wonderful no matter what form you take,” Cecy said. Lewis smiled and shook his head. Sophia privately agreed with Cecy; Lewis was taller now by an inch or so, and broader in the chest and shoulders, and his muscles were larger and more well defined, though his new wardrobe mostly concealed the latter. He looked perfectly capable of throwing an intruder through a second-story window without straining himself.

  “Then you will escort us to Lord and Lady Ormerod’s ball tonight?” Cecy continued.

  “I will, and I hope you appreciate the sacrifice, as you know I dislike dancing.”

  “You danced often with me, when we first met, and I believe you are an excellent dancer.”

  Lewis winked at Cecy. “But now I have caught you, and need not dance anymore.”

  “Then we are perfectly matched, for I do not enjoy dancing either. Sophia will have to dance enough for the three of us.”

  “That is quite a burden to bear,” Sophia said, “but I will try not to be overwhelmed by it.”

  Three glittering chandeliers cast their brilliant light over Lord Ormerod’s spacious ballroom, with its high trompe l’oeil ceiling rimmed with gold and the windows turned into mirrors by that light. Sophia admired her pale, wavering reflection in one of those windows; the yellow tint to the light turned her hair bronze and her red gown dark orange. She adjusted her hem and turned away, wondering if anyone had seen her moment of vanity, and realized she didn’t care if they had.

  She felt unaccountably cheerful tonight—yes, Cecy was probably still in danger, and Sophia was still unable to predict Baines’s movements or find the printing press, and she would still be the center of uncomfortable attention tonight, but for some reason she was undisturbed by these realities. She had gained many more acquaintances since her arrival in London last September, women she could converse with, men she could dance with. Her worries could take themselves off elsewhere for the night.

  “Mrs. Westlake, how do you do this evening?” Lady Ormerod held out a hand for Sophia to take. She was a tall woman garbed elegantly in rust-colored velvet the mirrored windows would no doubt turn orange. “I am so pleased to welcome you here tonight.”

  “Thank you for the invitation, Lady Ormerod,” Sophia said. “Your home is so beautiful.”

  “Lord Ormerod is very proud of his art collection,” Lady Ormerod said. “I must warn you, he intends to ask you to exert your influence on Mr. Barham to induce him to part with that scrimshaw he so admired on our last visit. Please do not be offended.”

  “I am never offended by Lord Ormerod. He is always so affable,” Sophia said. “Though he will be disappointed, as I know Mr. Barham is very fond of that piece.”

  “Well, Lord Ormerod will simply have to master his disappointment,” Lady Ormerod said with a smile that to anyone else would have looked disdainful; Sophia had known the viscountess long enough to be aware that her Ladyship’s long nose and narrow eye gave her an appearance that, combined with her tendency toward formality, made her seem haughtier than she was.

  “I know you dislike having a fuss made over you,” Lady Ormerod continued, hooking her arm through Sophia’s and drawing her closer so as to speak into her ear, “but I thought you would not mind if I made one arrangement for your benefit.”

  “That is so kind of you! What arrangement—or is it to be a secret?”

  “Not a secret from you, of course. I can see how you might want your privacy protected. No one will know I made a particular effort to invite Lord Endicott here tonight.”

  Sophia’s cheerful buoyancy turned to lead. “Lord Endicott?” she managed.

  “And I am so pleased for you, my dear. After your husband’s death—well, we need not speak of it further. I assure you no one will hear anything of your attachment from me until you are ready to make it public.”

  “But—Lady Ormerod, where did you hear it?”

  Lady Ormerod smiled at her again, and this time Sophia could not help but see it as a sneer. “I do have eyes, Mrs. Westlake. Lord Endicott pays you the most particular attention whenever you are together, and he never so much as smiles pleasantly on any of the women who try to catch his eye. Though I should warn you, my dear, you should moderate your appearance of indifference to him. Keeping a secret is one thing, but one might almost believe you dislike him!”

  “I… will remember that, Lady Ormerod.”

  So Lord Endicott would be here. Sophia’s first impulse was to find Cecy and flee. Meeting him under these conditions was intolerable. Then Sophia met Lady Ormerod’s eyes again. The woman was so innocently pleased for Sophia that she became infuriated. It was one thing for Lord Endicott to torment her, but now he was drawing her friends into his ruse. Lady Ormerod did not deserve to be used so. “Thank you for thinking so kindly of me.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing, really. Lord Endicott is a pleasant guest. I only wish I could feel I had made the match myself. Did you know Lord Ormerod’s cousin, the Earl of Enderleigh, met Lady Enderleigh for the first time here in our home? Though I don’t know that I had anything to do with that either, but it is so exciting to see love blossom, is it not?”

  Sophia nodded, and let herself smile—a real smile, though not caused by the simple emotion Lady Ormerod no doubt believed it was. “I look forward to this evening with great pleasure,” she said.

  And it was a great pleasure. She moved through the ballroom, greeting acquaintances and friends with a restored good cheer, allowing
herself to be amused rather than angry at the thought that many of them, like Lady Ormerod, believed her in love with Lord Endicott. What would he do if she avowed the truth of their “engagement”? He is insane; he would likely do something unexpected and mad. This cooled her amusement somewhat. He had tried to have Cecy killed; he had ruined Sophia’s reputation with the War Office; he might do anything to protect himself. He was dangerous, and she needed to remember that. But she would not let fear prevent her from destroying him.

  She danced, and danced again, and while moving through the steps of the third dance saw Lord Endicott in the crowd, watching her. He had Shaped his face to show a subtle blend of emotions—desire, admiration, and a hint of sorrow. It was the perfect expression of unrequited love. The absurdity of their situation struck her for the first time, and as she passed near him, she bestowed a brilliant smile on him that made his expression wobble. He thought to discomfit her tonight. She would turn his ploy against him.

  When the dance was over, Sophia returned to Cecy’s side, fanning herself with her hand and laughing harder than was warranted over something her partner had said. Cecy gave her a dubious look, and said, “You are far too cheerful tonight—” Then her gaze passed beyond Sophia, and she clutched at her gown, saying in a low voice, “ ‘Ware the enemy—”

  “Mrs. Westlake, good evening,” Lord Endicott said. “Mrs. Barham, such a pleasure to see you well.”

  “Good evening, my lord!” Sophia exclaimed. “I had no idea you would be here! Such a pleasant surprise.” She took his hand before he could offer it to her. “It seems we never see one another anymore.”

  “No—that is, I have not had the pleasure recently,” Lord Endicott said. He sounded not at all startled by Sophia’s aggressive friendliness. “Dare I hope this means you will dance with me?”

  “I would like nothing better,” Sophia declared, and patted his hand in an affectionate way. A brief scowl distorted his handsome features, so swiftly Sophia doubted anyone but herself had seen it. Then he smiled again and led her to where the dancers were taking their places.