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THE AUTOGRAPH BOOK left Elizabeth alone for the remainder of the evening, and into the next morning. She dressed, with Sally’s help, and headed downstairs to breakfast. Aunt Cass was already up, sipping at her tea and reading an old newspaper.
“There you are, my dear! Did you sleep well?”
“I confess I tossed and turned. I kept dreaming of Uncle Edward.” Elizabeth smiled. “They were good dreams, at least.”
“That is a blessing, then. Come sit. I am attempting to catch up on my current events. I am woefully behind. Does your father still get The Times from Mary?”
Elizabeth glanced at the gathering pile of newspapers and nodded. “Mr. Fitzharding is a Tory, so he sends over his copies once or twice a month to us. Mr. Thorne subscribes to the Morning Chronicle and The Morning Post, so he sends those to my father, too.”
“Whig and Tory influences at the rectory. My, how progressive.”
Elizabeth picked up her plate and inspected the food on offer. “As we’ve discovered, Isabella is a voracious newspaper reader. Once that got out in the village, everyone sends their papers to the rectory. I am permitted to read the papers, of course, as Isabella has insisted to my father that well-read women can attract husbands.”
“I’m surprised at the new Mrs. Knight for saying that.”
“As I am, being that I do not remember ever seeing a book in that girl’s hand her entire life!” Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh dear, I should not have said that.”
“I have said much worse! Now, do try the rolls. It is exceptional.”
Elizabeth filled her plate with two hot rolls, and Mrs. Cook’s special plum cake, the recipe straight from that lady’s Scottish relations. She dropped a boiled egg in its cup. She also poured herself a cup of chocolate and remarked on the excellence of the morning meal. Her aunt proudly stated that Mrs. Cook had been determined to give Miss Knight an excellent welcome to London, and that she planned to prepare all of her favourites.
“Now, Cook says there was no decent meat at the market. However, she did procure some smoked kippers for tomorrow. Will that be agreeable?”
“Very much so!” Elizabeth said between bites of her breakfast. The hot rolls were delicious, but she resisted taking a third. “We rarely get fish of any kind at Bryden this time of the year.”
“She expected as much. Excellent. She’ll be happy to hear that.” Aunt Cass motioned to Sally, who had entered the room to see if the ladies wanted for anything. “Bring me the parcel from this morning. Thank you, Sally. Now, Eliza, I went to the shops this morning while you were still asleep. I found an excellent lavender muslin and I think that we can have that made up into a dress for you.”
“Aunt, I cannot think of that now,” Elizabeth said.
“Nonsense! I will not allow you to be in that dreary black for three months. Edward would have been horrified to know you planned to sit around moping.”
“It is not moping,” Elizabeth protested. “I am in mourning, as is only proper.”
“Be that as it may, I would like you to consider having Sally to make you up a dress. Now, if you prefer, Sally’s cousin is a seamstress and she can do the more fashionable styles. I prefer Sally’s simpler style myself, but perhaps you feel the need to catch the eye of a young man.”
“Please,” Elizabeth muttered. “Sally, will you have the time to assist with a dress? I do not wish to take you from your duties.”
Sally eyed the fabric. “It’s excellent quality, miss. If my mistress approves, I will ask Martha, my cousin, if she can assist with the dress. This should be made in something fashionable. If I may offer my opinion, ma’am, of course.”
“Whatever you think is best, Sally,” Aunt Cass said.”I have never been a great seamstress myself. Shirts for Edward and my dear husband was about all I could manage.”
“I shall pay your cousin,” Elizabeth insisted.
“None of that,” Aunt Cass said. To her servant, she said, “Arrange for Martha whenever she is free. Perhaps I should pick up some fabric myself. If she is to make the trip here to measure Eliza...”
“I can stay here, Aunt. You head back to the shops.”
“I cannot abandon you!”
“Nonsense. I wish to have six full trunks ready for Mr. Thorne to arrange for an auction, or whatever he sees fit, and his note to Maria last night said he plans to be here at one o’clock sharp.” Elizabeth glanced up at the old clock. “It’s half past ten now, so that does not leave me as much time as I’d like.”
“Then I shall stay,” Aunt Cass said.
“Most of what is left is sorting the books I had wished to take a second glance at. I think I will do that faster alone. And it will please me to know you are out, getting fresh air.”
“I live in London, dear,” Aunt Cass said deadpan. “There is no such thing as fresh air.”
They had a good chuckle at that, and Aunt Cass finally relented, but only after Elizabeth suggested that Aunt Cass search for a pair of warm gloves. Elizabeth’s were terribly worn; she had planned to use some of the book proceeds to purchase her own but giving Aunt Cass that task seemed to spur her forward. Within thirty minutes, her aunt had called for a chair and was out the door.
Ink and paper were procured for her, as was a small, portable writing desk from the drawing room. Elizabeth folded the paper into quarters and cut it into squares carefully. She then labeled them in a flowing, elegant hand:
Keep
Consider
Sell
Royal Occult Society
Despite their annoying visit, Elizabeth did feel there was some obligation in offering them the pick of the unique or special edition books, especially those from Mr. Leigh’s newly-inherited collection.
Armed with scissors, Elizabeth returned to her bedroom and faced her closet of books.
She placed the KEEP sign under a book on the top shelf. These would become the volumes she absolutely wanted to keep. The other shelves had books upon them, so she pushed them over as best as possible and adding the signs to the other three shelves. Then, she began to sort. First, with what was in the closet. Then, one trunk at a time.
Elizabeth was decisive and thorough with her pruning. Aunt Cass and Maria would have insisted Elizabeth keep most of these books, but she knew that the pence and shillings each book could bring her was to be weighed against its ownership. Some decisions were easy. She discovered she possessed three different versions of First Forays into the Study of Occult Flora, publication dates 1802, 1803, and 1805. She decided to keep the 1805 version, as it contained erratum in the front. The 1802 went on the Sell shelf for first edition collectors, and 1803 went to the Royal Occult Society shelf.
She struggled with the choice between Magical Heirs (1799) and The True Heirs of Magic (1799) as they seemed to have been published at the same time to spite the other’s author. While they seemed interesting, she could not justify their existence on her shelf. Both went to the sell shelf.
She was uncertain which of the botanical books to choose, and was wondering aloud when a feminine voice said, “The 1742 volume by Anonymous is the best choice.”
Elizabeth jumped from fright. When she was capable of speech, she said, “Is that the book?”
“You failed to lock my lid, thereby not protecting me from the damp.”
“I apologize, madam. I shall do so at once.”
The book sighed dramatically. “Since you have already kept me awake all of these hours by saying the incantation three times, you might as well enlist my assistance.”
“If it would not be too great of inconvenience.”
“I am dead, girl. How much more can I be inconvenienced? Now, what is your current system?”
Elizabeth pulled the book from the trunk. “First, what may I call you? Book seems unbearably rude .”
“You may call me Mrs. Egerton. Now, the system, if you please.”
Elizabeth explained her sorting system to Mrs. Egerton, who made interested sounds throughout. Finally, Elizabeth said, “I do not have room for many books. Maria—um, Mrs. Thorne—and Aunt Cass have offered me space, of course, but I wish to be practical above all things. I would rather ten excellent books that I will read for the rest of my life than a thousand that will collect dust.”
Mrs. Egerton sighed. “Why you don’t have a husband is beyond me. What a waste.”
Unsure of how to address that particular comment, Elizabeth ignored it completely. “I am unclear which of the general knowledge books are the best option for me. I would prefer to do as my uncle bid and study the occult, of course, but I confess I am overwhelmed by choice at the moment. I do not possess the knowledge to know which of these books will best teach me. And now, with my cousin’s books offered into the mix...”
“That is because Mr. Leigh is, as ever, a complete waste of a lady’s time.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to argue with the book, but then shut it. She was not going to lower herself to argue with a book and its disembodied voice. Even if it spoke a rather improper truth.
Mrs. Egerton’s sigh was tinged with annoyance. “Shall we get started then, or do you plan to spend the day dawdling?”
With that, Elizabeth got to work, with the book’s ghostly assistance. Mrs. Egerton had several choice and insulting words for the Royal Occult Society, but Elizabeth would not be dissuaded from her shelf offering them first pick. Mrs. Egerton begrudgingly suggested the best books to go there; most were tailored to highly specialized interests within the occult.
To Elizabeth’s surprise, and soon amusement, Mrs. Sarah Egerton had very strong feelings about any religious texts:
Decorum and Grace for Young Ladies From Occult Families (1766): “Throw it upon the fire.”
A Gentleman’s Guide to Attracting a Wife (1792): “The only thing that will lead young ladies to is the company of more ladies.
A Lady’s Guide to Attracting a Husband (1723): “My parents made my sister read that one. She went to Scotland a month later.
Mrs. Egerton approved of Elizabeth’s choices for her personal collection, and informed her that all of the books written by Mr. Arthur Sherry were, in fact, written by women.
“Indeed?”
“It is true. Mr. Arthur Sherry was the name my own occult group decided upon. We all work our own books, either in tandem or independently, and then we hired a gentleman to be Mr. Arthur Sherry. This gentleman then hired a lawyer and all of the funds went into an account. From there, the money was distributed between us, after a generous fee was paid to the gentlemen, of course. I wonder if anyone ever found my box.”
“Box?”
“I buried it in a wall. It contains coins, jewelry, and a few pieces of silver. There are some bank notes, but as I’ve never trusted paper notes, as a general rule, I converted nearly everything I owned into coinage. Gold is eternal.”
“It must have been a rather large box you left behind.” When no reply came, Elizabeth asked, “Mrs. Egerton?”
“I was considering if the new occupants of my old house have discovered the box yet,” Mrs. Egerton said. “Your uncle sent his lawyer to sniff about and investigate. Apparently, there is a large family living in the home. I suspect they could use a little money. Alas.”
“Should I write to them?” Elizabeth asked.
Mrs. Egerton laughed. “My dear. If they are too stupid to find a heavy trunk filled with gold and silver themselves, then they have no business spending the money inside it. No, I left it so that fate could do with my disposable life’s worth as it pleased.”
“That sounds very sad,” Elizabeth said. “Did you not have anyone to leave the money to? A favourite niece?”
“Oh, for those things, such as my dowry and my jewels, those were all disposed of properly. However, a lady who earns royalties must have somewhere to hide that cash from a horrid husband.”
“Did you have a horrid husband?”
Mrs. Egerton made a thoughtful sound. “Thankfully, he dropped dead before he became truly horrid.”
“Mrs. Egerton! That is your husband you speak of.”
That brought out a laugh from Mrs. Egerton that bordered upon a cackle. “Now, child, I need you to remember to read the incantation out every morning, but only if you wish to summon me for a day. Because you read it out several times, I am here for a bit.”
“That seems simple enough,” Elizabeth said. She pondered the book in her hands. “Will Reflections on the Occult in England (1801) be of any use for me?”
“There is nothing of note in that one. You are better off with Hendricks’ book from 1793 on the topic. To address your comment, no, the incantation to make my voice appear is not simple. Because, that incantation will require more permanent spell craft to keep me active, and you have enough worries at present, I think. Your uncle worked diligently to fill the book with, how shall I explain it? It is like he placed magical firewood within my pages of my book. As long as the fire remains low, the fire will last a long time. However, if the fire is stoked raging hot, then the wood will be gone overnight and then you are left with nothing.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth said, not hiding the disappointment in her voice. “I am not certain I am ready for magical pursuits.”
“I concur, that is why I have not assisted you in advancing my summoning.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth said. Again, more disappointment.
“Well, girl? You brought me back for another day, so let us finish the task at hand. No point wasting a day of spell craft.”
Elizabeth acquiesced, and went back to her book organization. Once the closet was organized, she brought Mrs. Egerton’s autograph book to the dining room with her. Together, they sorted through the books that were placed on the sideboard for her personal opinion. Sally fetched ink and paper and Elizabeth made the same signs again for four wooden crates. She filled them completely, and Andrews, the footman, and Tom, the household boy and runner, brought the “to keep” books upstairs to her closet, unpacking them on the appropriate shelf. Overall, it took two hours for the books to be sorted, but Elizabeth was left with several crates of potential income, which greatly pleased her.
The room was still overflowing with books, but at least now there was some order. Elizabeth’s goal was to have the drawing room books from the previous day cleared completely. Then, the dining room’s books sorted. That included the books upon the chairs, and underneath the table. She knew, of course, that as soon as it was properly assorted, more books from other parts of the house would eventually join these and the table would be is disarray. However, for now, there was progress.
“Well, Mrs. Egerton? I believe we deserve a cup of tea before visitors descend upon us.”
A disgusted sound. “Doesn’t anyone respect mourning customs anymore?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “This is an age of excess, Mrs. Egerton.”