Olivia looked up at the timid knock on the door. Glancing curiously across to Scarlett she crossed the room and lifted the latch. The quiet little servant woman who’d shown them to their room the night they arrived stood on the other side. She didn’t speak, nor did she look up, instead she thrust a small ragged piece of paper into Olivia’s hand and scuttled away down the passageway.
‘What is it?’ Scarlet asked as she rose from the seat by the window.
‘I don’t know,’ Olivia lifted her brows as she unfolded the paper. The words ‘gentleman caller,’ were scribbled untidily in barely legible letters. ‘Looks like we have a visitor.’ Olivia showed the paper to Scarlett.
They stared at each other for a moment before turning and stepping out into the passageway, closing the door to their room firmly behind them. Lifting their voluminous skirts, they carefully descended the narrow staircase and followed the corridor to the door which led out into the main room.
Olivia had a fairly good idea who was waiting for them, even before they’d stepped into the pub and Elias had turned around, his dark eyes alert but unreadable as they approached. Olivia watched as he removed his hat and smoothed down his wild hair.
‘Olivia,’ he nodded in greeting.
‘Elias,’ she replied, deciding it was probably best to stop referring to him as Logan, as clearly, he’d not gone by that name in a very long time. ‘This is Scarlett,’ she dropped her voice so as not to be overheard, ‘but around here she’s known as Lady…’
‘Lady Rebecca Morgan,’ he nodded, holding out his hand to her politely. ‘I’ve seen you before, at the theater on Drury Lane.’
‘Of course,’ Scarlett murmured; her gray eyes searched his face curiously as she shook his hand. He may have seen her recently but from her perspective she hadn’t been to that particular theater in over a century.
‘Shakespeare’s King John.’
‘I remember,’ Scarlett smiled slowly, ‘terrible wasn’t it?’
‘Indeed,’ Elias’s mouth curved.
‘The theater?’ Olivia repeated.
‘I’m not always insensible Olivia,’ Elias turned to look at her, ‘you just caught me at a bad moment.’
‘Hmm,’ she hummed in her throat noncommittedly. She needed his help, so she wasn’t about to start an awkward conversation regarding his sobriety or lack thereof. ‘Shall we sit?’ Olivia indicated toward an empty booth.
‘Actually,’ Elias replied quietly, ‘would you care to accompany me on a short visit? Lady Rebecca you are most welcome to join us, there’s something I need for you both to see.’
‘We’d be happy to, wouldn’t we?’ she turned to Olivia who nodded silently as she studied Elias. ‘I’ll fetch our coats.’
As Scarlett disappeared back through the door, Elias and Olivia stood staring at each other awkwardly, neither really knowing what to say.
‘Are you well?’ Elias cleared his throat and asked politely, as much to break the silence than as to any real concern about her obvious good health.
‘As much as I can be, I guess,’ she answered, before letting out a heartfelt sigh. ‘I’m just not used to being away from my children for this long… it’s hard.’
‘What are their names?’ he asked quietly.
‘Our daughter is called Theia,’ she smiled softly, ‘and our son… well, his name is Logan.’
Elias’s eyes widened and after a moment his mouth opened but whatever he was going to say was lost as Scarlett re-entered the room wearing her warm velvet jacket and hat. Elias turned away as Scarlett helped Olivia into her own coat, needing a moment to compose himself, reeling from the information that his brother whom he’d always had a very complicated relationship with, had named his son after him.
‘Shall we?’ Olivia spoke briskly.
He turned back to find her securing her own hat with a long thin mother of pearl pin while Scarlett pulled her gloves on.
‘After you,’ he indicated as they exited the pub and stepped back out onto the frozen street.
They walked into the icy morning air, the fresh snow crunching beneath their feet. Elias politely turned to Olivia and offered his arm. She paused for a moment, studying him thoughtfully.
His face had lost some of the gaunt desperation she’d witnessed the night they’d dragged him from the opium den to the Drunken Duck, but his eyes still retained the dark shadows of a man with something weighing on his soul.
His hair was the same beautiful dark waves as her husband, only his was too long to be fashionable and slightly wild, as if it hadn’t seen an actual comb in some days. Likewise, he was sporting an unkempt beard which was walking a fine line between full beard and crazy mountain man. His clothes were wrinkled but of surprisingly good quality given the state of the rest of him.
She tilted her head. He looked so much like Theo it made her heart ache but this man before her, she didn’t know him, other than what Theo had told her and even then, his memories were from the original timeline he came from. This man in front of her was an enigma and for the first time, she began to worry if she was doing the right thing by asking for his help.
‘Olivia,’ his voice was a deep rasp, warm like aged whiskey and strangely enough it settled some of the butterflies in her belly.
She reached out tentatively and slid her arm through his. He nodded in understanding before setting off at a gentle pace. Scarlett, sensing they needed this moment, walked a polite step behind.
‘It’s awkward isn’t it?’ Elias finally muttered.
‘Yeah,’ Olivia agreed, ‘it is… and complicated. I guess I didn’t really think things through when I found you the other night. I was shocked to see you and desperately latching on to any chance of getting home. I’m always jumping in feet first without looking where I’m going to land. Theo is always the one who gets me to slow down and think things through. I guess without him I’ve reverted back to an impulsive force of nature.’
A small smile tugged at the corner of Elias’s mouth.
‘Theo always had that calming nature about him, even when we were children. I was always the hot headed, impulsive one getting into trouble and he was always the one bailing me out.’
‘I guess we have that in common,’ Olivia replied.
‘I suppose we do,’ Elias nodded.
They walked along quietly; the awkwardness apparent.
‘I’m sorry,’ Olivia broke the silence.
‘For what?’ he turned to glance down at her.
‘For just barreling into your life and dragging you out of that place while you were barely conscious, then just expecting you to help me,’ she sighed. ‘Like I said, sometimes I react and just don’t think things through. All I could think of was how much I wanted to go home. It wasn’t until after you were gone that I stopped and thought about what you must be going through. I’m guessing there were reasons you were in an opium den and it was selfish of me to expect you to just brush aside your own problems to help me, so for that I’m sorry.’
‘Thank you,’ Elias stared at the small woman walking at his side.
He could feel the power radiating from her, but she probably wasn’t even aware of it. He’d never been in the presence of such a powerful being before, but underneath the ancient magic which emanated from her, there was a vulnerability and it was that which drew him to her.
‘It’s…’ he took a deep breath and hesitated. He never spoke to anyone about this other than Sam, but oddly he felt a tentative kinship with his brother’s wife.
‘You don’t have to explain,’ she told him softly. ‘I’m not going to pry, but inadvertently we’ve been given this opportunity to get to know each other and it’d be a shame to waste it, don’t you think?’
She was right, he thought to himself. He’d been by himself for so long, perhaps it might be nice to share the burden with someone who might actually understand.
‘It’s been a rough couple of years,’ he finally admitted, ‘decades actually.’
‘Then I
blast in like a tornado and drop a house on you,’ Olivia shook her head.
‘I don’t understand the reference,’ Elias frowned.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Olivia shook her head and smiled, ‘it’s about a hundred years too early.’
‘You throw that about so casually,’ he replied in disbelief.
‘It’s not the first time, I’ve been hurled through time,’ she breathed. ‘Salem was the first time and it was a bit of a shock to the system, a bit like plunging into icy water, but I had Theo with me, so it kinda softened the blow if you know what I mean.’
‘Yes, I suspect it would have,’ Elias mused. ‘He’s always been the calm at the eye of the storm.’
‘I’m sorry we got you killed,’ Olivia winced quietly, ‘back in Salem.’
Elias stared ahead for a few moments before finally releasing a slow breath.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ he shook his head as they continued to walk slowly, ‘Stephen and I always loathed each other. It would have come to a violent end one way or another, besides I think by that point Nathaniel was beginning to become suspicious of me. If it hadn’t been Stephen sliding a knife between my ribs, it would have been Nathaniel. Either way my time in Salem was over.’
‘It wasn’t actually Stephen,’ Olivia replied as Elias turned his head toward her. ‘It was a demon named Zachary who was wearing him like a sock puppet. If it makes you feel any better Theo killed him, and not just killed, obliterated his soul. He can never come back; he no longer exists.’
Elias grunted quietly.
‘Marginally better,’ he added grudgingly.
‘Do you really not know what happened?’ she asked curiously. ‘I mean how you were brought back?’
‘No,’ Elias answered honestly, ‘and I’ve devoted the last hundred years trying to figure it out.’
‘And you don’t age,’ she clarified, trying to understand.
‘Or die,’ Elias elaborated at her confused frown. ‘I’ve been stabbed, shot, drowned, poisoned, suffocated, the list is endless. It hurts like hell and then I wake up, always the same.’
‘Hell,’ Olivia breathed heavily, ‘no wonder you’ve been crawling down the rabbit hole every chance you get.’
‘It’s the lack of answers that’s so frustrating. Immortality with no purpose, is a long and bitter pill to swallow.’
‘I can imagine,’ she nodded. ‘I want to help you Elias.’
He glanced down at her once again, his dark eyes searching.
‘No strings attached.’
‘Why?’ he asked after a moment.
‘Well Theo would tell you it’s because I can’t keep my nose out of other people’s business and he’s partly right. I do love a good mystery but it’s more than that. I can see how much this is messing you up and because… even though we don’t know each other that well, we’re family and I don’t know about you, but I don’t have much family left.’
His jaw tightened and for a moment Olivia thought he might respond but instead he stopped and looked up at the shabby storefront which proclaimed in faded white lettering, T.R Billingsworth, Taxidermist.
‘This is it,’ Elias headed for the door.
‘This?’ Olivia wrinkled her nose in distaste, ‘this is what you wanted us to see? A bunch of dead, stuffed animals?’
‘Not exactly,’ his lips twitched in amusement as he opened the door for Olivia and Scarlett to step through.
‘If you say so,’ Olivia replied unconvinced.
But as Olivia stepped over the threshold the strangest thing occurred. Instead of finding herself inside a shabby room, filled with stale air and dead creatures, she found herself stepping out the other side onto a different street.
She turned to look back only to find Scarlett standing beside her, unconcerned, as if this was an everyday occurrence as Elias also stepped out of an entirely different shop, this one a milliner’s, by the name of H.S Peabody, and closed the door firmly behind him.
‘It’s another entranceway,’ Scarlett explained at her confused expression. ‘We’re no longer in the Underside but back in regular old London.’
Olivia glanced down the bustling street, surrounded by sooty brick buildings and filled with people going about their business.
‘Where in London?’ she asked curiously.
Scarlett glanced around.
‘Somewhere in Pall Mall by the looks of it,’ she murmured thoughtfully.
‘You have an excellent sense of direction Lady Rebecca,’ Elias stepped up beside them. ‘If you would follow me, it isn’t far.’
‘What isn’t?’ Olivia replied.
‘Our destination,’ Elias supplied.
‘Which is?’
‘The British Institution,’ Scarlett answered for him as she glanced up and recognized the building they were approaching.
‘Correct again,’ Elias nodded in approval.
Olivia looked up at the tall narrow building sandwiched in between two others, as they approached the black railings in front of it. There was a wide semi-circular paneled window surmounting the elegant double front doors, framed by a pale colored stone archway, decorated either side by stone wreaths. Above it were four Corinthian style columns, two each side flanking a stone carved bas relief of a naked man draped modestly and being tended either side by two females. Above it was a triangular pediment. All in all, it was a rather elegant attempt at capturing the magnificence of ancient Greek architecture.
Olivia stepped through the door, and her footsteps, no longer muffled by snow, echoed loudly on the wooden floor and bounced off the walls of the foyer.
‘Excuse me! Excuse me!’ a short rotund man puffed into view hurrying across the foyer, his face reddened with a slight sheen of sweat as he smoothed down his waistcoat beneath his immaculate jacket. ‘I’m afraid the galleries are not open to the public today,’ he glanced down at Elias’s unkept appearance in disdain.
Elias’s gaze slowly slid across to the large elaborate sign stating that the galleries were indeed open for public viewing on Mondays through Thursdays. He slowly turned his gaze toward the shorter man, his brow raising slowly.
‘Ahem,’ the man tilted his chin, ‘not today. I hardly think this is your sort of place, so be a good fellow and move along.’
Elias didn’t respond, he merely stood staring over the portly man’s shoulder to a taller slimmer man who was hurrying along behind him.
‘Mr Black,’ the new man greeted, rushing past the other man so quickly he stumbled back with a splutter of indignation. ‘Mr Black,’ he held out his hand, ‘so good to see you again.’
‘Mr Hope,’ Elias reached and shook the other man’s hand.
‘Mr Black? Elias Black?’ the short dumpy man swallowed, his face paling somewhat.
‘Mr Hope,’ Elias stepped back to reveal Olivia and Scarlett who’d been standing behind him, ‘may I present Lady Rebecca Morgan and Mrs Olivia Beckett.’
‘We are honored Lady Morgan,’ Mr Hope’s eyes widened as he took Scarlett’s hand, utterly transfixed by her, and for one ridiculous moment Olivia was sure the tall skinny man was going to break into a curtsey.
Reluctantly Mr Hope released Scarlett.
‘Mrs Beckett, how do you do,’ he took Olivia’s hand.
‘Very well thank you,’ Olivia nodded withdrawing her hand.
‘I would like to show my companions the Vanitas collection if I may?’ Elias told him frankly, which was less a request and more a statement of intention.
‘But of course,’ Mr Hope smiled widely, ‘all the collections are at your disposal anytime. Would you like me to escort you?’ he glanced hopefully in Scarlett’s direction.
‘That won’t be necessary Mr Hope,’ Elias offered one arm to Scarlett and the other to Olivia. ‘I know the way’ he threw over his shoulder as he led them through the foyer and up the main staircase.
‘Why do I get the impression you’re not as destitute as you like people to think you are?’ Olivia’s eyes narrowed sus
piciously as he led them through the galleries.
‘I never said I was destitute,’ he replied. ‘Just because I choose to live a certain way, it doesn’t mean I have no resources of my own. You can’t live as long as I have without accumulating a certain amount of wealth.’
‘Uh huh,’ she replied slowly, ‘how much wealth?’
‘Olivia!’ Scarlett scolded, ‘that question is in incredibly poor taste.’
‘I was just curious,’ she shrugged.
‘Would you like an exact figure right down to the last guinea?’ Elias chuckled.
‘No,’ Olivia smiled. ‘So, what are these Vanitas things you want us to see? I’m guessing they’re paintings?’
‘Vanitas is a type of symbolic art,’ Scarlett told her, ‘like Memento Mori.’
‘Don’t know what that is either,’ she shook her head. ‘My area of expertise is history not art.’
‘Lady Rebecca is correct as usual,’ Elias nodded. ‘Vanitas generally depicts the transience of life and the futility of pleasure.’
‘Sounds depressing.’
‘Some might think so, given that they usually contain symbols of ephemerality and death,’ Elias replied, ‘but there’s one in particular we’re here to see.’
He led them to a rather large, heavily framed oil painting.
‘This is the Allegory of Vanity by Antonio de Pereda,’ he told them as they stopped and glanced up at the painting.
The background was black but sitting dead center behind two tables was an angel. Olivia turned to glance at Scarlett, but her expression was unreadable. Turning her attention back to the painting she stared. The angel was either a female or a very effeminate male, with pale skin and softly rouged cheeks, reddish blonde hair and great tawny feathered wings. They were wearing a gown or robe, again, Olivia wasn’t sure which, of crushed dusty pink silk. A wide sash of deep blue hung from one shoulder and there was an embellished heavy golden brooch, with a teardrop pearl secured at the neck.
To the right of the figure was a globe and beside that stood a tall clock in the shape of a heavily gilded building. To the left was a tall candlestick, a long musket and a pile of human skulls scattered across two heavy books. Scattered across the crimson and gold edged tablecloth were a handful of bronze and silver coins, and a string of pearls.
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