by C. J. Archer
Myer cleared his throat. "Let's not let old arguments upset the ladies," he said cheerfully.
"Arguments? Is that what you call it?" Frakingham grunted. "I suppose I should expect a twisting of the truth from the man who claimed a philosophical group met here."
"Ah." Myer looked to Sylvia and myself. "Yes. That was to protect Mrs. Gladstone." He held up his hands in surrender. "Not my doing."
"No," Frakingham sneered. "Nothing is ever your doing. There is always someone else to blame."
Myer gave a nervous little laugh. "Come now, my lord. Let bygones be bygones and all that. It's been, what, more than twenty years?"
"As I already told you," Frakingham said, walking up the stairs away from us. "Not long enough."
Douglas Malborough watched his father go, then he turned back to Myer. "So you are Everett Myer," he called down.
"I am." Myer smiled at him as if he'd just noticed him there. "Who are you, sir?"
"Douglas Malborough."
"Ah. The son and heir. Don't mind your father and I. Our history together is complicated."
"Isn't all history complicated?" Malborough pushed off from the balcony and went after his father.
Myer didn't move for some time, but stared after the men.
"Have you seen Lord Frakingham since that daguerreotype was taken?" I asked. "Sixty-seven, I think it was."
"Sixty-seven," he repeated. "It feels like a lifetime ago. So much has happened since then."
"Speaking of what has happened," Sylvia said with a nod up the stairs. "Why do you and Lord Frakingham dislike one another?"
"You're too bold, Miss Langley, but I'll reward your boldness with an answer anyway. Lord Frakingham and the late Mr. Gladstone had some things in common, you see. Their dislike of me being one of them."
Was he implying the reason for that dislike was also the same? From what Mrs. Gladstone had told us, her now dead husband thought Myer was having an affaire de coeur with her. Did Lord Frakingham think Myer also had an assignation with Lady Frakingham?
It wouldn't surprise me. Although Myer wasn't an attractive man, he could be charismatic when he wasn't being secretive. I'd witnessed his charm first hand, but I also knew he used it in conjunction with his hypnosis. Both his wife and Mrs. Butterworth had been coerced by his powers. How many others?
The thought sent a chill through me. I inched away from him, and sought an excuse to leave and take Sylvia with me. Unfortunately, she had other ideas.
"You entered our attic without our permission," she said. Ordinarily I would congratulate her on her straight spine, her steady gaze, but this was Myer. She ought not test him. He was too wily, too unscrupulous, too dangerous.
Myer seemed surprised by her question. He stared at her for a long moment, then he chuckled. "My apologies, Miss Langley. You're right. I should have asked your permission, but I was afraid you wouldn't grant it."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted that daguerreotype, the one of myself with Mrs. Gladstone and Lord and Lady Frakingham. It's the pattern of the stones, you see."
"No, Mr. Myer, I don't see. Please explain."
"I recall the stones," I said. "They were laid out in front of the group in shapes."
"I remember now," she added. "Shapes inside shapes. What of it?"
Myer glanced up the staircase but there was no one there anymore. "I couldn't remember the exact formation of the stones until you showed that daguerreotype to me. I only wanted to see it again."
"Then why not ask one of us to fetch it for you? Why hypnotize Mrs. Moore?"
"Ah. Yes. Well." He swallowed. "I didn't think you would let me have it."
"That was a despicable thing to do." She gave no indication of whether she would have given him the picture or not.
"No harm done," he said cheerfully.
Sylvia's mouth dropped open like an unhinged door. I supposed I must have looked equally shocked, because Myer shrank back from us.
"No harm!" I cried. I shook with rage that had been slowly building inside me ever since discovering the housekeeper had been hypnotized. "You took away Mrs. Moore's free will! You entered the attic without Mr. Langley's permission! You, Mr. Myer, ought to be ashamed of yourself, wielding your power like that."
"Come now, Miss Evans. There's no need to become so overwrought." He sounded so jolly. How could he not see the deed was despicable? "It was a minor offence in the scheme of things."
"Minor!" both Sylvia and I spluttered.
"I shall have words with Uncle about your coming and going from here," she went on, hands on hips.
"Please do," he said smoothly. "I'm sure he'll remind you how much he needs my help." He smiled gently, as if he felt sorry for us. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm running late for my appointment."
We stood aside and let him past. It wasn't until after he left that I wondered if he'd hypnotized us into giving in so easily. Yet there'd been none of the signs. No buzzing in my head, no inexplicable desire, and his voice hadn't lowered to a melodic rhythm that reached into one's soul. What did surprise me, however, was my own vehemence in defending Mrs. Moore's honor. Anger had taken over and I'd momentarily forgotten my fears. It was liberating, added to which, no harm had befallen me. Myer had not struck me or hypnotized me. I stood there, feeling taller than I had in a long time.
"We didn't ask him why he needed to know the pattern of the stones," Sylvia said once he was gone from view.
"Nor did we ask him if he took anything else from the attic."
She sighed. "Let's go up as planned.
We continued up the stairs but did not reach the attic. An explosive outburst from August Langley stopped us in our tracks on the landing.
"Get out!" came his shout from the laboratory further along the corridor. "Get out of my lab! Out of my house!"
Sylvia clutched my arm with a trembling hand. "I've never heard him so angry before. He rarely raises his voice."
"Samuel must have told him about Myer hypnotizing Mrs. Moore," I said. "It seems Myer underestimated your uncle's moral fiber."
But it was not Myer who was ejected from the laboratory and had the door slammed in his face.
"Bollard!" Sylvia cried.
The servant stared at the closed door as if waiting for it to reopen and Langley to emerge and apologize. He did not.
"Bollard?" Sylvia said as we approached. "What happened?"
The mute turned sad eyes on her and signed something with his hands. I couldn't understand the rapid, jerky movements and it seemed Sylvia was having trouble too.
"Slow down," she said.
Bollard huffed out a breath and repeated it, ending with a fierce downward strike of one hand onto the palm of the other.
"Broken?" Sylvia said with a shake of her head. "Do you mean his experiment is broken?"
He nodded.
"He's blaming you?" I asked.
He shook his head and pointed to himself. I think he was telling me that Langley did blame him but he didn't do it.
"He doesn't believe you," I murmured.
A crash inside the laboratory had me jumping and Sylvia gasping. What followed was a tirade from the other side of the door that included some foul language and the sounds of more crashing and breaking of glass. The door opened as we stared at it. Samuel and Myer tumbled out. Samuel managed to shut the door just as something thumped against it from the other side.
"Bloody hell!" Myer said. "He's not very happy."
"That's an understatement," Samuel said on a breath.
"What's going on?" I asked. "Bollard said the experiment is broken and Langley blames him."
Samuel directed us away from the door to the relative safety of the landing. "The device he's been working on for months is smashed, the pieces broken. Worse than that, all his research notes have been burned. We found some pages in the fireplace, but nothing that could be salvaged."
"My God," Sylvia whispered, her fingers at her throat. "No wonder he's furious." She eyed Bollard. "Wh
y does he think you did it?"
Bollard lowered his gaze and his shoulders stooped. His hands remained still, leaving us none the wiser.
"Bollard expressed his dislike of the device some time ago," Myer elaborated. "He didn't think it was a good idea to create something that could read minds."
He wasn't alone in his concerns. "But surely Langley knows you wouldn't destroy his work," I said. "It's your work, too. Does he have any proof that it was you?"
Still Bollard did not sign. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes up tight. It was the most troubled I'd ever seen him. Indeed, the usually expressionless man was positively animated.
"Mr. Myer and I entered the lab a moment or two before Langley's outburst," Samuel said. "He was just sitting there, staring at the destruction as if he couldn't believe it."
"Our arrival seemed to rouse him," Myer chimed in. "That's when he began to shout."
Unshed tears trembled in Sylvia's eyes. "I cannot believe this is happening now, when Lord Frakingham is here too. I wonder if they heard the shouting."
"I suspect so," I said. "He was certainly loud enough."
"Don't worry, Bollard," she went on, patting his arm. "Once he's calmed down, he'll realize it wasn't you. Just give him a few hours."
"It begs the question," Samuel said, darkly. "Who did do it?"
No one said anything, but I suspected we were all thinking the same thing. Lord Frakingham and his son were the only new additions to the household. It stood to reason that it was one of them, or perhaps both. But why?
We all exchanged grim, knowing glances. All except Bollard, who had bowed his head so that we couldn't see his face. His stance was that of a defeated and worried man. It wasn't simply a matter of having his employer angry at him, it was that his friend was. From what I'd witnessed, he and Langley had a unique relationship that went beyond that of master and servant, scientist and assistant. To have Langley accuse him must be distressing indeed.
I touched his arm to reassure him. If it had any affect, I couldn't tell.
Samuel suddenly thumped his fist on the newel post. "Bloody hell. All that time and effort gone to waste. We were so close, too. So near seeing it work for the first time."
I lowered my hand to my side and shrank a little away from him. He looked as volatile as Langley at that moment, his face twisted with fury. I didn't dare tell him I was glad the horrid contraption had been destroyed. It would seem I wasn't alone in my anxiety. Not even Sylvia said anything, and she wasn't as afraid of Samuel as I was.
The laboratory door opened and Langley wheeled himself out. His face was red. The veins on his forehead and at his throat bulged thick and blue. "Why are you still here?" he shouted at Bollard. "I told you to leave! Go on! Leave this house at once! You're no longer welcome here."
Bollard swallowed heavily, but he didn't appeal to Langley or try to protest his innocence. He simply turned away and walked off with a stiff back and straight shoulders.
Sylvia chewed her lip so hard I worried she'd bite right through it. I expected her to plead with her uncle to reconsider, but she did not.
Samuel was the only one who spoke up as Bollard retreated. "Langley, are you sure that's what—"
"Don't, Gladstone," Langley snapped. "Or I'll banish you, as well."
"What if it wasn't him?" Samuel persisted. "We need to find out who did it and—"
"It was him!" Langley wheeled his chair around so that he was facing Samuel, and pinned him with a gaze that was pure steel. "Do you think I would send him away if I was uncertain?" He pointed two fingers at his eyes. "I saw him destroy it, moments before you entered. There is no mistaking his actions for something else. I saw him break it apart with his bare hands. The notes were already burning in the fire. I want him gone from here before tomorrow morning. There's no place at Frakingham for traitors."
Nobody spoke. There was nothing to say to that accusation. I couldn't help but believe him, because I'd seen how much he cared for Bollard. He wouldn't falsely accuse him, and he certainly wouldn't banish him if there were any doubt.
"Fetch the maid," Langley growled as he wheeled himself back to the laboratory. "And Dawson."
Sylvia raced down the stairs to do his bidding. Myer cleared his throat and straightened his necktie, although it wasn't crooked. "Well. It seems I won't be needed. I'll be at the ruins, if anyone is looking for me."
He left Samuel and I alone. I debated whether to make my excuses and leave too, but Samuel looked forlorn, as if he weren't sure where to go or what to do next.
"Are you all right?" I asked.
"I…I don't know." He clasped his hair with both hands, scrunching it up then letting it slide through his fingers. "I can't believe the device is gone. After all the work we did these last months. Such a damned waste!"
I flinched at his vehemence, even though it wasn't directed at me. He was so distressed, and it wasn't even his invention. "Why does it matter so much?" My anxiety made my voice sound small, but I congratulated myself on asking it anyway. I wanted to get to the bottom of Samuel's distress. How did the destruction of the mind-reading device affect him, when he already wielded such enormous power himself? He may not be able to read minds, but he could hypnotize someone and ask them what they thought, if he so desperately wanted to know.
"What does it matter now?" he spat. "It's lost. We have to start again. If Langley has the heart for it, that is. Christ," he muttered. "Bloody Bollard."
"You think he did it too?"
He lifted one shoulder. "Langley seems adamant and he wouldn't accuse Bollard if there was any doubt."
"True. They are very good friends."
"'Friends' doesn't quite convey the depth of feeling between them."
"Oh?" It took me a moment to realize what he meant. Then I recalled the way I'd seen Bollard gently carry Langley, and the way his hands clasped him round the waist or shoulders. There was tenderness in one another's eyes too, that I'd mistaken for loyalty and friendship, but now realized was something more. "I see. That makes their falling out all the worse."
"It makes Bollard's betrayal worse," Samuel said on a sigh.
"He said he didn't do it."
"Are you sure that's what he said? I can only read his hands when he's slowing the movements down for me. He signed so rapidly, just now." He shook his head. "I'm not sure he's as innocent as you believe."
"I don't necessarily believe one way or the other," I said, miffed. I didn't like being told what I did and didn't believe. It was another form of control. "We've only got Langley's word for what he saw."
"At least he's got words."
"That's not fair, Samuel. Not to mention uncalled for."
He blew out a breath and once more dragged his hands through his hair, over his face. When he pulled them away, his eyes were squeezed shut. "I apologize. I'm just so frustrated by this setback."
"You haven't explained why you're frustrated. I don't even know why you were helping Langley with it in the first place. It sounds like a diabolical invention to me. I can't say I'm unhappy that it was destroyed."
He opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on me. All anger was gone from their depths, but not the shadows and the hint of wildness at the edges. "It had the capacity to do great things too, when used by the right person upon the right person."
"And who is to say who could and couldn't use it? Who would control it? Langley? You? Myer? Forgive me, but you three have quite different levels of what constitutes ethical behavior and, I'd wager, different motives for wanting that device to work. I know why Langley wanted it to work, and probably Myer, but what I don't understand, Samuel, is why you were so keen on seeing the contraption operational."
He looked away and I knew I'd not get an answer from him. "This ethical debate is irrelevant," he said. "The device is no more."
"And Bollard is going to be banished from his home for a crime he may not have committed."
"Or a crime he may have committed. We don't know."
I threw my hands in the air. Talking with him had become so exasperating! "Then why not learn the truth first before condemning him?"
It was a long moment before he answered me, and when he did, his voice had lost its hard edge. "Langley probably won't banish him. I'm sure he'll calm down soon enough and they'll talk. Perhaps Bollard can bring him round to his way of thinking regarding the ethics."
"And what about you? Can you be brought around?"
"If circumstances were different, I would already think the same way as you and Bollard. But this is how we are. This is how I am. I have my reasons for wanting that device to work, Charity. I think they're bloody good reasons, although you may not. Forgive me, but I'm like a faulty automaton. I know I should think and act a certain way, but I cannot." He grunted a laugh that held no humor. "Perhaps it's madness that makes me faulty. Or perhaps it's just desperation."
"Desperation?" I whispered. I'd been trying to follow his explanation but, in truth, I was more confused than ever. "Desperation for what?"
He looked at me with such tenderness and misery that my heart cracked. And as he did so, the shadows that always surrounded him crowded closer and grew darker. He finally lowered his gaze and walked away.
I did not go after him, even though every part of me ached to wrap my arms around him and hold him. Instead I went downstairs and searched for Sylvia. I found her in the servants’ dining room, pleading with Bollard not to go.
"Uncle will change his mind," she said, clasping Bollard's arm. "Wait and see."
He signed something and her face crumpled.
"Bollard, no! Stay. Please. We need you here. He needs you."
He shook his head and gently removed her hand from his arm. He accepted a parcel wrapped in brown paper from Mrs. Moore and another from the cook. They were the only servants there. Maud and Tommy must have been cleaning up the laboratory.
"Charity," Sylvia said upon spying me. "Help me convince Bollard to stay."
The mute gave me a flat smile and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop him. He'd made up his mind. "Where will you go?" I asked.