The Other Side
Page 15
No one moved to speak. No one moved at all. Bettina realized that she must have done something awful and sat down with a graceless thump.
A recess was called, and Bettina was not sure if it was a blessing or a curse, since it left her words as the last heard.
Nick Bright shook his head. “Lord help you, Harry, what are you thinking? You and Osterman are supporting the same bill for monies for the army. You sound as though you are having second thoughts. Stupidity like that will cost you votes.”
It wasn’t stupid, she wanted to shout, but at least had the presence of mind to eat the words, to acknowledge her anger had to be controlled.
Lord Osterman stopped by on his way out as well. “Fellsborough, have you gone mad? I will call you out if you persist.”
Control seemed to be something that Osterman had not learned at all. Faced with his bluster, Bettina felt more calm. “If we duel, then there will be one less vote for the army funding.”
Before Osterman could reply, a page came to them. “My lord, the countess is asking to see you. She says it is an emergency.”
With alacrity she was sure most men never felt, Bettina raced out of the chamber and looked for Harry in the public hall. It took a few minutes to find him as men milled about, talking in clusters, some moving along as they conversed, most unaware of the fact they were blocking progress. Finally she found him. He was wearing an awful puce cloak, one she had pushed to the back of her armoire months ago. It must be Freeba’s half day off. Bettina urged him to the side of the hall, where they could have a little privacy.
“Oh, Harry, I’m so relieved you are here. Why were you so late? Is Cameron all right? I did not think they would seat you after the session had begun.”
“No, no, all is well.” He spoke as though she were overreacting and it was his job to remain levelheaded. “Why will you not trust me to put our son’s welfare as high as you would?” He looked away from her for a moment, and she was almost sure his feelings were hurt by her lack of confidence in him. Harry had never felt that way. Never.
“The thing is, my dear, it is both Freeba’s and the nurse’s half day off, so I had to choose outerwear myself, and then I stayed to make sure the second nurse knew what she was doing. I left Cameron asleep with Nurse Stepp due back within the hour.”
“Oh, Harry, I am sure you handled the upset perfectly. I am the one who is making a mess of things. I cannot think what we will do.”
“Nonsense. It’s never as bad as you think.”
His confidence was such a comfort that tears filled her eyes.
“For God sake, Bettina, do not cry. That would be an even greater disaster.” Harry looked around the space as if making sure no one was watching them. “I took care of Cameron exactly as you instructed, and now you must trust me that this will resolve itself. I can tell you exactly what to say.”
Harry was about to go on, but Bettina interrupted him. “I’m afraid that I cannot handle the pose here. If I stand and speak whenever I am angry, I am sure to find more trouble for you.”
“Trust me, Bettina. Together we can find a solution, and it will be forgotten in a day. Less than a day.”
Bettina took both his hands as it struck her that this was what trust was. It was easy to trust when you heard proof as she had from Baron Helder at the Daltons’ dinner. A situation like the one they were facing right now took trust from the heart.
“Yes, yes,” Bettina said with a surge of trust and love so powerful that anything seemed possible. “The two of us together can do anything. Oh, Harry, I do trust you. I trust you completely.”
At that moment the oddest thing happened. As they held hands, Bettina felt a shift, a massive shift of vigor between them. It was the same vortex she had felt once before, but this time she felt no fear at its onset, only elation. Yes, she trusted Harry completely, not only with her life but with her heart and her future.
When she was again aware of her surroundings, Harry was kneeling beside her, a crowd of anxious faces above him. But Harry was all she cared about. Harry in his own body, in his superfine green wool coat, with the cravat choking him just as it had choked her. Bettina decided that she must have fainted. Harry lifted her into his arms and carried her into the cloakroom nearby.
“Are you all right?” they asked each other in unison. Bettina threw her arms around his neck. They laughed and kissed and kissed and laughed with more relief than passion.
Any number of people may have witnessed the faint, but not a one of them could have guessed at the real reason for it. Assuring everyone she was well and felt fine, Bettina insisted that she would watch the rest of the session from the gallery, telling Harry that she did not care a whit if “it calls into question my sensibilities.”
As Harry walked with her back toward the stairs to the gallery, Osterman came up to him.
When Bettina would have moved away, Harry held on to her arm. “My lord Osterman, my apologies if I embarrassed you. But you called it on yourself by making a statement guaranteed to alienate votes. We need the support of every man we can find, even men like Wilberforce.”
Osterman made a series of blustering, unintelligible sounds and ended with, “Just stop sounding like a damned abolitionist. At least until we have this funding passed.”
Harry turned to Bettina, kissed her fingers, and smiled, his eyes telling her, You see how easy that was to fix? She smiled back and went up the stairs to the gallery as happy as she had been in at least six months, possibly her whole life.
It was a long day and had been an even longer week, so it made perfect sense for Bettina and Harry to agree that they should retire early that evening.
As they walked upstairs to bed, Harry reminded her, “Now my dear, we must be very careful not to wish for anything again.”
“Why would I?” she asked. “I have everything I could possibly want.”
They kissed outside her bedroom, a deep, drugging kiss, a code Harry had long ago developed to tell her that he wanted to share his bed with her. With a smile she could not control, Bettina hurried into the bedroom and let Freeba help her undress. When only her chemise remained, Bettina bade Freeba good night, and the maid backed out of the room announcing that she would come “with my lady’s chocolate in the morning.”
Bettina hurried over to the secretary, took out the key, opened the jewel chest, and pulled out the ridiculously gorgeous Fellsborough diamonds. She tucked them near the bed warmer and took off her chemise. Draping the warmed diamonds over her naked body, she went to the door that connected her room to Harry’s and tapped lightly.
Instead of answering, he opened the door himself. When he saw his wife before him naked but for the diamonds, Bettina could tell that he, or at least his body, was very pleased indeed.
As Harry gathered her up and carried her to his bed, Bettina whispered, “Regardless of what you learned at the Daltons’ party, there are some wives who do listen to what their husbands say.”
Epilogue
“It’s so perfect outside, and now that he has his first teeth, it is the ideal day to take Cameron to see Miss Bright and her mother. Lord Nicholas assured me that they would both be receiving callers today.”
Martha Stepp nodded and moved the blanket away from Lord Cameron’s face so he could see the world around him.
“I beg your pardon, my lady, but have you had any further thoughts on what happened to the coin that you asked me about?”
“No, it’s so odd. Yes, I foolishly left the key in the lock of the jewelry box the night before, so it’s possible someone took it. But why take only the coin?” She had been very distracted about wearing the diamonds for Harry, so perhaps she had dislodged the coin when she pulled the diamonds out. “And you and Freeba were the only ones to come in that morning. Freeba was expected, and you came to show me that Cameron’s teeth had broken through.”
Bettina shook her head, trying to reconstruct the morning, for the fifth time in as many days, but she had been so happy and so happi
ly tired that the first few hours of the day had passed in a haze. She thought she might be increasing again. Though it was impossible to know for certain yet.
“Not that I suspect you at all, Martha,” she assured her favorite servant. “Whoever took the coin took nothing else. And really, that coin is worthless.”
Bettina made a mental apology to the coin and the mage who had endowed it with magic. But who would believe her if she told the truth?
By the time they were settled in Lord Bright’s sunny red and yellow salon, Bettina had let the coin slip to the back of her mind. She showed off her darling baby boy and then passed him to Nurse so she and the Brights could use the rest of the time to talk.
Bettina still hoped there was a way to save Miss Bright from marriage to the young, virtually unknown Osterman heir, but she realized that she would have to tread carefully. Today was the first step.
Miss Bright was very subdued and spent most of the first part of the visit staring out the window onto the street at the front of the house.
“Come over here, daughter,” her mother commanded. “You spend so much time staring out that window you are going to take root there.”
With a last wistful look out the window, Miss Bright joined Bettina and her mother in the center of the room. Martha Stepp, holding Lord Cameron, claimed the window that Miss Bright had just vacated.
As the three women chattered on about fashion, Bettina tried to find a way to introduce the subject of Miss Bright’s engagement. In the end, Bettina said good-bye without having broached the subject, hoping she would have another chance. Any disappointment she felt was relieved by the thought that the marriage could hardly happen overnight. She would ask Harry. Together they could come up with a plan to save the girl.
Not one of the three ladies knew that only a few minutes after the Countess of Fellsborough completed her call, Miss Bright found a very strange coin on the sill of her favorite window, beckoning her with its golden glow.
Always a curious girl, she picked it up, studying it with interest, and wondered why she had such a strong urge to make a wish. She wrapped her fingers tight around the coin and thought. It would have to be just the right wish. Miss Bright knew exactly what that was.
The Dancing Ghost
PATRICIA GAFFNEY
For Bonnie Gaffney
From the Hartford Courant, June 10, 1895: “Ghost Expert” Says Old House Is “Haunted”
A self-described “spirit investigator” has determined that a long-abandoned house on Portman Street is haunted by ghosts.
“After rigorous testing, using the most modern scientific instruments available, I find the evidence overwhelming,” declared Henry Cleland, president of the World Society for Harmonial Inspi-Rationality. “In all my vast experience with the supernatural, never have I encountered a private residence more patently associated with elements from the spirit world.”
Rumors have swirled around the decrepit mansion in West Hartford for decades. Skeptics laugh, but neighbors and passersby regularly report mysterious sights and sounds emanating from the house, including weeping, knocking, rapping, and the passing of disembodied shapes in the windows.
Last year, the Hartford Society for Enlightened Spiritualism decided to investigate the odd goings-on. According to Mrs. Horace T. Beckingham, the society’s chairwoman, their investigations were inconclusive, and “as a result, we decided to engage an expert.”
Enter Mr. Cleland, lately of Philadelphia, Baltimore, and New Haven, and author of the monograph “Examinations of the Metanormal with Scientific Proofs of the Odic Force.”
“I spent several nights in the house,” said Cleland, “performing experiments and gathering data.”
“He had a lot of equipment, machines and gauges and devices, for detecting things out of the ordinary,” Mrs. Beckingham confirmed. “In the end, it was the photographs that convinced us.”
Cleland would not supply photographs to this newspaper. “They’re proprietary,” he explained. “Plus, I may write a book.”
He and Mrs. Beckingham both claimed the photographs showed “numinous images” and “orbs of pure psychic energy.”
For now, the society has no plans to continue the ghostly experiments, citing financial considerations. “We’re a small organization with limited resources,” Mrs. Beckingham explained. “Ghost experts don’t come cheap.”
Not everyone is convinced the Portman Street house is haunted.
“Ridiculous,” said Arthur M. Mordecai, vice president of Hartford Mercantile Bank & Trust, holder of the house’s mortgage. “Absurd. No such thing as ghosts.” Hartford Mercantile has been trying to sell the mansion for many years. Will its new designation as a “haunted house” lessen its chances of sale even further?
“Of course not,” scoffed Mordecai. “Unless everybody’s gone completely insane.”
14 Lexington Street Paulton, Massachusetts
June 14, 1895
Mr. Henry Cleland
Post Office Box l27-B
Boston, Massachusetts
My dear Mr. Cleland,
Mrs. Horace T. Beckingham was kind enough to send me your new address. I had written to her after reading in the Courant of your extraordinary work in the matter of the haunted house in Hartford, Conn.
I am sure a gentleman of your exceptional background and talents is extremely busy, beset no doubt by appeals from a public eager for your unique skills and advice. Even so, I hope you will entertain one more humble request, and consider a commission not unlike the one you performed for the Hartford Society for Enlightened Spiritualism.
Many of us here in Paulton believe Willow House, my late grandparents’ home, is inhabited by spirits from the beyond. A number of witnesses, yours truly among them, have observed many extremely convincing manifestations that cannot be explained otherwise. I have a personal interest in getting to the bottom of this mystery, and I believe you, Mr. Cleland, are the perfect, indeed the only, person who can help me.
I have taken the liberty of making a discreet inquiry of Mrs. Beckingham, who suggested (with similar discretion) that your time and services might be secured for a certain remunerative consideration. Please see the attached, which details what I hope you will deem a suitable recompense.
I implore you to help me, Mr. Cleland. Time is of the essence. Your kind and expeditious reply will be most appreciated by
Your humble servant,
(Miss) Angiolina Darlington
Post Office Box 127-B Boston, Mass.
June 16, 1895
Miss Angiolina Darlington
14 Lexington Street
Paulton, Mass.
Dear Miss Darlington,
Thank you for your kind letter. It is true that the particular services I am able to offer are much in demand, and only grow more numerous as time passes and human enlightenment expands. Ordinarily I would be unable to accommodate you on such short notice, but as it happens, I do find a small window of time has unexpectedly opened in my busy schedule.
As to recompense, my own needs are trivial—spartan—but my work is, as you say, so unique, so specialized , I am afraid I couldn’t think of offering it at a discount. Please see the attached re: the matter of my fee.
Certain we can come to an agreement in this matter, and looking forward to a productive and mutually satisfactory spirit enterprise, I remain
Very truly yours,
Henry Cleland
14 Lexington Street Paulton, Massachusetts
June 18, 1895
Mr. Henry Cleland
Post Office Box l27-B
Boston, Massachusetts
My dear Mr. Cleland,
Thank you so much for your prompt reply. Words cannot express how glad and grateful I am that you will be coming to Paulton, and not a minute too soon!
Alas, my personal circumstances are such that I am unable to offer you more than the amount mentioned in my last (see attached). But I have it on excellent authority (dear Mrs. Beckingham) that b
esides being brilliant in your unique field of endeavor, you are also a most kind, most generous person. I am praying that that generosity of spirit will impel you to help me, Mr. Cleland, for I desperately need your help!
Yours most sincerely,
Angiolina Darlington
Post Office Box 127-B Boston, Mass.
June 20, 1895
Miss Angiolina Darlington
14 Lexington Street
Paulton, Mass.
Dear Miss Darlington,
You are, of course, not aware that I am obliged to move about with an enormous amount of special scientific equipment, all of a very delicate nature. As a consequence, travel expenses alone take up the vast bulk of the modest sum I request (see attached) for my services. And then there are the extra requirements for the transport of Astra, a vital part of any investigation I perform.
Since I will be a newcomer, I rely on you solely in the matter of accommodations whilst I am in Paulton. (And I hope I need hardly mention that financial responsibility in that regard will be yours, not mine. But I am a very simple man, never fear, so I assure you that burden will be light.)
Thanking you for your kind consideration, I remain,
Yours,
Henry Cleland
14 Lexington Street Paulton, Massachusetts
June 22, 1895
Mr. Henry Cleland
Post Office Box l27-B