by M C Dulac
Elise tried to stop a porter, but did not understand what he said. A second man listened to her, frowning as the whistles rang out, and pointed to the far side of the station.
“Get tickets there, Miss,” he said.
Elise approached the ticket seller. She held out her gold coin.
“Where’d you want to go, Miss?”
“As far as I can go for a crown.”
The man stared at her. “You have a governess with you?”
“No, I am traveling on my own.”
The man paused. Elise realised she had no idea how to buy tickets in this new world. She glanced at a poster on the wall.
“I am visiting friends in Warwickshire,” she said.
“Warwickshire?”
Elise nodded firmly.
“Right, so a ticket to Coventry then.”
“To Warwickshire.”
“That’ll get you there. Will they be there to collect you, Miss?”
“I believe so.”
The man rubbed his chin. Elise was thankful a queue was forming behind her and the man had no time to ask anything else.
“Platform one, Miss,” he gestured across the station. “Although there’s a delay because of the derailment.”
“Derailment?”
The man rolled his eyes. “All fine, Miss, just wait.”
Elise clutched the ticket and sat among the other passengers. A train came in and many of the people rose from their seats. She tried to join them, but the porter said that her ticket was for another train.
“Leaves in an hour, Miss.”
“One hour?”
The porter nodded, before helping a gentleman into the carriage.
The noise of the trains gave her a headache and Elise wandered outside. She heard a familiar cry and saw flower girls milling at the entrance to the station.
Lydia was there with her basket. Elise remembered Euston Station was her regular haunt.
“Hello, Miss,” Lydia’s eyes shone. “Can I offer you a pansy? Go ever so well with your dress.”
Elise bought one with her change.
“I hear the flowers worked a treat the other night. Mrs. Bell said you had mixed up some sort of medicine for Georgia and then Rosie got the flowers that cured you. Better than a doctor they said.”
Lydia quickly scanned for customers then returned her glance to Elise. “Lucky you left the house this morning though.”
“Why is that?”
“The police came by.”
“The police?”
Lydia grinned broadly. “Six of them!”
“But why?” a wave of fear rushed through Elise, heightening her pulse and turning her blood cold. Even if Wyatt traced her to Cramley Court, he could only threaten and bluster. Mrs. Bell and Georgia did not know where she was going and had no information to give him.
“We don’t get much trouble in Cramley Court,” Lydia said. “We’re poor but an honest lot. Never thought that about Georgia though.”
“Thought what?”
Lydia had been keeping her eye on the passersby, smiling and curtseying as she showed off the flowers. Now she turned to Elise and dropped her voice. “It all happened at eleven o’clock this morning. Peelers came rushing into the yard. Some of the blokes above the cookhouse went scrambling, but the peelers weren’t looking for them. They were demanding to see Georgia. Well, Mrs. Bell said Georgia was in her room. They barge up the stairs, Mrs. Bell said, making ever so much noise and burst open the door. Took Georgia and the little one away with them.”
“The little one?”
“Rosie, Miss. Clinging to her mother’s skirts and weeping like an infant.”
“Take them away? Where?”
“Newgate Prison, I guess.”
“But why?”
A gentleman and his wife stopped and admired the pansies.
Elise waited while Lydia handed him a bunch and gave him change. Each second seemed an eternity.
“Georgia owed some money to the lady she makes hats for,” Lydia resumed the story. “Georgia wanted more work, since she’s saving up for the voyage to America. The lady makes her pay for materials sometimes and apparently Georgia had a debt. So Georgia gave her a couple of shillings. I don’t know how Georgia would get that much money, but as I say, you never know people. The woman looked at the coins afterwards, and you’ll never guess what -”
Elise’s pulse raced. “What? Please tell me.”
“Georgia always was too good for us. Says her husband died and we believed it, but you never know people.”
“Lydia, if you please, can you tell me why Georgia was arrested?”
“The coins, Miss. They were a forgery!” Lydia’s eyes lit up with relish. “Made from real gold, but they weren’t made in the Royal Mint. Whoever forged them made a mistake. The engravings were wrong. And apparently Georgia had given another coin to her landlady a few days ago. Before you came to the house, Miss. You’ll never guess but that coin was also forged. Fake it was! All fake!”
Elise felt the ground shift beneath her feet.
“So they dragged Georgia and the little one away. Everyone saw it and there was ever such a commotion. The crowd followed them halfway down the street. Hope they don’t transport them to Australia in the prison ship. That’s what happens to forgers. Although they might send Rosie to the workhouse. Georgia said she didn’t forge the coins. But where did she get them?”
A train had come in and the passengers were pouring out of the station. Lydia’s eyes lit up and she put on her most charming smile as she lifted her basket.
The porter helped a large couple to a carriage then called out to Elise.
“Your train to Warwickshire is here now. Please hurry, Miss.”
All of London spun around her. The train was waiting. Her freedom was only minutes away. If it had not been delayed she would have gone on, never knowing the havoc she had left behind. The havoc that every alchemist created, the reason why they had to hide from the world. Albert Price had warned her. Gold and greed created endless misery.
She could not leave now. She had to help Georgia and Rosie. But who could advocate on their behalf? Champillon was somewhere in France. She had no friends in London and knew no gentleman who could intervene and save them. There was no one whose mercy she could seek.
“I’ll take your bag, Miss,” the porter approached.
There was however one man in London who could set Rosie and Georgia free. One man who knew magistrates and judges and had power and influence. One man who would be willing to trade with her.
It was time she met him - the figure who had pursued her since Little Bingham.
It was time to pay a visit to Barnabas Wyatt.
Chapter Twenty
Elise walked out of Euston Station. She had thought she was a true alchemist at last, free of all worldly concerns, ready to discover the wonders of nature. She saw her future in open meadows under starry skies. Her heart was settled and she was ready to seek the path of pure discovery.
But she had fallen into the same trap as Albert Price. She had used her gold coins to ensure her safety. But by giving her coin to Rosie, she had caused the child’s downfall. She had created this problem. She could not let Rosie and her mother suffer because of her actions.
She was prepared to trade. Dealing with Barnabas Wyatt would be dangerous, but it was the only way to secure Georgia and Rosie’s freedom.
She glimpsed her reflection in a shop window and saw the same haunted expression that Albert Price often wore. It was hard to balance being a noble alchemist with bargaining with men like Wyatt.
An omnibus was stopped nearby. She bought a ticket from the conductor and squeezed in with the other passengers. The omnibus dropped her near Temple Bar. She weaved her way through the teeming streets until she reached the quiet surrounds of Grosvenor Square, Mayfair.
She asked a maid which house was Barnabas Wyatt’s. The maid pointed to an imposing townhouse. Taking a deep breath, Elise ascended the
steps and knocked on a shiny front door.
A manservant answered and declared Mr. Wyatt was not at home.
“Then you must send him a message at once,” Elise’s tone was firm. “Elise du Bois wishes to meet him. It is concerning Albert Price’s letters and the house in Little Bingham.”
The manservant narrowed his eyes. He opened the door further. “You can wait in the parlour, Miss.”
Elise entered the darkened hall. The air was heavy and scented. The servant guided her into the front room.
The parlour looked like an overstuffed treasure cave. Gas lamps hung from the ceiling, glowing orange. A thick green carpet lay under her feet and velvet chairs were scattered around the room. Heavy lace curtains covered the window, overlaid with red velvet curtains adorned with gold tassels. Long tusks were mounted in rows on the wall, next to animal heads and gold-framed pictures. Vases, statuettes and crockery lined every shelf and cabinet. The golden candlesticks on the mantelpiece were squat, glinting in the gas lamps.
A strange stuffed animal stood on one table. It had a furry body, webbed feet and a large bill like a duck. A plaque on the stand said ‘Australian Platypus’. Another table was crowded with preserved birds with glassy eyes and colourful feathers.
Much had been acquired, but she did not sense any personal taste to the collection. She was left with the impression that the owner of this room was thoughtless and avaricious.
There was a book on the table. Elise glanced at the open pages. It was a book about ancient Rome, describing sin and gluttony in great detail. Several passages were underlined. Elise closed the cover.
I do not like this man.
A heavy wooden clock chimed the hour. Elise heard a door open. In the hall, she glimpsed the beak-like profile of Mrs. Wyatt. Another half hour went by.
Elise wondered where Georgia and Rosie were. She thought of the huge hulking walls of Newgate Prison and imagined the damp prison yards and overcrowded cells. How long could they survive in such a place? Her heart raced as each minute passed and she wrung her hands together nervously.
A carriage pulled up outside the house. Elise peered through the lace gauze. Someone was walking up the front steps. The main door opened and she heard a distinctive voice.
“Very well,” Barnabas Wyatt boomed. “I shall deal with her.”
The servant entered the room, stood aside and bowed his head. Barnabas Wyatt strode into the parlour, still wearing his great coat. He was a short man, shorter than he had appeared at the podium. He took off his gloves and hat, handing them to a second servant who scurried away. Through the doorway, Elise glimpsed Mrs. Wyatt and the maids craning their necks.
Wyatt nodded to the servants, who left, closing the door.
“So, madam, you have come at last. You are very sensible. It is better to speak to me than the police.”
“I am not here about the false warrant,” Elise said confidently, although her throat was dry and her hands clammy. “There is a young girl and her mother being held in prison somewhere in London. I want them freed immediately. And I want you to arrange a passage on a ship to America for them tonight.”
“Prison? You seem to mix with the criminal classes.”
“They are good people. They are in jail because of a coin. A coin I gave them. It is real gold, but not made in your Treasury.”
“You mean it is alchemist’s gold.”
“You can call your police now, if you wish, and take me away. Charge me with forgery or sedition. But if I am locked up in one of your prisons, that is no good to you.”
“You sound like you wish to negotiate with me,” Wyatt smiled. “I do not bargain with women,” his eyes narrowed, “at least women of virtue.”
“But I have something of value that you want, isn’t that right, Monsieur?”
Elise was surprised at her outward coolness. Inside her heart was racing and the blood thumping in her temples.
Wyatt paced the room. “Go on.”
“You found letters concerning a man named Albert Price. You have correctly deduced that he had powers beyond a mere scientist and that he had uncovered the secrets of alchemy. It is true that I was Price’s servant in Paris and I witnessed his work.”
A look of delight spread over Wyatt’s features. “You can perform his magic?”
Elise did not like the word. Price had always spoken of magic with distaste. Foolish people thought alchemy was magic. But since Wyatt liked the word, Elise nodded.
“That is what I offer in return for the freedom of the girl and her mother.”
“If you have these powers, why would you care about the poor? London is full of them and always will be. If they are not in jail, they will be wretched in other ways. That is the way of the common man.”
“The father died in an accident, that is why they are poor.”
Wyatt waved his hand. “If you have power to rise above this, why bother with them?”
“Because I will not be free, if they are not free,” Elise reflected. “Those are my terms. Arrange their release and passage tonight and then I will speak to you.”
“Cunning minx,” Wyatt said. “If I do this, will you make gold for me?”
“As much as you require. I will need a place to work.”
“I have a cellar in the yard. That way you do not have to leave here. You shall be my guest.”
“So you agree to free the child?”
“When you show me gold.”
“Gold takes many moons to make. You will know that surely.”
Wyatt rubbed his chin. “Then they can stay where they are.”
“The mother is recovering from an illness. The girl is small and weak. They cannot last long in prison. They must be released tonight.”
“You are in no position to give me orders.”
“Then you will not have your gold.”
Wyatt lowered his head and stood before the door.
“I have no doubt Albert Price was an alchemist. My enquiries confirm that he had discovered the elixir of life and that he had the ability to make gold. Jean-Louis Champillon is an alchemist too, although his current whereabouts are unknown. I am also aware of the existence of a book of magic, a green book that is somewhere in London, that contains all the secrets. It is true Price’s maid was called Elise. But how do I know that you are not just a charlatan who has learned the story.”
“I said I will make you gold.”
“And do you have any of this gold to show me now?”
“No. I spent my last gold crown.”
Wyatt folded his arms. “Then that is a problem. Your wretched friends can stay in jail until you make me gold. If they perish in the coming weeks, I wash my hands of it.”
Elise hung her head. She felt the weight of the green book in her bag. Should she offer the book to Wyatt? But if she did, he would have no need to bargain with her. But what could she do? An alchemist could not perform tricks like a magician.
Wyatt took a deep breath, puffing up his chest. “I believe, young woman, that you are a fraud. This is all a scheme to trick an honest, upright gentleman. I will give you a place to work, as a matter of generosity and decency, and give you the chance to prove your story. But be aware, that I could send for the police at any moment.”
Elise frowned. Wyatt had outwitted her. Now she had stumbled under his control and he had all the power on his side.
Outside night was falling. The oil lamps burnt low. The maids had not got the room ready for evening. With the heavy furnishings and curtains, the room was almost dark. If Wyatt wanted a trick, she had one to show him.
She turned down the lamp.
Wyatt growled uncomfortably but before he could call out for a servant, she faced him.
“You asked if I am Elise du Bois. I am. I was born in 1802 in France. I drank the elixir of life in 1820 and I am an alchemist.”
She caught her reflection on a gold plate on the mantelpiece. Her blue eyes glowed as bright as a cat’s.
Wyatt gasped and
murmured.
“I offer you my services. But I warn you let me work in peace and do not lay a hand on me. I want the child and her mother freed and a carriage to the docks booked tonight.”
Wyatt was trembling and his hands were fumbling for the table. When she turned up the lamp he was breathing fast. He composed himself and smiled, pointing to a writing desk.
“Write down their names. I will find out where they are being held.”
Elise crossed the room, writing out Rosie and Georgia’s first names, address and the details of their arrest. Wyatt took the paper. Without reading it, he opened the door and clicked his fingers.
A young man, dressed like Ed, appeared.
“Take this to Judge Parsons and tell him to find this woman and child and release them.”
“And book the carriage,” Elise said.
Wyatt rolled his eyes. He reached into his waistcoat. “Meet the woman and child wherever they are held and then take them to docks. Get Samuel to go to the shipping company and pay for their passage to New York - steerage.”
“Not steerage. A private cabin.”
“A private cabin, then,” Wyatt raised a coin.
“It must be done now.”
Wyatt nodded.
“They must leave London tonight.”
“Do as she wishes.”
The new Ed nodded. He was a tall, strong young man, just like his predecessor. He bowed to Wyatt then went into the hall. The servants whispered and the front door opened. A moment later Elise glimpsed the new Ed running down the front steps into the street.
Elise raised her chin, trying to summon a confidence she did not feel. “I shall wait here until I see the receipt from the shipping company.”
“By all means. The windows are locked and I will tell my servants that you are staying. I will get the cellar ready for you.”
Elise took a seat in a high-backed armchair, staring defiantly at Wyatt.
Wyatt went to the desk and tossed a paper and quill on the table beside her.
“Now write down what you need to begin work. You have traded your freedom for theirs. Do not forget - I expect to see gold.”
Elise nodded reluctantly. She kept her bag close, aware the green book was glowing beneath her cloak.