Evermore

by C. J. Archer

  “Emily…I did not know the extent of your dislike for your work.” She wiped away my tears with her thumbs. “I’m sorry, I—”

  “Don’t apologize. I know we needed the money and I wanted to help our situation. But if I were to wed Theo…” The idea of marrying him was still so new to me, I could not yet put it into words.

  “A lawyer would make a good wage,” she finished for me. “It won’t be necessary for you to work once you are wed.” She smiled through her tears. “Just as well because all of our séances have been canceled.”

  “All! Surely not everyone has heard about our last two failures. And if they have, I’m surprised they think that’s reason enough to cancel.”

  “It’s not just the difficulty summoning spirits. It’s worse.” She tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Some are saying you are a fraud, true, but others claim you release evil spirits.” She waved a hand in dismissal. “Ridiculous claims and I told them so.”

  I slumped back into the sofa. Celia, quite recovered, told me to sit up straight like a young lady. “So you see, you must secure Theo Hyde soon,” she said. “Tomorrow night. At the ball.” She nodded at Cara who still slept, or feigned sleep, by the fireplace. “Our future depends on it.”

  ***

  I lay awake in the darkness of my bedroom thinking about a life with Theo. Would I like to marry him? Could I do it? Every time I closed my eyes and thought about our wedding day and beyond, the face that came to me wasn’t Theo’s but Jacob’s. And when I thought about Jacob, and what lay ahead for him, I couldn’t stop crying. I sobbed into the pillow until there was no breath left in me and I could only make little gasping noises.

  “Don’t be sad.”

  I was so drained that I couldn’t even twitch in surprise at the sound of Jacob’s voice. I rolled over and could just make out his fuzzy outline in the darkness. With his superior spirit sight, he could probably see my puffy eyes and red nose. I didn’t care.

  “Jacob.” I sat up. “Are you all right? Should you be here? Doesn’t it make you weaker?”

  He sat on the edge of my bed near my hip. The mattress hardly depressed, so light was he. “You know I can’t stay away from you, no matter what.”

  “But—”

  “Shhh.” He leaned down and kissed my damp cheek. “Don’t worry about it. Tell me why you’re so upset.”

  “I…it’s nothing. Forget about me. Jacob, something important has happened. We discovered that Mrs. White is the one who killed you. She’s behind the curses. George, Theo, and Louis are fetching a counter curse as we speak.” I caressed his cheek with the back of my hand. “It’ll all be resolved very soon. Everything will return to normal in the Waiting Area and you…you will be able to crossover. We have your killer.”

  He sighed and his body seemed to relax a little. “Thank God,” he murmured. “Emily, you are a marvel.”

  “It was you who set us on the trail of Mrs. White. If you hadn’t discovered she was Frederick Seymour’s mother, we would still be in the dark.” I cupped his face in my hands. It was cold.

  “I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear you speak of this being over. So many spirits have gone. The Administrators too. There is only me and a handful of others holding on up there. It’s so difficult, Em. It takes so much out of me.”

  “Then you must go. Go back there and rest. Do not spend all your energy here.” I gave his shoulder a gentle shove, but he did not leave.

  He took my hands and pressed them to his lips. “Emily…I needed…” He disappeared and I held my breath, but thankfully he returned in the same position. “…need to see you…last time.”

  “This is not the last time.” I rose up on my knees on the bed and clutched his shirt, twisting the linen in my fists. “Jacob, it will soon be over. You must hang on until tomorrow night.”

  “…try.” He smiled sadly. “If all…well…crossover anyway. So this…bye.”

  “No! No, it’s not goodbye.” I shook my fists, still holding onto his shirt. Hot tears burned my cheeks again and it felt like they would never end. “I’m not ready. Not yet. Jacob…”

  He gently pried my fingers out of his shirt then drew me to him and wrapped his arms around me like a blanket. I cried into his chest until there was nothing left but deep, aching sorrow.

  We stayed like that, with my head tucked beneath his chin and his arms around me, for a long time. It wasn’t until he began to shiver that I pulled away.

  “You’re cold,” I said.

  “A little.”

  “Let me warm you.”

  “I don’t think…can.”

  “How do you know? Has anyone else tried?”

  “Jealous?” He sounded amused.

  “Come lie with me.” I lifted the edge of the bedcovers.

  “…shouldn’t.”

  “I don’t care about what we should and should not do. Jacob, this may be the last time we see each other. Can you not forget propriety for a few moments and lie with me?”

  I took his hand and guided him down. He rested his head on the pillow beside mine and stretched out his long legs beneath the covers. I linked my fingers with his between us.

  “Promise…not to…advantage of me?” he said with a smile in his voice.

  I laughed. “I’ll try, although I am sorely tempted.”

  “So am I,” he whispered.

  I leaned closer and found his mouth with my own. Our light, teasing kisses were like tiny sparks upon impact, then something within me ignited and I deepened the kiss. Warmth spread down my spine, between my thighs, all the way to my toes, and I hoped he felt it too. He groaned, a loud sound compared to the whispered words he’d been speaking. Then he broke the kiss but did not pull away.

  “Emily,” he murmured against my lips. “Ah, Em… wish…lie…forever.”

  “We will,” I heard myself say. “One day. We will be together.”

  “Promise…promise me…don’t give up…on life.” He lifted himself up on one elbow and regarded me from above. I wished it weren’t so dark so I could see him, but perhaps it was for the best that I couldn’t. The fierce intensity with which he spoke alarmed me enough. “Don’t…for me.”

  “I promise to live a full life here,” I said with as much conviction as my aching heart could muster. “But I cannot promise I will be happy.” I opened my arms and he lowered himself into them. “Satisfied?”

  His answer was a deep, shuddering sigh. We held each other, chest to chest and hip to hip, and there we stayed as he grew weaker toward dawn. Finally, as I lay in that foggy place between awake and sleep, he faded away completely.

  ***

  The Beaufort house in Belgrave Square was like a beacon in the clear spring night. Light blazed from all the windows and the lamps on the guests’ coaches formed a bright, swaying river along the street. Celia and I had intended to hire a hansom to take us but one of George’s carriages arrived unannounced, minus George of course. He’d thought of everything.

  We were delivered to the ball in grand style, made even grander by my gown. It was fit for a princess. Of the palest gold, it was decorated with ruffles of lace on the skirt and across the neckline, with an elegant bustle cascading to the floor at the back. A cluster of pink rosettes on each small sleeve at the shoulders matched the ones in my hair. No one who saw me would think me out of place at Adelaide Beaufort’s ball.

  It was difficult to appreciate the moment, however. The memory of Jacob’s body lying next to me, cold and weak, was still so strong and dampened my enthusiasm. Mrs. Stanley had not come to me with the counter curse, nor had George.

  We left our shawls with the maid in the ladies’ dressing room and joined the procession to greet Adelaide and her parents.

  “Where’s Mr. Culvert?” Adelaide whispered, after complimenting me on my gown.

  “Delayed,” I said. “He really wants to be here, but there was an urgent errand he had to make first.”

  Her smile slipped. “Oh. I do hope he won’t
be long. I’ve reserved two dances for him but if he doesn’t show soon, I’ll have to cross his name off my card.”

  “Keep the dances open,” I said. “He would be extremely disappointed to miss out.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “Would he? Oh, good. I mean, not good that he’d be disappointed, just good that he wishes to dance with me.”

  “Come along, Emily,” Celia said. “You’re holding everyone up.”

  “You look extraordinarily pretty tonight,” Adelaide said as I moved toward her mother. “I’m sure your dance card will fill quickly.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to dance, but I smiled anyway. “And you look lovely,” I told her. She did indeed. The pink gown set off her creamy complexion and she seemed to glow from within. I hoped her night would not be ruined.

  From the reception I received from Lord Preston, standing beside his wife, I wasn’t so sure the night would go off without a hitch. I got the distinct impression he didn’t want me there. I curtseyed to him as was required, but he barely acknowledged my presence, or Celia’s. We both moved into the ballroom as quickly as possible.

  “Odious man,” my sister muttered. She stopped short at the entrance to the grand ballroom. “Oh my. Emily, look at all these people!”

  Hundreds of men and women dressed in beautiful gowns and suits amassed around the edges of the room. Beyond them, I caught glimpses of dancers swirling to the music. Laughter and chatter created its own throbbing beat that pulsed through my limbs, my temples. The room itself seemed like a living, breathing thing, and I suddenly felt like a small creature in its path, a morsel to be devoured. I did not belong there. These fine people were not part of my world, nor I theirs.

  I edged closer to Celia, but she didn’t seem to notice my sudden timidity. “All these gentlemen,” she said, tugging the rosette on my sleeve down another inch. My shoulders were already bared, but she seemed to think that not enough. “There, better.”

  “Celia, we don’t know any gentlemen here,” I protested. “It’s all for no use.” A lady and gentleman could not introduce themselves, not even at a ball. They had to wait until a mutual acquaintance performed the introduction. The only people we knew there were Adelaide and her parents and they were busy greeting guests.

  “We shall have to wait for Lady Preston,” Celia said. “In the meantime, I see no reason for you to go unnoticed.”

  I saw every reason to go unnoticed among all those people. All those normal, high society people.

  We moved further into the room, the guests parting for us like a warm knife slicing through butter. Then the whispers began. Some turned away as I passed but others stared openly. One or two pointed.

  “…a fraud,” said a plump woman.

  “An odd creature,” said her friend.

  “No lady has hair like that.”

  “Lady Preston must have lost her mind…” said another.

  “…cannot summon a sneeze let alone a spirit.” That comment elicited a series of tinkling laughs from the listeners.

  “…malicious ghosts…”

  “Evil follows her.”

  “Are you surprised? Her kind are bad luck.”

  Celia’s arm tightened on mine as she steered me through the crowd. I felt their words as sharply as an elbow to the ribs or a blow to the head. Indeed, I suddenly felt as though I had been struck. The lights in the chandeliers above blurred, the room swum, and the overwhelming scent of perfume made me dizzy.

  “Air,” I gasped. “Celia…” My knees buckled and I swooned.

  “Here, Miss Chambers, follow me.” A man took firm hold of my other arm and I was half-marched, half-carried between he and Celia into another room. They settled me on a chair in the corner and I realized I was in the refreshment room. Being early, it was mercifully empty except for a handful of unfortunate girls who felt as uncomfortable in the ballroom as I did. Yet even they turned their backs and began whispering to each other behind their hands. I suppose it is always a happy event to see someone less fortunate that yourself.

  “Emily, are you all right?” asked Celia, sitting beside me. She held my hand so hard it was beginning to tingle.

  I nodded and squinted at the back of my rescuer as he stood at the refreshment table. He was large with thinning blond hair. I recognized him immediately.

  “Thank you, Mr. Arbuthnot,” I said when he approached with two glasses of lemonade. I accepted one and Celia took the other.

  “That was very kind of you to help us,” she said. “Emily isn’t used to balls, you see. Perhaps the lights, the people…” Her excuses were unnecessary. We all knew the real reason for my shock. I hated being the center of attention, but to have so many people staring and talking about me at once was like drowning in mud. I felt the weight of their opinions pressing down on me, suffocating.

  “Do you feel better, Miss Chambers?” he asked, all politeness. He didn’t mention the whispers and stares. He was a true gentleman.

  “Much better. Thank you.” I felt a little sheepish. I’d forgotten he would be at the ball. I hadn’t seen Theo’s cousin for two weeks, not since the spirit of Mortlock had possessed him then exited his body to enter George’s. We’d never told Wallace Arbuthnot what had happened, but I’d often wondered if he remembered any of it, or if he guessed. George had eventually recalled some events and I thought Wallace might too, but then George was aware of the supernatural whereas Wallace was still in the dark. Or so we assumed.

  “You look better already,” he said, cheerfully. “I would offer to dance with you, but I’ve two left feet. I’m afraid dancing with me is a fate most young ladies wish to avoid.”

  The door to the balcony opened and a young woman in an exquisite pale blue dress entered the refreshment room. She checked her red curls were still pinned securely and adjusted the gown at her breast so that it didn’t reveal quite so much of her luscious figure. With her head dipped, she hurried past us and out of the room, but not before I saw her secretive smile. Celia clicked her tongue and Wallace pretended he hadn’t noticed, but I was glad someone was enjoying themselves with their lover on the balcony. Perhaps I could escape out there later.

  “It’s a shame you don’t dance, Mr. Arbuthnot,” Celia said, picking up the thread of our conversation. “However, it may be best if Emily avoided the activity altogether too. Perhaps you could introduce her to some of your friends instead. We know so few people here, you see.”

  I wanted to kick her. Her blatant bad manners were so unlike her, although I suppose it was a testament to her desperation. No doubt she would prefer Theo be the one to rescue me, but since he wasn’t there, she probably thought she should find me a substitute marital prospect. I sighed and wished Mrs. Stanley would interrupt my misery.

  “I would be delighted to introduce you to my friends,” Wallace said, with no false enthusiasm that I could detect. “But you know more people here than you think, Miss Chambers. My cousin, Theodore Hyde, is around somewhere.”

  “Theo?” I shook my head. “No, he’s with George Culvert. They had an, uh, urgent errand to run.”

  Wallace’s chins wobbled as he shook his head. “You’re mistaken, Miss Chambers. Theo is definitely here. We came together. He wouldn’t miss an occasion like this for the world.”

  Theo was at the ball? The evening suddenly didn’t seem so awful.

  “Ah, there he…oh.” Wallace cleared his throat and moved to block my view.

  But I’d already seen Theo, and seen the direction from which he’d come—the door leading out to the balcony. The same door through which the redheaded girl had entered moments before. It was clear to anyone who saw her that she’d had an assignation with a lover and came in ahead of him to throw off suspicion.

  That lover was Theo.

  CHAPTER 11

  Celia gasped loudly and Theo stopped dead. His eyes widened when he saw us and I could see the moment when he realized we knew what he’d been doing out on the balcony. He seemed to be caught between approaching us and runnin
g away.

  I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I was much too stunned to form coherent sentences.

  Celia gripped my hand and set down her glass on the table beside her. She said nothing, but I could feel the anger simmering inside her through our linked hands.

  Wallace’s cough shattered the uneasy silence. “I, uh, have to go and…” He bowed to us then scuttled out of the refreshment room.

  To my great surprise, Theo didn’t follow him. I commended him for his bravery. I would not want to face Celia at such a moment if I were in his shoes.

  “May we have a few minutes?” he asked her.

  Celia’s grip tightened. “You dare to—”

  “Celia,” I said sharply. “I’d like to speak to Theo. Alone.”

  I thought she wouldn’t leave, but finally she rose. With a savage glare that was lost on Theo because he wasn’t looking at her but at me, she strode to the refreshment table, out of earshot. I lifted both my eyebrows at her and she turned her back and stood as rigid as a pole.

  “Well,” I said. “This is rather awkward.”

  “Emily…” Theo drew in a breath. “Hell.”

  “It is, isn’t it? Perhaps you should sit down. I find that helps when I’m feeling nauseous.”

  He sat in the seat Celia had vacated, eyeing me carefully as if I were a bubble about to burst in his face. “Emily, I’m so sorry.” At least he had the decency not to proclaim his innocence.

  “Don’t be. I’m not. Stunned, yes, but not sorry.”

  He blinked rapidly. “Why not? Why aren’t you angry with me? I deserve it. God, how I deserve it.”

  “How can I be sorry when I don’t love you?”

  “You don’t?” He frowned. “But I thought…I thought we had something special. I thought…that you loved me. I certainly loved you.”

  The absurdity made me laugh. Celia glanced over her shoulder at us. “Theo, how can you love me considering…?” I waved my hand at the door leading out to the balcony. “…considering that?”

  “What Suzette and I share is not love, Emily. That is…self-preservation.”