Catspell

by Colleen Shannon

  Straight into an uproar. Arielle, her cheeks red, arms akimbo, cobwebs bedecking her shining dark hair and dust on her gown, glared at the army of servants her father employed. And they glared back.

  Maids scampered toward the stairs, arms laden with dusting cloths and beeswax. Footmen carried brooms of every length and type, but a few of them looked as if they’d as lief use them on their mistress as cobwebs. They dragged toward the stairs. One said, “But miss, your father banned us from even cleaning that room.”

  Arielle scowled, looking a bit like her imperious father at that moment. “I am sole heir to this house, and very near my majority, so I have some say in that too. And I say you are to clean my mother’s salon. Immediately!”

  Shelly glanced around for the butler or the housekeeper but both were missing. Several footmen looked at her pleadingly,

  Arielle stamped her foot, perforce putting most of her weight upon her bad leg. She was so agitated however, that she scarcely seemed to feel it. “It shall be my mother’s salon, and it shall be ready by nightfall, all the dust covers removed and every scrap of furniture shining, or by heaven heads shall roll!”

  Shelly gawked at her. Arielle had always had a streak of wildness beneath her demure, innocent exterior, but now she was a veritable virago. She put a gentle hand on Arielle’s shoulder and felt the girl’s trembling. When Arielle turned to her hopefully, Shelly nodded at the head footman. “Please do as she asks. We shall get the earl’s approval upon his return.” And with a wink she added, “If any heads roll it shall be my own.”

  Grumbling but obedient, the small army of servants marched upstairs.

  As soon as they were alone Shelly patted a lower stair and sat down. When Arielle sat beside her, Shelly said gravely, “I presume we have Madame Aurora conducting a seance tonight?” At Arielle’s nod, Shelly sighed. “Your father will be most displeased with you, and I cannot say I blame him in this instance. To retain her you must have gone alone to her place of residence.”

  Arielle grabbed Shelly’s hands. “Make Father understand, Shelly, please? If I can only speak to my mother, find out why she haunts my dreams and why she…she…I know I can sleep better and not feel so agitated.”

  Squeezing Arielle’s hands, Shelly said gently, “Quite apart from the dangers to you personally, my dear, you must be aware that the odds of actually encountering your dear departed mother are very slim indeed. I have been to six of the seven continents. From voodoo priests in Jamaica to shamans in Africa, closer inspection always revealed some sort of mechanism or hypnosis used to make the participants believe they are seeing an incarnation of a loved one. I have personally participated in several seances since my arrival in England, and always there is some sort of projection method involved.”

  Arielle pulled Shelly to her feet. “I am aware of that, but there will be no curtain, no table cloth on the table, no drapes or hidden compartments. Just a plain bare table in the middle of the room. I’m even having the drapes removed. Come. See for yourself.”

  And that is where the earl and Ethan found them, watching as the servants removed dusty, sun bleached velvet drapes and cleaned the diamond paned windows until angels seemed to dance upon the now gleaming hardwood floor.

  The earl stopped upon the threshold, stunned, Ethan o n his heels. He glanced around at the formerly grim and darkened salon, now transformed into a place of light and life. The apoplectic rage began to fade from his face as he stared at his daughter. She stood in a patch of that sunlight, radiant as the rays themselves, staring down at her mother’s picture, which she’d pulled from her pocket.

  Such joy and hope in a face that seldom expressed either..Shelly was touched to see the transformation in the earl. If ever she’d harbored one niggling doubt of his regard for his daughter, it was banished by the look on his face.

  He walked to Arielle and pulled her under his arm, kissing her brow. “If we do this thing, allow this woman into our home, will you leave it be? Will you put her picture away and get on with your own life? Go to the occasional ball and meet young men?”

  “Yes, father.” She stuck the picture back in her pocket. “I promise.”

  And perhaps it was Shelly’s imagination, but it seemed to her that the angels dancing through the diamond paned windows skittered faster in a dance of joy. She looked toward the window, glimpsing a small cat, one that looked remarkably like a civet that she’d seen in Africa. Staring into the room from a tree outside. For an instant, their eyes met, its green gaze inimical, and Shelly knew beyond any doubt that it was not an ordinary cat and had, in fact, used its acute hearing to eavesdrop.

  By the time Ethan turned to look, too, the cat had disappeared and Shelly was checking the window locks and verifying that the doors had stout locks. They exchanged a look. Despite herself, Shelly asked softly, “You will be here tonight?”

  “Of course, my very dear lady. Of course.”

  For once, Shelly didn’t mind being called his very dear lady. Despite the touching tableau between the earl and his daughter, and the thorough cleaning of the grimy room, Shelly had a feeling that tonight would be a turning point in Arielle’s fate.

  For good. Or ill.

  She’d need all of the help she could get to help protect Arielle from her own untapped powers….

  In the lower salon off the soaring vestibule, the night certainly began merrily enough. While the earl, dour in black, was merely grudgingly cordial to the outlandish Madame Aurora, who was attired in virulent purple with a turban swathed in the signs of the zodiac, Arielle was so eager and welcoming that her enthusiasm spilled over onto the others present at the gathering.

  Smiling at her gaiety as she chatted with the psychic, Ethan stood quietly watching in that objective, observant way of his, his brandy shifter whirling in his hand. He occasionally sniffed the aroma of the aged French brandy, as if the fumes gave him inspiration, if not illumination.

  Shelly had forced herself, for once, into a semblance of propriety for a matron in her fifties who supported herself as a companion. She wore grey serge trimmed demurely with white lace cuffs and even carried a matching kerchief. She inserted a ‘La’ here and there in her part of the conversation, and even managed a small shriek as Madame Aurora told the tale of her last seance.

  “The Dead Duke was the same in death as he’d been in life, more’s the pity, leering down the bodice of every attractive young female at the table save his own wife.”

  Shelly simpered, “Ah, men will be men even in the afterlife, it seems, the poor dears.”

  The quirk at Ethan’s mouth deepened. He lifted his glass to her in a toast at her play acting ability. The way his gaze wandered over her, however, seemed to justify her remark.

  Madame Aurora nodded sagely. “We carry our hopes and dreams, however venal or foolish, into the world beyond. That is why it is so vital to make the present as clear as possible so we can see our way as we enter that golden palace.”

  Shelly fanned her kerchief before herself, nodding in agreement despite her urge to slap the silly woman.

  “Yes, yes, very fine and all that,” the earl interrupted with an harrump, “but let us proceed with this…this event.”

  The entire gathering, including Madame Aurora, heard the true appellation he attached: charade.

  Madame Aurora swigged the last of her sherry and set her wine glass down with a snap on a Chinese lacquered commode. “I shall be happy to give you references. I have performed a seance for the royal family.”

  “Yes, well, we all know the Queen is so besotted and foolish over her Albert that she’d hire the devil himself to commune with her dear departed.” The earl glared over his daughter’s head at Madame Aurora, who was so affronted that the feather on the front of her turban was quivering.

  Arielle put a hand on her father’s arm. “Please, Father, you agreed to let the seance take place. What purpose does this antagonism serve but to make things more unpleasant?”

  Bravo, my dear, Shelly said in
wardly, pleased at the growing maturity in her charge. She also had noted that of late Arielle’s limp was barely noticeable. In a strange way, the more the marks of her astral projections marred her flesh, the stronger she seemed to become.

  The earl, too, seemed impressed at his daughter’s gentle set down. “Quite right, my dear, quite right. I can only excuse my churlish behavior by saying that I’m very worried about you.” He turned to Madame Aurora. “My apologies, Madame. I meant no offense.”

  She nodded regally. “None taken, sir. It is both admirable and right that you should worry about your daughter’s well being. But if I may reassure you, while sometimes the spirit world can be malevolent, I have never in all my years of conducting seances seen a mother wish her own child harm. However, I do admit to one caveat: Consider me a conduit only. I do not sit in judgment nor offer redemption. I merely interpret what I am told by your dear departed, whether the news is welcome or unwelcome.”

  The earl nodded shortly and turned to lead the way upstairs. Shelly and Ethan moved to follow but Arielle kept anxiously checking the mantle clock. “Not yet, Father. We have another guest.”

  Shelly noted Madame Aurora also made no move toward the stairs, glancing surreptitiously at the door. When a knock sounded, she seemed to relax so slightly that only Shelly observed it. So it was with extreme interest that Shelly watched the butler answer the door and usher in Seth Taub.

  As always, he carried his lion headed cane, and as always, he was immaculate in white cravat and black tails. Now that she thought of it, Shelly realized she’d never seen him dressed in anything but black. He doffed his top hat and offered his cloak to the butler, but when the man also went to take the cane, he hooked it over his arm.

  When he entered the salon, he made a slight bow to all present. “Please forgive my tardiness.”

  The earl glared at him. “What the devil are you here for?”

  Arielle went to offer her hand to Seth. “Thank you for coming, sir.” She lifted her chin, looked at her father and said, “I invited him, Father. He was a wonderful help to me in finding Madame Aurora.” Her father harrumped his appreciation of that, but Arielle had eyes only for Seth.

  He held her proffered hand a bit longer than propriety required, so much taller and stronger than Arielle that his presence seemed to fill the huge salon. Indeed, as Shelly narrowed her eyes, for the barest instant it seemed as if his shadow grew against the wall, elongating and….Shelly blinked rapidly and the lion disappeared. She glanced at Ethan, but he was intent on the man and girl, and had obviously noticed nothing unusual. Shelly glanced at Madame Aurora, wondering if the woman had somehow planted the notion in her brain. She sensed that the medium knew Seth, but if so, what was the connection? More to the point, Seth Taub obviously stood something to gain from this performance.

  Wary anew, she looked back at Seth, but he was carefully appraising his surroundings. He examined the windows, the curtains, even the ledges outside and the trees brushing against the panes. Almost as if he expected someone–or something–to sneak inside.

  The earl looked as if the words tasted bitter, but he forced himself to be the proper host. “Might I get you something to drink, Mr. Taub?”

  “Seth, please. And no, since I was late, I, too, prefer to proceed with the seance.”

  Nodding his appreciation, the earl of Darby led the way upstairs.

  Seth offered his arm to Arielle. She took it, smiling radiantly. As she walked at his side, Shelly noted her charge scarcely limped. She should have been pleased by this fact, but somehow it troubled her. Madame Aurora followed the pair up the stairs, leaving Shelly and Ethan to bring up the rear.

  “They make a handsome couple, do they not?” Ethan murmured.

  “Handsome is as handsome does.”

  He quirked that sensuous mouth as he did when he teased her. “I had not thought you subject to cliches, my dear. You are a true original.”

  Shelly speeded up ahead of him, vowing not to let him distract her with his teasing. If ever she needed total concentration it was now. She had long ago learned to trust her instincts, and those shouted that Arielle’s blithe determination to commune with the netherworld was dangerous, certainly for the girl, but perhaps for all of them.

  As they traversed the second set of stairs to the third story, a closet door off the entryway that had been not quite, but almost closed, creaked open. A tiny, furry paw shoved the heavy door ajar with uncommon strength for the scrawny orange tabby kitten that stood there. It sat on its haunches for a moment, licking its paw to clean its face, one side, the other side.

  After grooming its sides and belly, as if it wanted to look its best, it stretched languidly. Only then did it look up the stairs. Even in the brightly lit entry way, the tabby’s eyes glowed bright green. Then, so fast it was a blur, it streaked up the stairs, the shadow cast upon the wall much larger.

  More menacing.

  The shadow of a lion….

  The small salon was isolated in the guest wing of the house three stories above, but its recent cleaning and the removal of all the drapes had chased some of the gloom away. The sparkling diamond paned windows allowed in some lighting from the gas lamps in the courtyard below. However, that gas lighting had not been extended to this seldom used part of the house.

  Ethan noted that candelabras flickered brightly on the huge round table in the room’s center, and sconces glowed from the walls. But despite the servants’ best efforts, the high ceilinged room could not be polished or lit enough to disguise its true ambiance. Shadows lurked in its farthest reaches. As if the room itself were determined to maintain an aura of mystery immune to the best human stratagems. My tragedies, it seemed to whisper, might be long forgotten, but my secrets will also remain untold.

  Hitherto this moment, Ethan had viewed the seance as something of a lark. But looking between Arielle’s excited face, the earl’s grimness, Seth’s wariness and Shelly’s foreboding, Ethan began to feel a bit of trepidation himself. He’d always believed seances were smoke and mirrors and slide shows cast upon walls, but somehow he knew this night would be different. Instinctively, he moved closer to Shelly.

  Madame Aurora looked around, spinning in a slow circle, her eyes closed as if she felt more than saw the room’s checkered past. Her eyes open again, she touched the round, gleaming table situated in the middle of the large room. She arched an eyebrow at the bare windows. “The drapes?”

  The earl looked puzzled, so Shelly answered shortly, “Removed at my request.”

  “The tablecloth, too, no doubt, trying to insure that I use no tricks.”

  The two women exchanged a hard look.

  “A true medium between the spiritual and earthly planes would need no aids,” Shelly said with her usual inescapable logic.

  “A skeptic. Marvelous.” Madame Aurora clapped her plump hands, rings sparkling. “I do so enjoy transforming skeptics into believers. Shall we sit?”

  “Any particular order, Madame?” Arielle asked.

  “Any seating arrangement is fine, my child. It is the combined energy of our thoughts, the buried dreams of our childhoods and the unfulfilled longings of our adulthoods that entice the dear departed to succor to us. As long as we hold hands, that energy will swell enough to rip the curtain aside between our two worlds and let us glimpse your mother.”

  Ethan glanced at Shelly and rolled his eyes. She almost smiled, but looked quickly away to examine the room again. Why was she so wary? Could it be her own paranormal senses felt a danger none of the rest of them had yet ascertained?

  While the bustle of scraping chairs and rustling clothes was under way, Ethan noted that Seth discreetly checked the locks on the windows. Following Seth’s gaze, Ethan looked outside at the tall tree rubbing sylphlike fingertips against the panes, and his trepidation increased. Seth was also very nervous. But why?

  Persuaded that perhaps this little lark could be dangerous, Ethan stepped in front of the earl and took the seat next to Shelly. She sa
t next to Arielle, who sat next to the medium, the table seating completed with Seth between the medium and the earl.

  “Hold hands with me, dear child.” Madame offered her plump hand to Arielle, who took it eagerly.

  She closed her eyes and whispered, “Mother,” with such longing that Ethan’s heart ached for her. Seth’s wary golden eyes went dark as his pupils expanded, and even the earl’s hardness eased somewhat.

  Her father said, “She loved you, Arielle. With every fiber of her being.”

  “I know, Father. I feel it. Every night when I’m almost asleep. But I have to know why she cries. She needs me somehow. Please help me do this. Only then can we both be at peace.”

  “So be it,” said the earl, willingly completing the circle by taking Seth’s hand, love for his daughter making his eyes glisten.

  “Shhh…” whispered Madam Aurora. “Enough talking. Listen…but not with your ears. Do you hear them? So many, calling to us, trying to reach us across the ether. They are there. Open your hearts and minds.”

  And rocking from side to side, she shut her eyes to begin a strange humming.

  Slowly, quite without conscious effort, the others began rocking gently with her, instinctively, as if they were on the same ship seeking port in stormy seas, with Madame Aurora’s firm hand on the tiller. Her murmuring took on sound and pattern, yet still the words were strange, hypnotic. They had a lovely cadence that was both soothing and invigorating.

  Ethan’s eyes drifted shut right after Shelly’s, and he wondered if she was wrong. Perhaps the woman’s gift was genuine. With the thought came a strange release of something in his gut, as if a door had opened only when the skeptic began to believe.

  The candles guttered, and then, whoof! went out all at once. The sconces flickered, as if in a strong gale, but there was no wind coming through the casements. In fact, the tree outside was still. Ethan opened his eyes to see twin green eyes glowing at his feet under the table, but when he blinked, they were gone. He was about to peek under the table when the murmuring became words he recognized, in a voice very different to Madame Aurora’s.