Part 2 (2/2)

I smiled slightly. There was no way even someone who loved Miss Richenda could defend her taste.

*I know you think it's all a show,' said Madam Arcana as we entered the parlour. *But the spirits are real.'

I smiled and nodded and made to take my leave. Madam Arcana caught me by the arm. It was not a bruising grip, but it was surprisingly strong. *I saw you looking. That first time. Not watching the gla.s.s.'

*I-I didn't move it!'

*No, of course you didn't, dear. You clearly disapprove of such things. You have the look of someone brought up in a vicarage, which is why I wonder if the message could be for you.'

*Message?' I said. Unruly hairs on the back of my neck were now standing straight up.

*Harris, the servant a that was one of the men. Heaven knows Lord Stapleford was drunk enough to do it himself, but Mr Tipton also strikes me as a foolish sort of young fellow.'

*Do you mean the message about the child?' I asked aghast, focusing on how this might relate to me.

*No, no. That was false as well,' said Madam Arcana waving her free hand dismissively. *Really if people want to pay me money to watch them move their own gla.s.sware around the table it is their own business.' She released me and headed for the biscuit plate. *Although, of course, if that's all that happens it can tend to give one a bit of a reputation. It's a pity Lady Grey was here. I was hopeful about that.'

*Beatrice? But Mr Tipton said it wasn't a real t.i.tle.'

Madam Arcana sank down in a billow of scarves. A small smile played across her lips. She knew she had my interest. *Beatrice Wilton. She's one of the Wilton newspaper family. They own them, of course, as opposed to write in 'em. Bea's the exception. They let her write a little column about gossip a Lady Grey's Notes. It gets her invited to all the right parties, which is all the Wiltons want, but Bea, if I'm not mistaken, wants a little more. I think,' she leaned conspiratorially forward and whispered, *she might consider herself a writer.' She sat back, tutting and shaking a head. *Very nasty for the family. Of course one knows writers, but no one wants one in the family.'

*What makes you think she has, er, aspirations?'

*Long words, dear. She uses long words. In her column and even over dinner. Not the done thing at all.'

*But surely if she's writing a gossip column she is a writer,' I persisted.

Madam Arcana took an enormous bite out of a biscuit and slurped some tea. *Not the same thing. Ladies like a little gossip and like to see bits about themselves in the papers. Men, being the dominant gender or so we let them think, write news. It gives them the illusion that they run things. None of the Wilton papers would ever allow a member of the weaker s.e.x to write actual news.'

*I see,' I said. Though it must have been plain I didn't. *Anyway, if you have everything you need ...'

*Oh yes, tickety-boo,' said Madam Arcana. *Your Mrs Wilson has made the tea exactly to my instructions. Dry old stick, but she knows her job. Definitely a touch of the good stuff in this.'

I blinked and backed towards the door.

*Message, ah yes. These things sometimes come through to me. Especially when I'm focusing. Even if my attendees are up to their own tricks. An older man, kindly, vicarly, I'd say if pushed, but not on record ...'

*A vicar?' I clenched my fists. Of course, if she'd been asking around the servants she might have heard reports I grew up in a vicarage. I'd been foolish enough to tell Rory that although it was at odds with what I had told the Staplefords. A horrible thought struck me a was Madam Arcana trying to blackmail me?

*Oh, they come through all the time. Terribly annoying. But as I tell them there's no point preaching. Stands to reason anyone in the room hasn't heeded the church's warnings or they wouldn't be there, so why they should listen to a clergyman just because he's dead ... Though I suppose you'd expect them to have a better handle on how the afterlife works from a professional point of view. But honestly, they never have anything good for a seance. It's all about lost cats, elderly relatives and church roofs.'

*I don't work here,' I said trying to avert any attempt to winkle family secrets from me. *I'm on Mr Bertram's staff. We were flooded out.'

*That explains why he was babbling about rising waters,' said Madam Arcana promptly.

I began to feel rather angry. The woman was definitely trying to trick me. I did my best to copy my mother's haughtiest expression.3 *I strongly doubt the message was for me.'

*And if he doesn't think you're the image of your mother when you do that,' said Madam Arcana laughing.

*He's here?'

Madam Arcana shook her head. *It's difficult to explain a especially to non-believers. It's more a sense of a person a an impression a and it tends to stay for a short while before it fades. But no, I wouldn't say he was here.'

*In that case,' I said opening the door.

*He said to tell you to beware your enemies.' Madam Arcana shook her head. *No, that's not it. He said: ”Beware for your enemies”. Doesn't make a lot of sense to me, but hopefully you'll figure it out. He seemed rather agitated about it. And there was a feeling too. Like something very bad was going to happen. But there you go. Spirits are always trying to put the w.i.l.l.i.e.s up us mortals. I sometimes think it's the only fun they get.' She settled back against the cus.h.i.+ons and closed her eyes. *Probably nothing for you to worry about, dear.'

*No,' I said.

Madam Arcana opened one eye. *I mean, it's not like you feel that too, is it?'

I didn't reply but closed the door quietly behind me. I made my way quickly to my chamber. As I undressed in the dark I found, to my annoyance, I was shaking. The wretched woman had been right. I couldn't put my finger on it and I certainly didn't believe it was anything to do with spirits, but from the moment I'd stepped through the portals of Stapleford Hall I had been experiencing a rising sense of dread and right now, as I blew out my candle, and sent my room into pitch blackness, I was so afraid of what was to come that my heart was hammering like a drum.

When I reached my long-awaited bed sleep perversely did not come easily. I must have been dozing when the disturbance came because I found myself halfway down the stairs before I was fully awake. Rory and I arrived in the hall at the same time. I blushed furiously. I had not thought to s.n.a.t.c.h up my dressing gown the noise had been so terrible and my nightgown was certainly not adequate dress for an innocent nocturnal meeting. *Did you hear that?' I asked, trying to cover my embarra.s.sment. *Someone is in terrible trouble.'

Rory's eyes flickered over my dress and he turned his head away. *Euphemia, get back to bed!' he said.

At this point Mr Bertram appeared, running. He looked from one of us to the other and his face grew dark with anger. *What are you doing ...?'

He was interrupted by a crash and a cry, similar to the one that had awoken me. *It wasn't a dream,' I said.

The sounds echoed around us in the large hall. *Which way?' asked Mr Bertram, temporarily forgetting his righteous anger. But Rory had keener ears than either of us and he was already off, running towards the kitchen.

*Euphemia, stay here,' barked Mr Bertram and headed after him.

Of course I did no such thing. It was clearly a woman screaming and to be found in whatever dire predicament we all obviously feared without female support to hand was not to be thought of.

I pelted along the corridor. There was another loud cry and then came the sound of fighting. I realised it was coming from Mrs Wilson's room. But why would anyone ... I had no time to complete the thought as a man in black with a scarf wrapped around his head appeared from around the corner. He was running at full tilt. I tried to dodge out of the way, but servants' pa.s.sages are always narrow. I had one glimpse of glittering blue eyes, before I was roughly pushed aside. He caught me completely off balance. I staggered on the spot, trying to regain my balance, but my bare feet slipped on the tiles and I went down. My head met the wall and blackness overwhelmed me.

I came round to the sound of voices.

*d.a.m.n it, I had him,' said Rory.

*How was I to know?' snapped Mr Bertram. *I was coming to help you.'

*And a fine help you turned out to be. I had him against the door if you hadn't opened it.'

*How dare you talk to me like this!'

*I'm no on yer staff. You let yon madman get away. Nay woman is safe in the household now. If he'd go after Mrs Wilson ...'

*Quite,' said Mr Bertram in a very different tone.

*I'm thinking it was because she was on the ground floor.'

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