Part 4 (1/2)
”I'm just saying what's true.”
”On the contrary, there's not a bit of truth to it.”
”How do you know people haven't ever died here?”
”I suppose it's very possible that they have. I'm sure many generations have come and gone in this house, but that in no way means there are specters here. When people pa.s.s, their souls go to Eternum. Their spirits don't remain in this world.”
”What about those who don't get to go to Eternum?” Lily said. ”The Testament says that not everyone goes there, not if they're wicked.”
”There is another place for the spirits of wicked people.” Ivy looked at Rose and gave her a smile that she hoped would be rea.s.suring. ”The only place where specters exist is in the books Lily has been reading of late, which also concern princesses and pirates. As we have neither of rea.s.suring. ”The only place where specters exist is in the books Lily has been reading of late, which also concern princesses and pirates. As we have neither of those those in our house, I'm sure we have no specters either.” in our house, I'm sure we have no specters either.”
”How can you be certain?” Rose said, holding Miss Mew tight and resting her cheek against the cat's mottled fur.
Ivy set down the book, then went to the sofa and sat beside Rose.
”Look there.” She pointed to the fireplace. The mantel was carved with intricate designs, and in the center was one of the many eyes to be found throughout the house. The eye was shut now, but at other times it was open, watching them as they sewed or talked. Since the workmen had no reason to enter this room at the moment, Ivy had left it uncovered.
”Father placed many enchantments and protections on this dwelling. The house is always keeping vigil to make certain we are safe.”
Rose hesitated, then nodded. ”Sometimes I feel as if it's alive-as if it's watching us and listening to our voices, and noticing when we go from one room to another.” She did not speak as if these were awful or alarming things, but instead with a fondness in her voice.
”Do you believe in spirits, Mrs. Seenly?” Lily said as the housekeeper entered the parlor with a tray.
Ivy felt a note of exasperation. ”Lily!”
”It's quite all right, ma'am,” Mrs. Seenly said as she set down the tray. ”I don't mind her asking. Aye, of course I believe in spirits.”
Lily gave Ivy a triumphant look, then turned her attention back to the housekeeper. ”Have you ever seen one?”
”I can't say that I have.”
”Then how do you know that they exist?”
”Well, how do we know that G.o.d exists, or Eternum?” She uncovered a plate of biscuits, then proceeded to pour tea. ”Now, men of learning are very clever these days. They'll tell you that no one's ever measured a spirit's footprints or detected a change in the air caused by the comings and goings of a phantom. But we know in our hearts that even though some things can't be seen or touched, that doesn't mean they aren't real.” our hearts that even though some things can't be seen or touched, that doesn't mean they aren't real.”
Mrs. Seenly spoke the words lightly, but all the same a clamminess crept across Ivy's skin. She could not help thinking of the whispering voices she had heard a few nights ago.
”Do you think there are any specters in this house?” Rose said with a worried look.
”Here?” Mrs. Seenly clucked her tongue. ”Oh, I should think not, what with all the hubbub of hammering and pounding going on. If I were a spirit, I am sure I would want for a dark and quiet place. No, if there were ever any spirits here, they're sure to have all been driven out.”
”Thank you, Mrs. Seenly,” Ivy said gently.
”Of course, ma'am,” she replied, and left the room.
Ivy was grateful for the housekeeper's cheerful words. An a.s.surance that the house was free of spirits could only be more compelling coming from Mrs. Seenly, who was a woman of superst.i.tion, rather than from an elder sister who was known to be a skeptic. Indeed, after that there was no further talk of specters or phantoms as they took their tea.
As the sounds of work continued from above, a more musical sound drifted through the window as the bells in the church of St. Simeons chimed the arrival of the last farthing of the day. Ivy had been glad to discover there was a church so near the house, just down the street. She listened to the bells and waited for the sound of the mantel clock to join in.
The tolling ceased, but still there came no echoing chime from within the sitting room. Perplexed, Ivy went to the fireplace and examined the clock on the mantel. It was the very clock she remembered seeing in the house as a small girl. Its housing was of rosewood, inlaid with pieces stained different hues and shaped like planets and suns and comets.
The clock had three faces, each the size of a saucer. The middle face showed the hour like a usual timepiece. However, the left face depicted the phases of the moon, from Darkeve to Brightday back to Darkeve again, while the right face showed the progression from day to night. Ivy had loved watching this latter face the most as a girl, for on short lumenals the clock turned so quickly that she could actually see it moving: a black disk spinning downward to cover one of gold as day gave way to night. from day to night. Ivy had loved watching this latter face the most as a girl, for on short lumenals the clock turned so quickly that she could actually see it moving: a black disk spinning downward to cover one of gold as day gave way to night.
Ivy had found the clock beneath a cloth when she and Mr. Quent had made their first inspection of the house, and she had been delighted to discover that, when wound with a heavy bra.s.s key, its gears sprang into motion just as of old, emitting their familiar, comforting hum.
Now Ivy frowned at the clock. ”That's peculiar.”
”Peculiar?” Lily said. ”It's mad is what it is. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole ceiling came cras.h.i.+ng down.” She leaned over the table and slurped at her teacup, which she had made too full with a large dollop of cream.
Rose looked upward and bit her lip. ”I think it's lower than it was a minute ago.”
That wasn't what Ivy had meant. She had set the clock according to the almanac just yesterday. Now, while the church bells had struck the start of the fourth and final farthing of the lumenal, a bit more than a quarter of the gold circle still showed on the right-hand face of the clock.
She went to the hutch to get the almanac. According to the timetables, the last farthing today was to begin just after the ninth hour. Indeed, in the center face of the clock, the second hand had moved a little past the hour. So why had it not struck last farthing? Ivy sighed and shut the almanac. Perhaps the old clock was not running as well as she had thought.
She returned to her seat with the intention of looking over the copy of The Comet The Comet that Mrs. Seenly had brought with the tea, to see what news there was that day of the Wyrdwood. However, when she reached for the broadsheet, she found it was no longer on the tray. that Mrs. Seenly had brought with the tea, to see what news there was that day of the Wyrdwood. However, when she reached for the broadsheet, she found it was no longer on the tray.
”Listen to this!” Lily exclaimed.
Ivy looked up and saw that Lily held the newspaper before her.
”It says there is a new theater just opened on Durrow Street,” Lily went on, ”and that the viscountess Lady Crayford is known to have seen a performance by its troupe of illusionists. So do you see, Ivy? There's no reason we can't attend a play ourselves. It can't be wrong to go to a play if have seen a performance by its troupe of illusionists. So do you see, Ivy? There's no reason we can't attend a play ourselves. It can't be wrong to go to a play if she she went. Besides, we live on Durrow Street. We're hardly any distance at all from the theaters.” went. Besides, we live on Durrow Street. We're hardly any distance at all from the theaters.”
Ivy did her best to sound sensible rather than scolding. ”We live on the west end of Durrow Street, not the east, and so we are no closer to the theaters than we were in Gauldren's Heights. Here, let me see.”
She took the broadsheet from Lily and perused the article.
”I thought as much,” Ivy said. ”If you had bothered to read farther, you would have learned that the viscountess did not in fact go to a play on Durrow Street. Rather, Lord Crayford brought in a single illusionist from the new theater to provide an entertainment at her birthday party. Even so, the article says that a great number in the Hall of Magnates consider it scandalous that one of their peers allowed illusionists to enter his house, and a resolution of censure is being considered.”
Lily slouched back in her chair. ”I don't believe that's what the article says at all,” she said, though she did not take the newspaper back. ”And even if it is, who cares what a lot of dreary old men in a.s.sembly think? Everyone says the viscountess is beautiful and thirty years younger than her husband. They say that he gives her anything at all that she wants, and that she's dreadfully fas.h.i.+onable. If she does a thing, you can be sure every magnate's daughter will be doing the same in short time.”
”Well, as your father is merely a gentleman and not a magnate, I am certain you will not be following suit.”
Lily crossed her arms and sank deeper into her chair. ”How can I when Mr. Rafferdy never brings Mr. Garritt to call? I can't very well go see a play all by myself. That That would hardly be fas.h.i.+onable. And I suppose now that you've gone and married Mr. Quent, Mr. Rafferdy will never come again. You've quite ruined everything, you know.” would hardly be fas.h.i.+onable. And I suppose now that you've gone and married Mr. Quent, Mr. Rafferdy will never come again. You've quite ruined everything, you know.”
Ivy set down the broadsheet. ”Is that what you believe, too, Rose? Have I made a ruin of everything by becoming Mrs. Quent?”
”No!” Rose exclaimed. ”It's just the opposite. Everything is wonderful now. Isn't it, Lily? You must say it is. You must!”
After a great deal more cajoling on Rose's part, Lily was at last made to admit that their situation was indeed improved compared to what it had been dwelling on Whitward Street with their cousin Mr. Wyble, and that she did in fact adore Mr. Quent, even if he was decrepit and needed a new coat.
”Do you think Mr. Rafferdy will come to call soon?” Rose asked.
”We can hope so,” Ivy said, ”but we must not expect it. His work occupies him greatly.”
Ivy had received a note from Mr. Rafferdy last month, apologizing for not presenting himself at Durrow Street more often. His father's health had worsened, he had written, and Mr. Rafferdy had been kept busy attending to Lord Rafferdy's business in the city.
Ivy had not heard again from Mr. Rafferdy since receiving that note, though she had gotten some news about him on the occasions she had been invited to Lady Marsdel's house. She also received reports from Mrs. Baydon, whom she saw with some frequency. Just that morning they had walked together along the Promenade.