Ghost Girl

by C. J. Archer

  "We discussed what to say if Myer discovered us," he said, "but not how to explain ourselves if Beaufort did."

  "Jacob will do whatever Emily tells him to do. You may not think him pliable, but he is in her hands. And she is more spirited than she appears on the surface. Don't worry about them. I won't tell them you ravaged me in the streets of Mayfair." I nudged his arm to show him I was joking.

  He grunted. "I do not need to ravage women."

  "Oh? Come to you willingly, do they?"

  "Aye."

  He trotted down the service stairs and put the key in the lock. I trailed after him, somewhat speechless, and received a dazzling Quin St. Clair smile as he opened the door.

  ***

  The society's library was tucked into the back of a coffee house located in a complex warren of narrow alleys in the old part of the city. The windows were clean but I doubted they'd seen sunlight in years with higher buildings overshadowing either side and opposite. The wood of the bar and tables was worn smooth by centuries of use and it wasn't difficult to imagine bewigged gentlemen meeting there to discuss trade and money when the coffee house first opened. Little had changed. The gentleman no longer wore wigs but they pored over the day's newspapers, and the snippet of lively chatter that I heard as we entered was about the latest financial reports. All talk stopped dead when they spotted me, however. Considering I was a woman, and half the age of most of the patrons, it wasn't surprising that I was the focus of their attention. Quin blended in a little better in his new suit.

  "It was one of the first coffee houses in England," Myer said, nodding at the attendant behind the bar. He and Nathaniel had met us outside.

  The attendant nodded back. "Morning, Mr. Myer, sir."

  "They sprang up all over the city after coffee was introduced to England, but most have vanished as progress or fire destroyed them."

  He used a key as long as his palm to unlock a thick wooden door at the back of the coffee house. The rough metal hinges creaked in protest at the disturbance. It was too dark to make out anything in the room, but the musty scent of old books was a sure sign that we had reached the library.

  Myer struck a match and lit the lantern hanging on a hook beside the door. He handed it to Nathaniel who lifted it high. I expelled a soft breath of wonder at the sight. The room wasn't large—it could barely fit the rectangular table and four armchairs—but it was packed with books. There were no windows, and each of the four walls housed a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf crammed with tomes of all sizes. The only gap between shelves was for the door.

  "Good lord," I said on a breath. I stepped into the room and spun around slowly. I'd been in private and public libraries before, but never had I seen so many old books in one small space. There were leather-bound covers, of course, and plain board ones too, and some books appeared to be simply a stack of pages tied together with ribbons.

  Quin inspected the ones nearest him and Nathaniel made straight for the stack of small drawers at one end of the table. It appeared to be some sort of cataloging system.

  "Have you been here before?" I asked him.

  "No. Why?"

  "It's just that you seem so calm. I mean…look at them all. I'm not a paranormal historian and I feel as if I've walked into a bank vault filled with gold."

  He looked around the room, nodding in wonder. "You're right. It is marvelous. I suppose I'm just eager to start."

  Myer set another lantern down on the table's surface. Between the two, there was enough light for us to work by. "As Faraday has figured out, those drawers contain cards for every book in here. The books are arranged on the shelves by their main subject and the cards cross-reference each one to other books. These texts are general ones," he said, indicating the shelves to the left of the door where the thickest volumes stood.

  "And which ones have you already searched through for information about the book?" I asked.

  "These," he said, indicating the general texts, "and that group over there." He pointed at the shelf directly opposite the door. "Most of them discuss demonology and the use of incantations. Now, I must dash. I have appointments here in the city. I'll leave you three to your own devices. Be sure to lock the door on your way out, Faraday." He gave Nathaniel the key and exited with a cheerful smile.

  "He seems to have no qualms leaving people he hardly knows in here," I said once he was gone.

  "He wants the book badly," Nathaniel said without looking up from the catalog. "But he has neither the expertise nor the patience to do the necessary work to find it."

  He sounded very much like Edith Myer. "Why aren't you a member of the society already when you have an interest in the paranormal?" I asked him.

  "Not everyone who has an interest in the paranormal belongs."

  I knew the truth of that statement. Neither George, Emily nor Jacob wanted anything to do with it.

  "As a historian, I wasn't interested in becoming a member," he went on. "Now, I'm having second thoughts. It may be worthwhile simply to have regular access to this library."

  "Do you know George Culvert?"

  His fingers stilled. "The name isn't familiar." He continued to sift through the cards in the drawer. "Why?"

  "He's a demonologist. I believe his library is well stocked, although I haven't seen it."

  "Do you know him?"

  "He's a relation through marriage." I pulled out a very old book that consisted of nothing more than pages sandwiched between two boards, stitched together with a thin leather strip. It smelled of earth and felt cool to touch.

  "Would you introduce me to him?" he said.

  I paused, suddenly wishing I hadn't brought it up. I was simply trying to establish where a paranormal historian fitted into the world of supernatural scholars. It seemed odd that he wasn't a member of the society and didn't know George. I wondered if George knew about him.

  Quin had begun inspecting the books that Myer told us he'd already searched through. He didn't seem interested in our conversation, and had hardly spoken to either Myer or Nathaniel since arriving. Perhaps he was worried he'd give himself away if he started a conversation. It was difficult to hide his accented speech and if Nathaniel asked him about living in Melbourne, we'd be in trouble.

  Nathaniel didn't ask, however. He switched his attention from the catalog to the shelves. "You're not going to look through the books Myer claims to have read?" I asked him as he scanned a different shelf.

  "No. I trust that his search was thorough. He may not like research, but I believe he wants the book enough to have exhausted the subject of incantations. I'll see what I can find elsewhere first. Those might be of interest to you, however, St. Clair."

  I returned my book and concentrated on the group Myer had already looked through. I wasn't convinced that he would have searched them all thoroughly. For one thing, there were many, and for another he didn't have the advantage that we had. We'd seen a page torn from the book. We knew the cadence of the language used in the spells and that the pages felt thick and rough to touch.

  We worked silently together, leafing through books at the table, sometimes slowly, sometimes flipping the pages quickly. Nathaniel's fair head bent over his text, his shoulders hunched and his nose practically skimming the page. At first I thought he was sniffing it, then I noticed his eyes screwed up tight. He must have poor eyesight. I was about to ask him if he'd forgotten his spectacles, but then I thought perhaps he might be self-conscious. Not too many handsome men liked the way a pair of glasses marred their good looks.

  His fair locks were in stark contrast to Quin's darker coloring. I'd tried to feign disinterest in Quin all morning, but had failed miserably and found myself peeking sideways at him whenever I could. Our kiss had unsettled my nerves in a way that both alarmed and thrilled me. I had hoped it had unsettled him too, but so far I'd seen no evidence of it. He was as cool and composed as ever. Clearly he'd not been joking when he'd claimed damsels came to him. I'd wager they kissed him willingly too.

  As th
e morning wore on, I grew colder. The room had neither sunlight nor fire to warm it and my shawl wasn't thick enough. I shivered. Without a word, Quin removed his coat and laid it around my shoulders. I smiled at him in thanks and caught Nathaniel watching us from beneath lowered lashes. I felt a twinge of regret that our friendship hadn't picked up where it had left off. He really had been very sweet on the ship and we'd talked into the evenings when we should have returned to our cabins. He'd even held my hand on that final night of the voyage as he promised to write to me.

  Perhaps Celia was right after all, and I was too young and naive to be allowed so much freedom. She hadn't wanted me to travel with only Mrs. Dartmoor for company, but I'd insisted and Louis had taken my side, telling her I was mature and shrewd for my age. Clearly I wasn't mature enough or shrewd enough to know when a gentleman was merely dallying with me as opposed to having serious intentions.

  I sighed, drawing the attentions of both men.

  "Bored already?" Nathaniel asked with a supercilious smile.

  "Not at all. It's just that there are an awful lot of books here. I can see why Myer gave up looking through them. It's rather like searching for a needle in a haystack. I'm glad we're only looking for general information on portals and disturbances and not the book of spells like you."

  "Aye," Quin said. "Here, Cara. This one is useful."

  He handed me a text with tanned leather stretched over the end boards. Images of the moon and stars were stamped into the cover and metal clasps had held it closed. The open page depicted a beautiful illumination of the Virgin Mary as a tree. Leaves grew from her toes and flowers bloomed from her fingertips. Except they weren't flowers but symbols. Some were swirls and patterns, others were simple drawings of animals. Seeing the Virgin Mary in a text on the paranormal gave me pause. It seemed unlikely at first, but I supposed it wasn't when one considered most medieval books had a religious purpose. But what did it all mean? I wanted to ask Quin, but not alert Nathaniel.

  "You're wasting your time with that one," Nathaniel said. He couldn't see the page since I held the book up, so he must know it from the cover. "The book is full of images and symbols that nobody can deciper. "

  "I thought you hadn't been here before," I said.

  "I haven't." He returned his attention to the text he was studying. "It's one I've heard about, that's all."

  I handed the book back to Quin and gave him a wry smile. His eyes twinkled in response. What was he up to? He returned the book to the shelves and began flipping through another. I pretended to study a book on angels as he drew out text after text. He looked through each one for a few minutes then returned them too. Finally, he announced it was time to leave.

  Nathaniel pulled out his watch from his waistcoat pocket. "But you've hardly been here an hour."

  "Cara is cold and I'm growing restless," Quin said.

  I handed him back his jacket and returned the book I was looking through to the shelves. "Good day, Nathaniel. I do hope we'll see you again."

  He hurriedly stood, scraping the chair's feet on the floorboards. "As do I, Cara. Good day."

  Quin waited for me to walk out of the library ahead of him. We left Nathaniel to his books and headed out of the coffee house. I waited until we'd reached the more open thoroughfare of Cornhill before peppering Quin with questions.

  "Why that book? What about it piqued your curiosity enough to pull it off the shelf?"

  "It felt different."

  "What do you mean?"

  He walked fast and I had to quicken my steps to keep up with him. "There was something about it that pulled me. I cannot explain it well with words you would understand."

  "Do you mean there was an energy about it? An otherworldly essence, as it were?"

  "Aye."

  "I felt nothing."

  "You're not a warrior."

  "A fair point." It began to drizzle and we'd not brought umbrellas. Quin pulled me into the large recessed doorway of a bank and shot a frustrated glance at the gray sky.

  "Clearly you found something important in the book," I said. "But I couldn't make any sense of it. Nor could anyone else according to Nathaniel."

  "The symbols on that page I showed you were a code."

  "And you were able to decipher it in that short time?"

  "It's a code I've seen before."

  "Where?"

  "Never mind."

  I clicked my tongue. "Quin, if we are to be partners in this search, you need to keep me informed."

  "I don't need to do anything."

  I crossed my arms and very nearly stamped my foot on the ground in a show of petulance. Obstinate man.

  "You're angry with me," he said idly.

  "Yes. I understand that you wish to keep details of your life to yourself. I'll grant you your privacy there. But this is different. You need to trust me, Quin, and talk to me. If we are to find the book of spells, we need to work together."

  As my tone grew more brisk, his face softened until he was actually smiling. "I was always going to tell you what the symbols meant," he said.

  "Oh. Very well. Continue."

  "The image of the Virgin Mary means creation, new life. The symbols growing from the tree meant something in my time, but it's possible their meaning has been lost."

  "That would explain why Nathaniel didn't recognize them. Or Myer for that matter."

  "Some of the symbols describe demons and evil spirits while others told of the spells used to control them."

  "Incantations," I whispered. "But those aren't secrets. Myer has used spells to bring demons here. George, Emily and Jacob have used another to send them back."

  "Aye, but they all originally came from the book we seek, and that book contains many more than just those incantations."

  "I see. So that image is referring to our book."

  "And its original creator."

  The door behind us opened and a gentleman stood there. He hesitated, a wary eye on Quin, then noticed the rain. He put up his umbrella and stepped into the street.

  "Who created it?" I asked, my heart thumping a little heavier.

  "There were symbols I recognized that belong to the human world, not the supernatural. Specifically a particular coat of arms. An eagle, which means redemption and resurrection, and the thistle, meaning pain and suffering."

  "Which family uses those symbols in their coat of arms?"

  "De Mordaunts," he said darkly.

  "You knew them?" I could barely speak above a whisper. It was strangely fascinating to think that here was another link to his past life.

  "Edward de Mordaunt was a friend to my brother." He stepped out into the street, leaving me standing in the doorway, staring after him. "Come, Cara. We have to find his descendants."

  "Wait. What?" I ran after him. The rain had stopped, but the air hung damp and ponderous around us, promising a heavier downpour. "Your brother's friend lived hundreds of years ago. He might not have any descendants."

  "Or he might. The book in the library is proof that the book of spells was created by the de Mordaunt family. It's something highly prized and therefore highly protected. I'd wager it's been passed down through the generations and is still in their possession."

  I lifted my skirts and stepped around a puddle. Quin walked right through it. "You expect to see it in their private library? You expect them to just show it to you?"

  "No."

  "Then how shall we see it?"

  "I'm yet to form a plan. First, we must find out where the seat of the de Mordaunt family is now located."

  What if there were several seats? I'd mentioned the problem of no living descendants, but what if there were dozens or even hundreds? And what if the book hadn't been given to the eldest son and heir, but a second son here, a third son there, followed by a daughter? The possibilities were endless, the task daunting.

  Another problem struck me. "The abbot of Frakingham Abbey was once custodian. That implies the book left the de Mordaunt family before the fiftee
n-thirties."

  "Unless he was a de Mordaunt too."

  "But what if he wasn't?" I dropped my skirts and didn't care if the hem picked up mud and muck off the street. I was lost in the hopelessness of it all.

  Quin slowed his pace and crooked his elbow. "Come, Cara," he said gently. "Don't be troubled. We're further in our search than we were this morning."

  I took his elbow and gave him a grateful smile. "You're right. I should stay optimistic. We'll find every single de Mordaunt living today and ask them about the book. It's possible they don't know the value of it, particularly if they have no interest in the paranormal."

  "We will ask your niece and her husband if they know them."

  I couldn't help laughing. "Quin, you have seen how many people live in this city, haven't you? Emily and Jacob don't know everyone, let alone those in other parts of the country."

  "Edward de Mordaunt was an important knight, close to the king."

  "That doesn't mean his family is still important. But I do know how to find out."

  "How?"

  "Debrett's."

  ***

  We arrived back at the Belgravia house and asked Watkins to inform Emily and Jacob that we would be in the library. They arrived just as I finally found their copy of the latest edition of Debrett's Peerage, the authority on all persons of note in Britain.

  "You two look industrious," Emily said, breezing into the library in a sleek cream and green day dress. On closer inspection, however, there were food stains at the shoulder and her fingers were covered in chalk. She'd been helping out the nanny in the nursery again.

  "Debrett's?" Jacob said with a nod at the book in my hand.

  "We have a slender idea on how to find the spell book," I told him. "Very slender."

  "That's better than no clues at all." Emily signaled for me to set Debrett's on the large hexagonal table, and she and I sat while Jacob and Quin stood behind us.

  I explained what Quin had discovered in the society's library and how we hoped to find a descendent of the de Mordaunt family. "As I said, a slender way forward."

  "But a way nevertheless. Well done, Quin." Emily flipped the pages, searching for surnames beginning with D. Debrett's listed all the peers beneath their rank, but also provided a separate alphabetical list of surnames and titles.