Evermore

by C. J. Archer

  “Which is absurd,” I said. “It had nothing to do with Jacob.”

  She shrugged. “Blunt is in love with her and she knows it. She is pulling his strings like a puppeteer. She made him get as much information about Otherworld matters from Mr. Price that he could and pass it along to her.”

  “So it was they who released the demon and were behind the summoning of Mortlock?” I asked.

  She lifted that strong witchy chin and pointed it at me. “Yes. And now they are cursing the Otherworld, trying to destroy it and your friend in particular.”

  “With a curse they got from Mr. Price. I see, but how did he come to know of the curse? Indeed, any of the curses?”

  “Through me. My kind are the keepers of many supernatural secrets that your kind know nothing about.”

  “You’re Romany!”

  “Fascinating,” George said, pushing his glasses up his nose and peering closer.

  “But your name does not sound Romany,” I said.

  “Stanley is the adopted name of my late husband’s family. We use it when we travel in your world.” Another proud tilt of her chin. Now that I knew her heritage, I could see the dark eyes of the gypsy and although her hair was mostly gray, it could have been black in her youth.

  “So Mrs. White, or rather Mrs. Seymour, killed Jacob Beaufort?” I asked. “Are you prepared to swear to that in court?”

  “Court is not for the likes of us, not when we are treated little better than animals in this country. I have told you what I know. It is up to you to bring that curvă and her curist to justice.” From the way she spat out the Romany words, I got the feeling they weren’t complimentary. “I am glad you came to my house today,” she went on. “I have been worried about him.”

  “About Price?” George asked. “Have they been threatening him?”

  “They have been killing him!”

  “You mean he was the one who delivered the curse to the Otherworld?”

  “That explains why he looked so ill,” said George.

  Mrs. Stanley pressed her gloved fingers to her nose. Her eyes filled with tears. “I had the devil of a time trying to convince them he was not well enough to do it again. That is when Blunt decided to deliver the curse himself. There was no one else. I would not do it. They threatened me, tried to give me money, but I refused.”

  “That’s very brave of you.”

  She glanced back to the door, then up at the ceiling, and finally at each of us. Her dark stare was bold, direct. “Not brave. I fear destroying the Otherworld more than I fear them. They may not care what happens to their souls after death, but I do. We Romany respect death and the spirit world. To destroy it is to destroy the life you will have beyond this one.”

  “Yes, I see.” It made sense. I knew little about the gypsy culture, but if they were the guardians of such powerful paranormal curses, then it was logical that they would respect the supernatural. “Is that why you’ve come to us?”

  “Yes. I do not want to be next to die. I do not want to be forced to help them. You have delayed the Otherworld’s destruction, Miss Chambers, but not stopped it. You must deliver the counter curse before she finds another victim. The next time will be the third time the curse will be delivered.”

  “The third and final time,” I murmured.

  “Yes. This curse requires the power of three to work. How does it fare up there?”

  “The Waiting Area is all but destroyed. Many spirits have been lost, the rest are fading away. I fear you’re right, Mrs. Stanley. One more time will see the complete destruction of the Waiting Area and…and Jacob.” I swallowed a sob. Now was not the time for hysterics or even melancholy. I needed to be strong and have my wits about me.

  Mrs. Stanley pressed her hand over her mouth and uttered something in Romany. “That is very shocking to hear.”

  “We must have Mrs. White—Mrs. Seymour—arrested before she can find another victim to deliver the curse,” I said. “She could easily pay a street urchin to do it.”

  “The curse is complicated, the language ancient and difficult for a non-Romany, particularly for an illiterate child. She tried a street boy once, but he could not get it right and died in the attempt.”

  “Oh my god! The poor boy.”

  “Terrible.” George shook his head. “So what do you think she’ll do next?”

  “She will find someone else,” Mrs. Stanley said. “A healthy adult who can be trained to speak the Romany words.”

  George lifted an eyebrow at me. “That could take time.”

  “That’s not something I want to wager on,” I said.

  “Then we’ll send the police to the Grosvenor Street house to arrest her for the murder of Beaufort.”

  “Not yet,” Mrs. Stanley said quickly. “First she must send Miss Chambers to the Otherworld to deliver the counter curse.”

  “I say! I don’t think Emily should do it.”

  Yet I had to. I knew it. Besides, I wanted to see what the Otherworld was like for myself. My entire life, I’d heard about it, thought about it, and curiosity had gnawed at me. “I’ll do it,” I said.

  Mrs. Stanley nodded. “I think it is for the best. You are part of that world already with your special gift. Your presence there will be powerful, and that can only help.”

  “I don’t like it,” George hedged.

  “You don’t have to like it,” I said. “I’m doing it regardless. But I don’t trust Mrs. White. If what Mrs. Stanley says is true—”

  “It is,” she said with a flare of her nostrils.

  “If what Mrs. Stanley says is true,” I said again, “then Mrs. White cannot be trusted to bring me back. We could go to a hospital and ask them to…” Kill me.

  “I do not think a doctor will put you to your death.”

  “She’s right,” George said. “Don’t worry, Em, we’ll all be there. Your sister too, if you want her. We will force Mrs. White to keep you alive.”

  I sat for a moment, not yet believing what I’d agreed to do. Could I trust Mrs. Stanley? I felt a little mad for going along with her scheme. Actually, more than a little, particularly since I was rather looking forward to it. To see the Otherworld, to see Jacob again…I couldn’t deny that it sent a little thrill through me.

  “Until we are ready, Mrs. Seymour should be left alone,” Mrs. Stanley said. “If we startle her, she will leave London and we will face delays as we try to find another to perform the death and resurrection.”

  “Agreed,” George said.

  “Mrs. Stanley,” I asked, “where is your tribe?”

  “My people will be south of Codicote in Hertfordshire at this time of year. Why?”

  “Because you don’t have the counter curse, do you? You must not, otherwise you would have had Price deliver it on his last visit to the Otherworld. He could have tricked Mrs. White and delivered the counter curse instead of the one she gave him.”

  She pressed her hand to her nose once more and I expected to see tears pool, but none did. Her eyes were two black orbs that held my gaze steadily. “Of course I do not have it.”

  “How long will it take you to reach your people’s camp?” I asked.

  “I can leave today and be back late tomorrow.”

  “Only if you rode very fast. I can lend you my carriage,” George said.

  “Mr. Culvert, my people are excellent horsemen and women. We can ride bareback at speed for twenty days and twenty nights if necessary.”

  “I’ll take that as your refusal of my offer,” he muttered.

  “Late tomorrow,” I said. “That will have to be soon enough.”

  “We have the ball tomorrow night,” George said. “You cannot miss that, Em. It’s the event of the century!”

  “This is more important. Mrs. Stanley, if you haven’t arrived here by the time I must leave for the ball, come fetch me at Lord and Lady Preston’s Belgrave Square house upon your return. We’ll go to Mrs. White’s place of work together and force her to inject me. We’ll trick her i
nto thinking I’ll be delivering the curse.”

  “Trick her how?” George asked. “She’s no fool.”

  “I will tell her that you are going to deliver the curse,” Mrs. Stanley said. “She doesn’t know I have told you everything and will believe me. I will tell her that you think you are delivering the counter curse and that is why you have agreed to do it, otherwise she will be suspicious.”

  I nodded. So did George, reluctantly. “I still don’t like it,” he said.

  Mrs. Stanley was eager to get on her way to fetch the counter curse from her people and did not stay for tea as politeness dictated.

  “Should we trust her?” George asked after she’d left.

  It was the same question I’d been asking myself ever since she walked in. “We don’t have a choice.”

  “Yes, we do.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and gave me a somewhat smug smile. “I can go independently to her tribe. If she shows up, then we know she’s telling the truth. If she doesn’t—”

  “Then we’ll know she lied and never intended to get the counter curse.” I didn’t tell him that by the time he discovered which side Mrs. Stanley’s loyalties lay, it might be too late.

  CHAPTER 10

  “Don’t go alone,” I said to George. “Take Theo and Louis.”

  “Your father?”

  “He’s a brave man and looks strong. You may need him.”

  “I’m beginning to think you doubt my abilities when it comes to taking care of myself.”

  “George.” I squared up to him. “You are a gentle man, and you are about to confront a clan of gypsies. I do not think even the three of you will be quite safe, but there’s nothing for it but to go.”

  “You may be right.” He removed his coat from the hook near the front door and brushed the sleeve with a flick of his fingers.

  I pecked him on the cheek. “Good luck, and be careful.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll have my pistols.”

  I didn’t tell him that two pistols would hardly protect him from a clan of gypsies if they decided they didn’t like him. “Just a thought, but it may be better to let my father do the talking. Your manner can be somewhat aloof at times and Theo doesn’t seem to like them at all.”

  He tugged the brim of his hat down. “Emily, you worry too much. Trust me. I know how to handle a group of ruffians.”

  Oh dear. If my father didn’t take charge, the task was doomed.

  George left and I quickly grew restless. There was little to do at home except watch Celia adjust the hem on my gown and play cards with Cara. It rained briefly, but once it cleared I decided to walk to Grosvenor Street and see if Mrs. White was still at number twelve.

  The brisk stroll in the cool air worked wonders on my frustration and I arrived at Grosvenor Square very quickly. I watched number twelve for a short time but there was no sign of Mrs. White. Since the sky threatened rain once more, it was doubtful if she would take her charges out—if she did indeed still work there—so I decided to visit her instead.

  Well, not her exactly. I questioned a maid leaving via the servants’ stairs. She said Mrs. White had suddenly resigned her position as governess that afternoon, leaving the mistress a note and not even saying goodbye to her charges or the other staff. Apparently everyone in the household was shocked by her decision.

  I was not. Mrs. White must be worried that we would send the police to her door or, worse, Lord Preston. Hopefully Mrs. Stanley knew where to find her or our plan would come to naught. We needed Mrs. White to think I was delivering the curse so that she would not try to find anyone else in the meantime.

  It began to rain so I huddled under my umbrella as I headed back to Druids Way. Lucy had a welcoming cup of warm chocolate waiting for me. I sipped it in the cozy private parlor as Celia worked on the hem of my gown and Cara dozed by the fireplace. It was terribly difficult not to wonder how George, Theo, and Louis fared as night fell. How far had they traveled? Where would they stay overnight? Was my father a good horseman and what did he think of their strange task? I didn’t like thinking of the three of them confronting an unpredictable gypsy tribe, but it was better to do that than let my mind wonder to Jacob.

  I felt sick to my stomach whenever I recalled how he looked the last few times I’d seen him. It was like watching a pair of butterfly wings slowly disintegrate in the sun. Soon he would be nothing. Not even a spirit. My heart clenched like a fist and punched into my ribs. I may never see him again, neither in this realm nor in the Otherworld. If Mrs. White succeeded, we would never be together.

  Eternity without the man I loved was a bleak and miserable prospect.

  I set down my chocolate cup because my shaking hands could no longer hold it steady.

  “At least we have something pleasant to look forward to,” Celia said, studying her handiwork.

  I stared at her, trying to think through the mire of dark thoughts clogging my mind. But I could not. All I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and make Jacob better through sheer willpower.

  When I didn’t answer, Celia looked up. She frowned but said nothing. “All this business with the spirits, Louis’ return, and now the cancelations…we deserve an enjoyable evening.”

  “Yes, of course,” I said, not really listening.

  “How many dances has Theo reserved with you?”

  “How many…? You mean the ball?” I shrugged. “I don’t recall. None, I think.”

  Celia dropped her hands to her lap and regarded me. “What do you mean? He must have reserved some dances. He’s very taken with you. It’s as clear as the nose on my face.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “Perhaps he has. I don’t remember.”

  “Emily.” I could tell from the tone of her voice that I was about to receive a lecture. Ordinarily I would make excuses and leave, but I no longer cared. Let her say whatever was on her mind. What did it matter anymore? “Emily, do not let him think you are in love with another.”

  “I’m not. I mean, I’m not giving him that impression.” At least, I didn’t think so. I sighed. “I’m sure we’ll dance together tomorrow night.”

  “You are looking forward to the ball, are you not?”

  “Of course. I just wish there were not so many other burdens to be endured. It colors the experience somewhat.”

  “I know, Em, I know. But you will resolve this as you’ve resolved the other situations. I have the utmost faith in you, my girl.” Her quiet, determined voice compelled me to look at her. Tears shone in her eyes but she was smiling a little. It was not a smile I could decipher. “Emily, if he declares himself at the ball, what will you say?”

  “Declares himself! Oh…I…do you think he will?”

  “I think it likely. Please, do not throw away this opportunity. Emily…being settled to a good man is not an easy thing to achieve. There are not too many to be had, unfortunately.” She looked down at her fingers, still clutching the needle and the hem of my gown. “Take my situation, for example. I had three men court me. If I’d known then what I know now, I would have accepted one.”

  “Do not think like that, Celia. They were good men, but you didn’t love any of them. Mama knew it, as did I.” I moved to sit beside her and covered her hand with my own. She did not look up but her lashes were damp even though her cheeks were dry. “Celia, a lifetime is a long time to be with someone you don’t love.”

  “Oh, Emily.” She heaved a deep sigh. “I commend you for your idealism. I really do. But making decisions based on your heart’s desire can lead to disaster. In Mama’s case, it did not, but in mine…in mine…” She sniffed and closed her eyes. I squeezed her hands harder. “In mine, waiting for love has led me to long years of loneliness. I should not have waited. I would have been perfectly happy with one of those other men. Good, solid men with good, solid work. They’re all married now, and they’re all happy.”

  I withdrew my hands. “And you are not.”

  She looked up sharply. Her eyes were large pools. “Oh, Em! No, I did
n’t mean that. I am very happy with you. And with Cara. I adore you, you know that.”

  “But you are not fulfilled. Something is missing.” Until I’d said it, I didn’t realize how much I understood my sister. She did love me. I knew that without a doubt. But one day I would move on. As would Cara. Celia craved something that was just hers alone, forever. A husband to cherish always, children, a home that had her stamp on it, not Mama’s.

  “Do not wait, Emily. Do not throw your future away over a man who can never be there. This love you feel for him…it will fade over time.”

  I shook my head and was about to protest, but she put a finger to my lips, shushing me.

  “It will always be within you, like a dull ache, but the intensity will dampen and other loves will make up for its loss. Children, a husband who adores you. And Theo does love you. Any fool can see it. Please…love him back or at least accept him and care for him. For your sake. And for Jacob’s.”

  “Jacob?” I swallowed but couldn’t dislodge the lump in my throat.

  “If he loves you, he will want you to have a full life. He would not wish you to be unhappy, not even for a moment, let alone decades.”

  Tears slid down my cheeks and dripped off my chin onto my lap. “He does want my happiness.” I was shaking, my body quivering like a jelly. “He said…he said Theo would be good to me.”

  She put her arm around my shoulders and pulled me to her. Our foreheads touched and although I couldn’t see her face, I knew she was crying too. “Then you must marry Theo Hyde. Live long with him at your side, love him and be loved in return. You deserve nothing less.”

  My heart cracked and I turned into her shoulder. Great, heaving sobs wracked me and I felt like I was being turned inside out, my soul exposed. I had always prided myself on being emotionally strong, but at that moment, I felt as weak as a little child. It was a long time before I could speak and when I did, my voice did not sound like my own. “I do want to give up being a medium, performing at soirees and afternoon teas. I’m tired of it, Celia. I suppose Theo could give me a life where I don’t have to do it anymore.”