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FIRSTLY, MRS. RUNDLE reported back that she was grievously concerned about the situation of the two women living in West Alley Buildings. Mrs. Rundle took it upon herself to call for the Thorne’s London physician to consult, as well as called back the apothecary to speak with them. All three agreed that the best course of action was to move the women from West Alley Buildings as soon as possible. However, Miss Susan’s strength needed to rally a bit more before such an attempt should be made. As well, it would be best to wait for the rain to cease, for the damp air could be dangerous in her frail condition.
Her interviews with all concerned led her to conclude that the invalid required wholesome foods that were easy on the digestion. She presented her mistress with a menu for the week that would ensure the women would have the best possible hope of a full recovery.
“It is incumbent upon me, ma’am, Mrs. Spencer, to inform you that Mrs. Taylor has also taken ill. She is not nearly as ill as the niece and the physician believes there is no worry, but I am concerned nonetheless,” Mrs. Rundle said. “As I understand the situation, Mrs. Taylor is about seventy. I believe caution must be exercised.”
Elizabeth listened, worried as Mrs. Rundle related the details of the squalor of the housing situation. A tiny room, only big enough for a dirty, lumpy mattress upon the floor. Two chairs and a small table were tucked into a corner. The other corner a pile of trunks, containing the few possessions of the women. No means to cook or warm the room. No water pump within convenient walking distance for Mrs. Taylor. Noxious air. It is truly deplorable.
“Would it not be worth the risk to move them?” Elizabeth asked. “I will assist with the cost. I have a moral obligation to use my good fortune to assist my uncle’s poor servant.”
Mrs. Rundle shook her head. “My dear Miss Knight, if I believed that the niece would survive a move, I would have informed my mistress immediately. However, in my opinion, she is too grave to move. The aunt can, and should, but refuses to leave the girl. I cannot blame her. For now, if I might be so bold as to offer my opinion...”
“Please, Mrs. Rundle,” Maria said. “We trust your judgement on this matter.”
“Then, we should work to get this girl’s strength up. They are eating only what ready-made foods Mrs. Taylor can procure cheaply when Mrs. Cook is unable to provide them with charity.”
“Cook, what should we do?” Elizabeth asked.
Mrs. Cook looked at her mistress, who nodded her consent. “Well, Miss Knight, I believe a daily meal of bread soaked in pot liquor. I can procure the salt beef. That will help the girl’s strength and be very easy on her digestion. Mr. Leigh swore by it, even toward his end.”
“I agree with Mrs. Cook,” Mrs. Rundle said. “With your permission, Mrs. Spencer and Mrs. Thorne, I believe I should undertake the meal, as Mrs. Cook has the added work of houseguests now.”
“I am not afraid of hard work,” Mrs. Cook insisted.
“Mrs. Rundle is right,” Aunt Cass said. “Mrs. Thorne?”
“Yes, of course. Mrs. Rundle, may I entrust this to you?”
“I would be happy to help these poor creatures. I would appreciate Mrs. Cook’s opinion on my menu of nutritious foods for the invalids, however, before I speak to our cook about it.”
“Of course, Mrs. Rundle. Let me see.”
Elizabeth read the list after Mrs. Cook, her aunt, and Maria were finished with it. A dish she’d frequently asked her own servants to make for the very poor in their village: rice, sugar, milk, and drippings baked together in a cooling bread oven. Boiled turnips, mashed with a little butter. Jam and bread. Bread soaked in pot liquor; the flavourful broth left over after boiling salt beef for hours.
“I would like to contribute,” Elizabeth said. “Sally? Would you fetch my reticule from my nightstand please?”
Sally curtsied, but everyone else’s objections stopped the young servant.
Finally, Aunt Cass said, “None of us expect you to assist in this, Elizabeth.”
“Indeed,” Maria said. “Henry and I can afford bread for these people.”
“I am a clergyman’s eldest daughter and I feel my obligation in this matter,” Elizabeth said. “Mrs. Rundle, how best can I assist?”
“Eliza...” Maria started.
“I will not be deterred. Mrs. Rundle, if you please.”
“Well, miss...since you asked...they are in need of wax candles. The rushlights are not helping Susan’s lungs, and the apothecary said it was poisoning the air without windows. Perhaps a few would assist them. Also, they are in need of cheese and beer. They can afford neither. I also recommend molasses for the young miss. That on some bread to keep her strength up.”
“What about butter?” Aunt Cass asked.
Mrs. Rundle shook her head. “It is too cold in their room to bother with making it spreadable, to be honest. Molasses or salt pork fat would be better.”
“We are quite low on salt pork, to be very honest with you,” Mrs. Cook said. “I’ve not been happy with what’s been at the market as of late. But, if it’s just for frying up to drain, the cheapest varieties should be fine.”
“Sally, would a shilling be enough? I don’t know London prices at all,” Elizabeth asked.
“Not for the candles, miss, but for the food it would easily cover it. Would you like your reticule?” Sally asked.
“Please.”
With the servant off to ger her money purse, Maria said, “Please have Jenkins pick up wax candles for them. Put it on our account.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mrs. Rundle said.
Elizabeth passed over two shillings for extra food items, and Mrs. Rundle promised to do the shopping herself, “to get the best prices.”
With a plan in hand, Henry decided to write several of his bookseller and book collector friends to come by and see what books could be had.
“If I might be so bold, I believe you ladies should move to a different part of the house, so that you do not have to deal with the bickering of commerce,” Henry said. “Also, two of you are in mourning. You should not have to endure your house being opened up like a shop.”
“Anything to get rid of these crates!” Aunt Cass exclaimed. “Come, Elizabeth. Mrs. Thorne? Will you assist in moving my niece?”
Henry bowed deeply, but could not hide his wicked smile. “If I have Miss Knight’s permission, I would be happy to carry her into the other drawing room.”
Maria gave her husband a disgusted look. “Henry, the only thing you can carry is your winnings after a night of cards.”
“You wound me!” Henry said. “Besides, I have given up the tables.”
“Since when?”
“Since I heard of Miss Knight’s assault. The tables are boring me, and I am more use here.” Henry quirked a smile at his wife. “Besides, aren’t you always wishing I was more helpful?”
Maria rolled her eyes. “Oh, Henry.”
Elizabeth turned her head away, so that they would not see her smile. For all of their bickering and arguing, they had been a love match first and always. He did not have to marry the woman of dubious family background. And she did not have to marry the last son of a titled gentlemen who had little to give his youngest. But they’d married, and they’d not regretted it. Society could learn from their example.
“I do not need to be carried. Gracious,” Elizabeth said. “All I wish for is a supportive arm so that I may walk upon my toes and avoid the cuts upon my heel.”
Henry Thorne thrust his arm out, bringing laughter from Maria. While he helped Elizabeth from the sofa, he asked, “Shall we send word to Mr. David Leigh? About his servants, I mean.”
“Please don’t,” Elizabeth said. “He will only be angry, and then...well...he might ask for the books back.”
“He wouldn’t dare!” Maria exclaimed.
“I don’t think it is a point that we should push,” Elizabeth said. “As inconvenient as this has been, I believe we are better positioned with the books than without. We can sell what is necessary, and then use the money to assist those my cousin harmed. But I cannot sit upon my good fortune by my uncle, knowing that his servants were tossed out with no support.”
“Are you certain?”
“I shall have that word with him,” Aunt Cass announced.
“Oh, aunt, please don’t.”
“Leave it to me, Eliza. Remember, that I know him better than any of you. I shall know when, where, and how to strike.”
“Very well,” Henry Thorne said. “So today, we shall continue sorting these books and engaging in exciting commerce?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, indeed.”
“Excellent. I should invite my family over to witness my utility,” Henry Thorne declared.
“They would be shocked, indeed,” Maria said deadpan.
That only made the other ladies and servants laugh harder. Even little Tom could be heard giggling in the other room.
*****
AFTER ANOTHER HOUR of sorting her uncle’s private books in Aunt Cass’ preferred upper drawing room, an overwhelmed Elizabeth announced, “I believe we should ask Mrs. Egerton, the book, for help.”
Aunt Cass was seated at a small table with a writing desk upon it, and was transcribing book titles and year of publication as Maria read them out to her. Then, Maria would either make an immediate decision about the book or place upon the sideboard for Elizabeth’s final decision. At least half the books went on the sideboard because Maria found half the books’ titles interesting.
The system was working well, except that Elizbeth was becoming overwhelmed by decisions. Each time she filled up the small trunk in the corner with possible books to keep, she would then vow to only keep half. Those would then go upstairs to her closet for later decisions. Only, Elizabeth couldn’t decide anymore. She wavered between selling all of the books and selling none.
“I’m rather terrified of a talking book, if I am to be completely candid,” Aunt Cass said.
“I understand, Aunt. However, one assumes a magical book would have thoughts on other magical books.” Elizabeth looked at Maria and said, “Would you fetch my sewing basket from the other room? I accidentally left her in there. With my reticule.”
Maria rolled her eyes at her friend, but dutifully disappeared. She returned a few moments later.
“Is that the book?” Aunt Cass asked. When Elizabeth nodded her head, she said, “I don’t know about this, Eliza. Are we at risk of being lead astray by this book?”
“While I’m not sure about all this occult business, I confess that the book probably does know more about occult books than the rest of us. However, I do not think we should let Henry know of this, for now.”
“No, I don’t think you should tell the man that I’m helping you,” Mrs. Egerton said in a caustic voice.
The three ladies started and let out a series of surprised sounds. Mrs. Egerton let out a dramatic sigh as footsteps pounded across the house and heading toward them. When Henry and James arrived, demanding to know what had happened, it was Maria to tell the lie.
“A mouse came out of nowhere and caught us all by surprise.”
Henry rolled his eyes. “For the love of God, Maria. It’s just a mouse.”
“As I said, Henry, it caught us by surprise.”
Henry muttered under his breath about foolish women, but his wife’s keen ears picked it up well enough.
“I heard that, Henry Thorne!”
An amused expression formed on his face, even as he tried to cover it up. “Mr. Osborne’s assistant will be here at any moment. I shan’t keep him waiting. If I see the elusive Miss Puss Puss, I shall direct her accordingly.”
After Henry Thorne exited the room, Mrs. Egerton let out another dramatic sigh that now seemed to Elizabeth to be the ghost’s preferred mode of expressing disappointment. “Ladies. I am not opposed to assisting my own sex with their tasks. I will, however, not work with a man until I deem him worth my time.”
“Mr. Thorne is an exceptional man,” Elizabeth said.
“I’ll judge that for myself.”
“Mrs. Egerton,” Aunt Cass said. “Might I be so bold as to ask if you were spying upon our conversation?”
“Only long enough to hear you distrust me,” the book said.
Aunt Cass flushed pink. “My dearest madam, pray forgive my manners. I...You must understand...”
“I understand that you are not acquainted with the occult and, therefore, can only say as your mind allows. I took no offence, dear woman.”
Aunt Cass let out a relieved sound. “Thank you, Mrs. Egerton. You are too good.”
“Being dead does help a lady avoid holding trivial grudges. At my time of existence, I prefer to save my dislike for those who truly deserve it. A minor slip of the tongue is hardly worth a generational grudge.”
“You are very wise, Mrs. Egerton,” Maria said. “I must confess I still struggle with that one.”
“I have the benefit of death for my part. So, you wish me to help sort through this entire mess of books. Very well.”
Mrs. Egerton’s help turned out to be very useful, as she knew the rarity of many of the volumes. For instance, she knew that the second edition of Conquering the Elements (1740) was significantly more valuable than the first edition, as the second printing contained a letter from the author’s wife detailing how he died failing to conquer the elements.
“I met the wife,” Mrs. Egerton said absently. “Outstanding woman.”
A rap came upon the door beyond, then the distant sound of men’s voices.
“Oh, that is Mr. Osborne himself!” Maria said. “I would know his deep voice anywhere.”
“Then I shall bring him these three rare books that Mrs. Egerton has pointed out. Perhaps I might make myself a guinea today!” Elizabeth said with a big grin.
“Try to be ladylike!” Aunt Cass called out, which made Elizabeth grin. Her aunt said that frequently when she was an excited girl.
Elizabeth carefully walked into the main drawing room. She took her time, as not to inflame her wounds. That meant Mr. Osborne and Henry Thorne were already in the drawing room heavily engaged in commerce upon her arrival.
She smiled up at the tall, black man who held two books in one hand, and their inventory list in the other. “Will you introduce me, Mr. Thorne?”
“Of course. Miss Knight, this is my good friend, and occasional gambling partner, Mr. Osborne.”
Miss Knight curtsied and said, “Mr. Osborne. I have brought three more books which I think are rare editions. And, I confess, that I wished to meet the man with whom I am conducting business with.”
“Thorne has spoken highly of you, Miss Knight. It is a great pleasure to meet you.” Mr. Osborne gave her a wide smile of excellent teeth. Though, the smile faded immediately as a solemn tone entered his voice. “And, of course, my condolences and sorrow at the loss of your uncle. He was an excellent man. He’s how I met your friend, Thorne, here.”
“Mr. Thorne! You never told me that.”
“I had forgotten it!”
“Well, Mr. Osborne, I do not wish to keep you from your trade. However, I did want to bring these three books out. Oh, and here is the most recent inventory list. We are still working on the list, but I made a line here, see? So that’s where the new items began being added.” She handed over the three volumes. “I have particular interest in this one, as the title is quite fetching. The Society of London Occultists, Complete with Forays into Summoning the Ghosts of The Greatest Men and even Women of England: a primer on incantations, spells, and summoning. It has the publication date as 1603 and I believe it is a first printing. I was hoping the age and the quality of the book itself would fetch me a higher price. Perhaps, if I could be so bold, a guinea?”
Mr. Osborne accepted the list, but refused to accept the books, staring openly at them. “Miss Knight? Where did you get that book?”
“It was my uncle’s.”
Mr. Osborne’s voice turned hushed, as though he were in the presence of a holy relic. “My dear lady, you cannot sell this.”
“Why ever not?” Elizabeth asked.
“What’s wrong with it?” Henry Thorne asked.
“There are only three copies left in England. Of this book.” Mr. Osborne shook his head. “I cannot, in good conscience, buy this from you. I cannot afford it.”
Elizabeth looked down at the rather plain, somewhat dusty book. “How much is it worth then? It has handwritten notes inside. Will that bring down the price?”
Mr. Osborne blinked. He motioned at James and requested his gloves. Once putting them back on, he reached out and asked, “May I touch it?”
A strange protective feeling hit Elizabeth, but she dutifully passed the book over. With his gloved hands, he carefully turned each page. When he stumbled upon the blank sections between chapters and volumes, his hands began to tremble.
“Osborne? Good God, man. Are you well?”
“Miss Knight.” Mr. Osborne licked his lips. “Do not allow anyone to know of this book’s existence that you do not trust with your own life.”
“Osborne!” Mr. Thorne said. “Miss Knight is...”
“Holding a book worth almost as much as your income, Thorne.”
Elizabeth whispered, “What?”
Mr. Osborne shakingly held the book out to her with both of his hands. Once she accepted it, he let out a breath. “Miss Knight. I consider myself a man of morals and principles, and I have the reputation of never having knowingly cheated a single person in my life. And, I confess to you now that, so that you understand what you possess, for a fleeting moment, even I considered lying to you by handing over a guinea for that book. If I may be so bold as to offer my advice to a young lady, squirrel that book away until you were certain you trusted the person responsible for that book’s auction.”
“Are you implying I should not tell my family?”
Mr. Osborne glanced at Mr. Thorne. “My friend here has told me a little of your family’s situation. This book represents the kind of money that men have killed over. If I were you, I would keep it until you absolutely required the money. Then, I would give it to Mrs. Spencer for her to hire an attorney and a bookseller to arrange a full and public auction. And then, for her to put the money aside into an inheritance for you so that only you can touch it. That is my professional opinion.”
Elizabeth struggled to breath. “This book was in my uncle’s private collection that he gave me. Would he have known it’s worth?”
Mr. Osborne smiled. “My dear, he absolutely would have known that he was giving you a book that was worth at least three thousand pounds. That is my conservative estimate.”
“I feel a little faint,” Elizabeth said. A giggle escaped her. She stumbled and sat upon the piano’s stool. “No one could afford a book worth that.”
“The Royal Occult Society once bought a collection of books worth eight thousand pounds. The American Society of Occultists have representatives living in London and across Europe for the hope of procuring one of these rare books.”
“Three thousand pounds,” Elizabeth whispered.
“Maria will be thrilled for you!” Mr. Thorne said.
“No, Thorne. No. Miss Knight, for your own protection, please, keep this a secret for as long as possible. If necessary, tell Mrs. Spencer and her alone.”
“I cannot keep a secret from Maria,” Mr. Thorne said. “She is my wife, Osborne.”
“Do you trust her with this?”
“Absolutely,” Mr. Thorne said, with a conviction that warmed Elizabeth’s heart. “I tease Maria and scold her far more than I know I should, but she is truly the best woman in England. I trust no one in England as much as that woman, and for all the worry and trouble I have given her, she would never think to do anything hurtful upon me in revenge. And, besides that, she would never harm Miss Knight.”
Elizabeth smile at her dearest friend’s husband and asked, “Mr. Thorne. Have you ever considered telling Maria any of that?”
“Goodness, no.” Henry laughed. “She might start liking me! We can’t have that!”
“Then, Miss Knight,” Mr. Osborne said. “My professional recommendation is that you tell only Mrs. Spencer when you can, knowing that Thorne here cannot keep secrets from his wife. And hide that book away. Guard it with your life.”
“I will, Mr. Osborne. And, thank you for your honestly. There are a great many men in this world who would have taken advantage of me and my circumstances.”
Mr. Osborne’s cheeks darkened. He looked down at the floor and laughed awkwardly. “Well. How I could look Thorne here in the eye again, knowing that I cheated a dear friend of his wife’s? Now, I suppose I still need to buy some less expensive books! Miss Knight? Are you well?”
“I am...yes. Yes, I am well. I believe I shall hide this book. Mr. Thorne? Would you be so good as to wait for me to tell Maria?”
“If you wish,” Mr. Thorne said. “You will tell her, though?”
“Yes. Just not yet. I need to consider a great many things.”
“That is probably wise,” Mr. Osborne said.