Chapter 14

ELIZABETH AND MISS Thorne sat down at the dining room table, while Maria and Aunt Cass puttered about. Miss Susan had woken up and insisted upon helping. Sally helped escort her downstairs, while Tom carried a blanket and a heavy shawl. Miss Susan was placed near the robust fire, then her shoulders wrapped in a shawl. A patchwork blanket was placed over her legs.

The ladies sat down to work, but Elizabeth’s mind raced out of control. Her heart would not stop pounding, and her hands shook. She struggled to read her notes aloud, and her eyes welled with tears twice. Despite all her personal command, she could not will her body to behave proper according to society and custom.

She should not have raised her voice at her brother. She would pay the price for that in the future, and no doubt it would be a very high sum indeed. Shame and guilt flooded her for having behaved in such a manner. Fury at her brother and his horrid remarks.

“I am sorry, ladies, but I must speak up,” Miss Thorne said after twenty minutes of Elizabeth struggling with the simplest of questions. “Miss Knight. You are in no condition to assist Mrs. Egerton if you are unable to even write your own name.”

Elizabeth rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. “I cannot just sit here and wait for Mrs. Egerton’s spell to worsen. I only have a short period of time, and...”

“Miss Elizabeth Knight,” Mrs. Egerton’s voice said clearly into the silence that fell between the women. “Your friend is correct. You are of no use to anyone in this state. I suggest Miss Susan and Miss Thorne work together with me on the basics, while you, your aunt, and Mrs. Thorne continue the work of sorting and inventorying books for Mr. Thorne to foist upon the rich men of London.”

“I agree with Mrs. Egerton, Miss Knight,” Miss Susan said. Her voice was stronger now that she’d had hot coffee with some bread and butter. “Miss Thorne and I can sit over here, and we’ll bring Mrs. Egerton’s book closer so that we can all speak quietly. Then, you can continue to work on the books. We are still missing several volumes that we require to do all of the necessary spellwork, and Mrs. Egerton is positive those books are somewhere in your collection. Perhaps the footman could bring in one of the trunks from your special collection here? So that you can remain with us.”

Elizabeth relented, but only because Miss Susan was in such a delicate place with her illness that she did not want to cause the young woman any distress. The footmen carried down one of the trunks from the upper drawing room as instructed, and Elizabeth began going through it.

Mrs. Egerton chattered on about the importance of focus and clarity of thought. Personal distractions could taint an incantation, even one that was previously created and deemed successful. There was an art to it, she explained. The occult was an exchange, just as at a shop. The occultist had to offer up something useful and then ghosts might decide to return a form of magic back upon the occultist in payment.

“What is most important is that there is not one spell, not one incantation. There is no such thing. A dozen different ones can be used to bring me back, for instance. What is important is the intent behind it.”

Mrs. Egerton made an annoyed sound. “That was only because I feared the men of this age would be too stupid to figure out how to summon me and I’d be stuck in that book for a thousand years until women finally rose up and conquered them.”

“Goodness,” Aunt Cass said. “I do not know if I wish the present order of things be overturned in a revolution.”

“Consider, Aunt. Roving bands of ladies, seducing the innocent young gentlemen and leaving them abandoned in their homes without reputation or a penny to their names.”

“Hush. Your father would never speak to me again if he knew I let you speak such nonsense.”

That made Elizabeth smile. When she considered what a roving band of ladies would look like, who behaved like men in a society with no consequences, she actually laughed at the shocking display that formed in her mind.

“Elizabeth Knight,” Aunt Cass said in a very stern voice. “Stop thinking about whatever debauchery is in your head. It is unfit for a young lady to consider such things.”

“Yes, indeed. Unless, of course, she wishes to use that knowledge to cast an incantation,” Mrs. Egerton said.

“Mrs. Egerton!” It was Maria this time. “You will corrupt these young women.”

There was silence. They turned to the book and waited for the sarcastic retort. Nothing came.

Elizabeth shook her head, unsure of what had happened. A sinking feeling settled into her belly. Perhaps they had finally used up the last of the ghost’s stored magic. Elizabeth re-read the summoning spell, but nothing happened.

THREE DAYS HAD PASSED since Mrs. Egerton’s ghost disappeared. Aunt Cass wrote to Mrs. Cecil Thorne and introduced herself, asking if Miss Thorne could be spared.

Madam, I know this request contravenes propriety and the rules of society. Still, I hope with all my heart that you will grant my request. Miss Thorne has been a treasure to me in this difficult time. I have found my spirits in desperate need of youthful company, and it has been a relief to have Miss Thorne here. Might I trouble you to keep Miss Thorne for a full week, until the fifth of April? I find myself quite unable to live without the girl.

Mrs. Cecil Thorne’s reply came three hours later in the form of a carriage delivering Miss Thorne’s packed trunks.

The ladies had managed to sort through all of Elizabeth’s original magical inheritance. Once again, Mr. Henry Thorne was tasked with finding buyers. Elizabeth’s bedroom closet was stuffed full of the books she wished to keep. Miss Thorne had gone through them, and then Miss Susan, and they both agreed that what was left should be kept. Elizabeth wished to dispose of another half again, but Aunt Cass was prevailed upon to step in, and Elizabeth relented.

While Henry Thorne was out harassing the local booksellers again, Elizabeth sat at the head of Aunt Cass’ dining room table. Before her was Mrs. Egerton’s autograph book, along with her own occult journal, and several reference books. There were crockery pots of rose petals, cocoa, thyme, rosemary, a silver bowl filled with water, a piece of red ribbon, and a drawing of Mrs. Egerton.

About the table were the other members of the small group. Aunt Cass was there, serving as the matronly chaperone. She had taken to the role rather quickly and jokingly announced she might stay in black attire to match the part.

Maria was there, in case anyone needed French translated. She was dressed smartly in a fashionable dress of light blue, along with a delightful cap and neck wrap.

Miss Susan was seted nearest the fire. Several botany books were laid out in front of her, along with her own occult journals purchased for her from Elizabeth’s own money. Sally had organized the purchase, and had returned with several writing journals of various sizes. She’d haggled the prices down to eight shillings and sixpence and happily returned the correct change to Elizabeth. She spared Elizabeth the condescending remarks about how she was pitiful at haggling when carrying ready cash; those comments were left to Miss Thorne, who despaired of Elizabeth being near robbed by posted shop prices.

Miss Susan wore a simple gown that did not fit her properly, with a print that had been faded beyond recognition. The condition was made starker by the shawl she borrowed from Aunt Cass, with its intact lace, bright pattern, and the lack of holes. However, Miss Susan wasn’t as pale as she’d been, and was strong enough to sit at the table for hours at a time now, provided her back was to the fire. She still struggled to eat a proper meal, but she was able to enjoy a small slice of cake or bun with cup of coffee. She preferred it to tea, so Mrs. Cook was constantly on her guard ready to have the drink available.

Miss Thorne was seated next to her in a striped yellow and brown dress. Her hair was pulled into a severe bun at the nape of her neck, and her spectacles kept falling down her nose. In front of her sat Uncle Edward’s Latin writings, plus a stack of several Italian and German books. She had two of her own journals in front of her. One was new. The other was half-filled and worn with age.

“Okay ladies. Shall we list the things we are uncertain about that could affect the summoning incantation? First, we do not know the amounts and measures. So those might have to be adjusted. We also do not know precisely the order of things, so we need to be methodical with how we approach that. And, finally, we do not know if there are any unknown elements that are interfering. Have I omitted anything?”

Miss Susan raised her hand slightly. “Miss Knight? I also wish to note that fresh and dried plants and herbs might have changeable effects. However, not all do, so that is another consideration.”

Elizabeth added the note to her journal. When she finished, she noted the other ladies were adding to theirs, including even Maria. Elizabeth gave her friend a knowing smile.

“My dear Eliza, as the only official married woman involved in this scheme, I must learn my role fully. After all, I wouldn’t want people to think that this was merely a way to catch a husband. With Mrs. Spencer’s keen eye and my position in society, I hope to add some legitimacy to this group if it called upon.”

“I doubt the Royal Occult Society cares about what a group of women are doing,” Miss Susan said.

“Then more’s the pity for them, for we shall do great things,” Maria said.

“I do not know about great things, Maria, but I would be happy for Mrs. Egerton’s sharp wit back in my life,” Elizabeth said. She flipped her journal page back. “So, the things we do know. We know that we cannot have a man in the room at any time during the summoning because Mrs. Egerton will not appear to a man. I do not know if that also includes servants. Has anyone ever witnesses Mrs. Egerton speak around male servants?”

Everyone shook their heads. Even Sally spoke up. “She’s never spoken with me in the room, miss.”

Elizabeth considered that. “Then, to be prudent, let us assume that no new members or even servants. Would you all agree?”

The other women nodded. Sally curtsied and asked Aunt Cass, “Would you like me to stay outside and guard the door, ma’am? I can ensure you’re not disturbed and can bring in the tea things or fetch anything else you need.”

“I think that is an excellent notion, Sally. Also, please ask Mrs. Taylor to summon the twins for the next week, if they are available. We will be relying upon your assistance to fetch items from the shops, and whatever small tasks we need. You will require someone to take over your daily duties.”

Aunt Cass considered. “Whatever their mother thinks is best. We have room for them in any case. I will summon you when we are ready for tea.”

“Very good, ma’am.” Sally left the room, careful not to swing open the door and allow the other servants to see inside.

“If I am remembering correctly, Mrs. Egerton said the autograph book was designed to provide all of the information on her summoning. However, she was unable to provide me with the specifics, as she said the entire purpose of the autograph book was that only those with sufficient magical ability could do the workings. Otherwise, someone might conjure up some ancient mystic and we would all end up cursed for having accidentally offended the ghost.” Elizabeth glanced over at Miss Thorne for confirmation of that.

Miss Thorne nodded. “I have been reading Mr. Leigh’s incantation and spell experiments. I believe I have found the spell that awoke Mrs. Egerton’s voice, even if at the time he felt his working had failed.”

Miss Thorne nodded. “If I understood you correctly, Miss Knight, you said that you had read Mrs. Egerton’s incantation, written by your uncle, and that she sighed several times in annoyance before speaking to you.”

“So, making the assumption that Mrs. Egerton might have done the same to your uncle, I went back through his journals to find out the moment he wrote about hearing a sigh.” She opened the journal to the page with a pink ribbon marker. At Elizabeth’s smirk, she said, “I might have stolen the ribbon from my sister-in-law.”

“Next time,” Elizabeth said, “please ask one of us for assistance. I do not wish you to get into trouble at home.”

“I fear they would need to notice me for me to get into trouble, as you say,” Miss Thorne said with no trace of bitterness.

That astounded Elizabeth, and she admired Miss Thorne all the more for her fortitude with her situation. Still, if there was a small way that she could help ease Miss Thorne’s life, she felt she would do it. Unmarried women had to stay together, after all.

“There is one incantation that your uncle did again and again, and each time, it caused a sigh. I believe he had successfully summoned her for years and she had merely refused to appear, but was listening to him.”

“That would make sense,” Elizabeth said. “She said that she appeared to him when it was obvious, to her, that he was dying. Did he change the incantation in any form, or was it the same one?”

“He adjusted it several times. In actuality, he discussed the very things at this table that we have discussed. Therefore, I believe that the best course of action is to follow Mr. Leigh’s path.”

“We will no doubt fail,” Miss Susan said, “and yet, if I might be so bold as to offer my opinion, I agree with Miss Thorne. This appears to be a proper course of action.”

Elizabeth made notes in her journal. She looked up when silence filled the room. “Why is everyone looking at me?”

Miss Thorne looked at the other ladies before saying, “Miss Knight. You are the head of our group. We await your blessing to continue.”

“Miss Knight,” Miss Thorne said in a rather stern, confident voice. “Might I speak freely to you, as a new acquaintance and, may I dare hope, a friend?”

“There comes a point in every woman’s life where she must accept if she is indeed the smartest person in the room or not. I have accepted that I am, present company excluded, of course, one of the most intelligent people in any room. And since that will never be acknowledged by the world, I refuse to hide my candle under a bushel, to use the holy words of the bible.”

Elizabeth stared at the ladies. She did not know what to say. She had been taught from a very young age, that she was just a girl. Then a young lady. Then someone to be dismissed and complained about. Soon, she knew she would become the ridicule of the world: the old maid with a cat. A life of obscurity.

She looked down at her papers hoping to hide the fact that a lump unexpectantly formed in her throat. She did not know how to trust herself. And yet, here was Miss Thorne, who was far brasher than Elizabeth was accustomed to in an unmarried lady, who was abused and tormented by her family, who refused to hide her own talents from the world that she’d been born with.

And Miss Susan, who was discarded as soon as she was the least ill by powerful men who could have afforded to care for her, but who would rather see her living in squalor than lower themselves to help a poor governess.

“It is clear, to me, Miss Thorne—Alice— what your talents are. And you, Miss Susan. And indeed, Maria, yours is to light up a room and support. And you, Aunt Cass, to stand up for women who need that help.” Elizabeth’s voice grew feeble. “I have no such talents. I am nobody. That is why I need Mrs. Egerton, especially now that I am going back home soon.”

“No,” Aunt Cass said. All heads turned to look at her. “Ladies, I believe you need Mrs. Egerton only as a teacher. However, she desires pupils willing to trust their own abilities. Though I know little of her, I have known plenty of women with her personality. She will not tolerate wishy-washy, silly girls. And since none of you are, then I recommend you not act it when inside these walls.”

“Very wise words, Mrs. Spencer,” Maria said. “It is easy to forget that we must let our guard down on occasion.”

“If acquaintance with the Royal Occult Society had taught me anything, self-doubt does not become a member of the Ladies Occult Society,” Aunt Cass said sternly, though her eyes glittered with amusement.

“Well, are you not ladies, and is this not an occult society?” Aunt Cass asked.

“I had not considered,” Elizabeth said. She thought on it some more as she looked about the room. She smiled. “I rather like the sound of that. The Ladies Occult Society.”

AFTER A FULL DAY OF attempts, the ladies called it an end when Mrs. Cook announced dinner would arrive in an hour. They had not managed to summon Mrs. Egerton. However, they had made progress in narrowing down which of the incantations it was that Edward Leigh used. Unfortunately, he’d used six different slight variations on the same one that day, and they had run out of supplies.

“Sally, can you read and write?” When she bobbed her head and said she also could do accounts, Elizabeth said, “Good! Ladies, let’s make a list of supplies that we need. Sally, some of them you might be able to find from an occult supply store first thing in the morning. Others, from the market.”

Alice pressed her lips together. “The occult store on Bond Street will be significantly more expensive.”

“I don’t know. I can ask my brother for more money, I suppose,” Alice said, in a tone that said her brother was not likely to give her a farthing of her own money.

Elizabeth said, “Susan, if we are to use each other’s Christian names, then surely you do not need to raise your hand.”

“Sorry, miss. Elizabeth. A teacher in my position becomes accustom to certain behaviours. If possible, I believe we should only purchase items from the occult store, for now. I have very limited experience with purification and cleansing spells, and we are very little time. If we succeed at keeping Mrs. Egerton’s magic renewing, then it would be proper to start practicing simple spells then. For now, we must focus on her permanent incantation and hers alone.”

“Very sensible,” Elizabeth said. She looked down at her notes. “We have not tried the third incantation yet because we needed rosemary blessed by a priest. Does anyone here know a priest that supports the occult?”

Susan nodded. “I will add the directions to your list. Sally will be able to find it, but I do warn you. He will charge ten shillings for the first item that needs blessing, and five for each one after”

Elizabeth failed not to mentally calculate how much that would cost. “Lavender oil, purified rose water, cocoa and a spoonful of sugar. Why do we need chocolate again?”

Alice didn’t look up from her book. She placed the ribbon and then flipped several pages. “Mr. Leigh says here that Mrs. Sarah Egerton was...hmm...ah! Mrs. Egerton was known to love a mug of chocolate upon arriving in the dining room each morning during her short marriage. And...” Alice reached for the Instructions in Autograph Ghost Creation, an Introduction, “Yes! It says here that the ghosts need to be tethered with items they loved in life.”

Alice flipped back to the journal. She skimmed several pages before shaking her head. “No, he does not mention it that I can see, but I can continue to read. It has been several months since I have read anything of this nature in Latin and I fear my skills lack their usual sharpness. Mrs. Thorne? Would you be so good as to check the inventory list? I am looking for a very particular dictionary. I believe it is called, A Primer on Latin to English Incantations for the Gentleman Occultist.”

Maria handed Aunt Cass two pages of the inventory list while they both went through it. Elizabeth did not think it sounded familiar. However, they still were not through all of the sorting yet. A few minutes later, Aunt Cass declared it was not on her list. Ditto Maria.

“I shall continue to work to the best of my abilities, Elizabeth, you can be assured of that. Oh, dear, though. How I wish I could get my hands on that book! It is very vexing because I have gone to three different booksellers during my visit. Before I met you, in fact, my dear friend. And do you think that they would sell it to me? No, indeed! The occult shop actually refused. Refused my ready money! I had placed a guinea upon the counter to pass over to his possession and he refused to accept it.”

“He thought I was purchasing it for my brother. Once he realized it was for me, he put the book back on the shelf and refused to let me have it. He said he could not, in good conscience, allow a young lady of breeding to see a book about Latin. I have not been back since.”

Aunt Cass shook her head. “I swear, the shopkeepers of London must be very rich indeed if they can turn down ready money upon the counter.”

“That was exactly what I said, Mrs. Spencer, you can be assured! The gall of the man.”

Elizabeth considered that information for a moment. “Then ladies, I propose that we only frequent Mr. Osborne’s shop. He sells new and used books, and he also owns the very small print publishing business next door. He has been an absolute gentleman throughout this entire process, and indeed I have direct knowledge that he is very honest and honourable and will not cheat a lady for his own profit, no matter the temptation.”

Elizabeth stopped speaking, realizing very quickly that she had nearly spilled the milk about her rare book. She did not wish to lie to the ladies; that would have been very wicked. So, instead, she engaged in a little misdirection.

“During this entire process, Mr. Osborne has offered very reasonable prices for all of the used books. There were some that Mrs. Egerton had mentioned were more prized editions. And, to his own reputation, Mr. Osborne would immediately point those out. Some were not appropriate for his own store, and yet he told me the price they should fetch somewhere else. He does not trade in the rare without a ready buyer, you see, but he wished me to know his estimated price of those books. And then Mr. Thorne was able to take that knowledge to ensure I was compensated appropriately.”

“My brother never had a bad word to utter about Mr. Osborne,” Aunt Cass supplied.

Alice nodded, seemingly pleased with this news. “Then, I agree, Elizabeth. We should only do business with this Mr. Osborne. May I have the directions to his shop? I shall pay him a visit tomorrow to set up an account.”

A knock came to the door as Elizabeth was providing Alice the directions to Mr. Osborne’s on Charles’ Street. James introduced Mr. Henry Thorne, who practically ran into the dining room, red-faced and dewy.

“My apologizes, ladies, for bursting in upon you. Mrs. Spencer. Miss Knight. You need to know that Mr. Baxter is returning with an attorney. Mr. Grant is on his way...ah! That must be him. James, would you please let him in. Quickly, now, before someone sees him on the street. Again, I apologize, Mrs. Spencer, for being so bold.”

Aunt Cass was already getting to her feet and handed the book inventory list to Maria. “Under the circumstances, Mr. Thorne, I understand. Elizabeth, come with me. Ladies, please stay here for now.”

Henry Thorne shook his head at his wife. “No, dear. They are here to attempt to threaten Miss Knight with legal action. Grant! Thank God you are here.”

Mr. Grant was as red-faced as Mr. Thorne. He was puffing and huffing, and Elizabeth feared the portly man might drop of an apoplexy. “I came from Sir Gregory’s as soon as I got your message. Am I too late?”

“Now, if I understand from your valet, they are going to attempt to trick Miss Knight? Good, good. Let them think they have won.” Another knock at the door. “Ah, good. That is Mr. Knight.”

Mr. Grant shook his head. “No, your brother. He was at Sir Gregory’s as well. He went to Oxford with Sir Gregory’s son. Ended up there for dinner.”

“Oh, do not worry, Miss Knight. He has well been reined in,” Mr. Grant said. To the foyer, he called out, “We’ll be right out, my boy.”

Elizabeth and Aunt Cass shared skeptical glances, but dutifully followed the men to the foyer. A rather sullen Charles stood there, head low. He did manage to say, “Good day, Mrs. Spencer. Elizabeth.”

Mr. Grant motioned at Charles and said, “Now, young Mr. Knight here is our proof. He can say, quite truthfully without any subterfuge, that the elder Mr. Knight did not agree to sell anything of Miss Knight’s property to the Royal Occult Society. Isn’t that correct, Mr. Knight?”

“Yes, Thorne.” Charles glanced at his sister. “My father did not agree to sell the books. At first, he said aloud that maybe it would help Elizabeth not have to worry about doing it herself. Then, Isabella reminded him that the books were Elizabeth’s and that her permission was necessary. He agreed, of course, and then said he would write to her, or perhaps wait until she returned home, to discuss the matter. At no point did I hear my father say he would force Elizabeth to sell the books.”

“Good. Not that he could legally, as some were an inheritance and others were a gift from Mrs. Spencer. Oh, Mrs. Spencer, before I forget,” Mr. Grant said. He handed her a rather large, though slender, leather book. “Please sign the bottom.”

“What is this?” She asked as she opened it. She stared at the document inside.

“It appears Mr. Grant shall be getting a bonus beyond his standard fee,” Aunt Cass said. “One moment, please. I shall sign this directly.”

Elizabeth watched as her aunt, laughing to herself, walked into the drawing room. There, she knew was her own writing desk, as well as Aunt Cass’s. She turned back to Mr. Grant. “Sir, I must ask what is happening.”

“Indeed, Miss Knight. I apologize for going behind your back to deal with this, but there was so little time. I have drawn up a legal document between your cousin, Mr. David Leigh, and Mrs. Spencer. It is for the transfer of his occult library to Mrs. Spencer. For the sum of one guinea.”

“As soon as Mrs. Spencer wrote to me about Mr. David Leigh’s ill-planned scheme, I decided to take it upon myself to ensure that, at least that part of the book exchange, was protected. After all, Mrs. Spencer is a widow. No one can touch her.” Mr. Grant said. He raised his hands in the air. “And if Mrs. Spencer, who is childless, decides to ask her unmarried niece to spend a month in London assisting her with the dispensation of said library and wishes to invest upon her any sum of money she so wishes, that is Mrs. Spencer’s legal right.”

Aunt Cass returned with the book, still open as she was blowing upon the ink for it to dry. “Done, Mr. Grant.”

“Excellent, so now all we need is Mr. Knight here to speak when called up. Can you do that, sir?” Mr. Grant asked.

Elizabeth glanced between the men. “Charles? I do not wish you to do something you do not want. Or, if this is a falsehood, I do not deserve you to lie on my behalf.”

Elizabeth stared at her brother. “Charles? Are you in trouble? What is happening?”

“I was not completely truthful with you,” Charles said. His voice was rather subdued.

“My father said he’d written you a letter demanding you return home with me.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, I received said letter the day you arrived in London.”

“He had received some distressing news that he did not wish to tell you, so it had been Mary’s idea to come across as a demand. However, after he’d sent the letter and had some time to reflect, he regretted the letter.” Charles scowled. “I think Isabella had something to do with that.”

Charles was silent for a moment before answering. “Isabella is with child, and there is a worry she is gravely ill.”

Elizabeth stared at her brother in shock. The verification of the pregnancy was not a shock; the reported fainting and fatigue had tipped the ailment’s arrival. However, the knowledge that Isabella was gravely ill, and here she was sitting about London, sipping chocolate in the mornings, all the while her youngest sisters were left to deal with a dying woman.

Her brother glanced at Mr. Grant, who nodded. “All right. Mr. Baxter isn’t here yet, in any case. Isabella has known for about a month that she was with child, but your uncle died just as she realized that something was the matter. Eventually, she was unable to hide her situation and both the midwife and Mr. Clarke were called.”

Elizabeth nodded. Isabella was not remotely close enough to be brought to bed and have a living child. To call the midwife? Her stomach twisted and knotted from fear.

“Both the apothecary and the midwife agreed. Isabella is much too large for her time. It’s possible she has tumors. That’s what the midwife said. She’d seen it before. The apothecary said, if that is the case, then it is very likely the baby will not survive. And it might also take Isabella.”

The news struck Elizabeth hard. She blinked several times, failing to clear the fog from her thoughts. Eventually, a hand touched her arm and she was led to a chair. She glanced up to see James there. He gave her a small bow and went back to guarding the door.

Charles’s expression said she would not like the answer. “At first, our father felt it wasn’t the concern of an unmarried daughter. Mary agreed with him.”

“It did not matter what he wanted, however. The girls overheard the midwife and apothecary, so there was no keeping a secret for long. He instructed them not to tell you or give you a whiff of it until I could make it to London. But, by then, I was at Ashbrook, so we lost a couple of days with the back and forth.”

Charles shrugged. “I assume he wished to stay with his wife. Regardless, I was supposed to come to London and assist you with the book selling, so that you could return to Bryden.”

“That was not what he said in his letter,” Elizabeth said. She failed to hide all the bitterness. “I had the impression he did not like me being here.”

“I do believe he has rather forgotten all that and only wants you to come home.” Charles fiddled with his gloves, attempting to avoid meeting her gaze. Finally he looked up and said, “Isabella asked for you, and I think she wants the comfort of someone her age, with some experience.”

“Mary is at home with her.” Charles sighed. “Eliza, you know how Mary gets when she is on one of her ways. She and Isabella have had tension since the necklace business at Christmas, and all Mary did was work Isabella up. Then the Royal Society fellows showed up and that only served to wind Mary right up. She and Isabella got into another row about how you should just sell them the damn books and come home, and...Well, you can imagine how desperate things have become.”

“Oh no,” Elizabeth muttered, burying her face in her hands. Her stays made it difficult to maintain the position for any length of time, though, and she sat back up to endure the agony of her family. “So Mary is upset with me because I’m busy with my books. Isabella is upset with Mary. Our father is upset about his wife. Cassandra is attempting to help Mary and Isabella. And the girls are still giving Isabella a hard time, since they are too young to truly understand the gravity of the situation, no doubt under Mary’s advice.”

Elizabeth was shocked. She had no idea what her father or Isabella thought of her now. That Isabella was suffering and Elizabeth was still in town, as if nothing was the matter. What a cold-hearted daughter they must think she was now. While she did not care so much about Mary’s good opinion, she did not wish for her own sister to think her a monster.

“Why would you do this to me?” Elizabeth pushed herself up from her chair and took several steps back toward her brother, who flinched away from her. “Why did you not simply tell me?”

Charles’ shoulders slumped. “The Royal Occult Society offered me thirty pounds if I could convince you to hurry back to Bryden.”

“If you had told me about Isabella, of course I would have hurried! I would have left the books here and asked my dear new friends to help with the task in my absence. But that does not answer the question of why?”

“They...they want three books that are yours now, and a journal of your uncle’s. I don’t know, it’s all sounded like nonsense to me. But they said if you were scared into returning home, those would be the books you would carry back with you in your trunk.”

She could not argue with that. In fact, they would most likely be in her lap the entire journal. “And?”

He did not look up at her. “You would be set upon by highwaymen who would steal the books from you.”

She stared at him in horror. Her entire mind stopped thinking and all that it could do was repeat his words over and over, convinced that it had heard the words improperly. She stumbled back to the chair and collapsed into it.

Charles approached her to kneel and meet her eyes. “They assured me you would not have been injured in the slightest. All they care about are the books.”

She looked at her brother with such pain. She had never been so weary in all of her life. That her safety, and indeed her very life, had a price. That was so low...how it stabbed her through the heart.

She sniffled back tears. “No, it had to do with thirty pounds. That is all I am worth to you, apparently.”

Charles grabbed her hands, and she pulled away so forcefully that her chair nearly toppled. She stood abruptly, causing her brother to fall back onto the floor. She paced back and forth across the foyer, tears dripping off her chin. She rubbed at her face with the back of her hand.

“I have agreed to pay his debts—all of them—if he tells the truth in front of witnesses,” Henry Thorne said.

Even if she gave him all of the money in her desk, it would not cover his debts. And they were not even debts to shopkeepers that could be paid back over the course of several years. Debts of honour! Her father...

“Of course not. I thought this would help settle some of my accounts.” Charles said. Exasperated, he blurted, “Then, I would convince Father to sell your other books, then no one would have to know.”

She could not look at him. It was bad enough that she supposed it was the Royal Occult Society who had sent the little boy to break into their house. Even if caught, his age would likely have spared the noose and merely transported to Australia for a decade. Still, that was horrid enough. But a plan to set highwaymen upon her? What if the coachman shot at the highwaymen? What if a bullet missed and hit Maria or someone else? What if it hit her? What if they managed to stop the coach and she refused to hand over the books? Would they have murdered her?

“I was desperate, Elizabeth,” Charles said in a subdued tone. “I have no way to pay any of that money back, and you know our father’s opinion on gamesters.”

“You were willing to risk your own sister’s life for thirty pounds. How can I ever trust you again? With any of our lives, not just my own?” Elizabeth accepted Mr. Grant’s handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “You could have asked me for the money.”

“You don’t have that kind of money,” Charles said with a scoff. “If you did, father would only take it and then you’d still not be able to help me. I was trying to save myself.”

Elizabeth considered the bank notes and coins locked up in her desk. It harmlessly sat upon the dining room table upon a cloth as to not scratch the smooth, finished surface. At times, she had considered sharing that money with her family. Slowly dolling it out, declaring she has been careful in her expenditures. However, it was clear that no one in her family could know the true nature of her financial situation.

If Charles knew there was money locked in that desk, he would most likely break the lock. She would need to purchase a small box that could be hidden in the back of the drawer to hide her money. Surely there was a secrecy box at the furniture shop where she’d purchased the desk and her table.

And she had to consider the safe keeping of the most precious of the books: Mrs. Egerton and her ghostly companions, and the rare book.

It hurt her that she was standing here, in front of these men, and realizing that she could not trust the men in her own family.

She would need to also purchase a false bottom for her trunk, to hide her books.

“Say something, Elizabeth. Yell at me, if you must. Don’t just stand there, judging me.”

The contempt in Charles’ voice spurred her. For her entire life, she had been taught that the good fortune of one of them was the good fortune of all of them. She had abided by that principle. She had shared whatever little pittances of extras she had gained in her life. She had looked upon her fourteen-hundred-pound inheritance to help support herself and her sisters; it would ease her family’s burden of supporting her.

She decided that she would still stick with that original decision. She would openly use that money to support any and all of them however they deemed necessary.

She would share the income of her uncle’s books, save the one book. The London Occultist Book would remain hidden from the world. So long as she was under the thumb of a man, she would never sell the book. She would never tell them of the book. The next man who learned of the book from her own lips would either be a man employed to assist her with its sale, or he would the man she would one day marry. And, she vowed that she would only marry a man who she trusted with that kind of money. If such a man did not exist, then she would simply wait. And, if her death were to come upon her, then the book would go to her new female companions. Together, they could sell the book and improve their own fortunes.

She would write a will when she returned to Bryden and place it in her journal. Until then, she would have to live with the knowledge that she was richer than anyone thought. She would live a life of deception. She would sin every day and risk her eternal soul.

Tears trickled down her cheeks once more and she squeezed her eyes shut. She silently prayed to God that he would understand and show her mercy. She asked for forgiveness, knowing that she would not truly confess her sin before God if she refused to stop the sin itself. All she could do was hope that God understood the plight of a poor, oppressed unmarried woman who had to protect herself from her male relations. Jesus has a mother. Perhaps he would understand.

Charles sighed, which brought Elizabeth out of her prayers of remorse. “You don’t know what it’s like to be a poor man, Elizabeth. I’m the only son and I have nothing. All of my friends are wealthy and here I am unable to throw down even a handful of guineas on cards. I have to count every single farthing.”

It was just as well that the expected knock came upon the door at that moment. Elizabeth glanced toward the dining room entrance, where the dark shadows of her friends and her aunt stretched out across the foyer’s white tile floor. She didn’t care that they heard. Let everyone witness her family’s neglect.

Elizabeth stepped in front of the men and nodded at James to open the door. Mr. Baxter was there, of course, with two other men standing behind him. They were visibly shocked by the gathering waiting for them. The men bowed. Elizabeth did not curtsy nor offer any indictor that she acknowledged their presence.

By now, Elizabeth recognized Mr. Baxter’s smile for the forgery that it was. She waited until Mr. Baxter opened his mouth to speak. She interrupted him before he uttered a word. “My aunt barred you from visiting her home.”

Mr. Baxter had clearly expected a different greeting. He closed his mouth, considered, and then said, “I apologize for calling so near to dinner. May I speak with Mrs. Spencer?”

Mr. Baxter took a step to come inside the house and James blocked his path. Mr. Baxter forced a jovial sound, but his smile had turned sour. “Come now, Miss Knight. I understand that Sir Matthew upset everyone. However, I have business to discuss and I do not believe you wish to do that in the street like a fishmonger.”

Elizabeth’s eyes were still itchy and swollen from her crying, and she knew all too well that her face was as red as a strawberry. Nevertheless, the anger in her voice was unmistakable. “I know you are here to trick me into selling my books. I know someone from the Royal Occult Society attempted to bribe my brother to arrange a violent attack upon my very person when I depart for the country. So, no, sir. I will not be parting with my inheritance. So, therefore, you have no further business in my aunt’s home.”

Mr. Baxter looked over her shoulder. “Well, Mr. Knight. I suspect your father will be receiving a letter soon about your gambling debts. Or, did you forget to mention those to your dear sister here?”

Mr. Baxter’s grin faded upon seeing Elizabeth’s expression. He had honestly thought Charles would not have told her about the debts.

“I fear I have not been clear or forthright enough with you and Sir Matthew. It appears there is some confusion between us,” Elizabeth said.

One of the men behind Mr. Baxter spoke. He was tall enough to loom over Mr. Baxter, despite being on a lower stair. “Excuse me, miss, I am—”

“I have no wish to make your acquaintance, sir,” Elizabeth said. It had been the first time in her life she had cut someone, but she has seen Maria and Aunt Cass do it. She felt instantly guilty for her rudeness, but forced down her feminine graces. She would behave as a man in this conversation.

No. No, that was not correct. She would behave as a newly-minted heiress she actually was. She was in possession of fourteen hundred from her uncle. At least three thousand pounds sat in her drawer with her hose and stays. She was not as rich as many a young lady in England, but she was not penniless.

“It appears that I must set aside propriety for a moment and engage in a little trade and politics. Now, Mr. Baxter, I assume the two gentlemen with you are attorneys for the Royal Occult Society.”

This time, the other lawyer spoke. He was an older gentleman, with grey whiskers. He leaned as to look around Mr. Baxter at her. “Yes, miss. As my colleague here wished to say, we are—”

“I also do not wish to make your acquaintance. My business is with Mr. Baxter.”

Elizabeth’s heart pounded at the shocked looks of the three gentlemen. They were not accustomed to young ladies speaking to them with such authority. Which was just as well, because she was also not accustomed to speaking to men in such a rude and undignified fashion. Nevertheless, she would persist in her present course. They had gone too far, and she was now fighting for her very life.

“Mr. Baxter, allow me to be clear in my words. You, sir, will not write my father. You, sir, will leave my brother alone and will never speak to him again. And in exchange...”

“In exchange, I will not report you to the nearest magistrate that you attempted to rob me. I am a young, unmarried woman, and the eldest daughter of a county rector. I suspect the papers will not take kindly upon a London occultist who threatens a lady with highwaymen because she refused to be swindled out of her inheritance.”

“I will be addressed as Miss Knight, as is fitting considering our acquaintance is in business only.” She grew faint from the rapid pounding of her heart.

As she stared at Mr. Baxter’s growing anger, she knew that one more lie was necessary to protect herself. For now, her only lies were those of omission. However, she hoped God would understand this next one.

“That isn’t what happened,” Mr. Baxter blurted. Catching himself, he clarified. “I only mean, in terms of what I have heard about town. There was nothing destroyed.”

“As the person who suffered burns and cuts, I can assure you plenty was destroyed as I attempted not to burn to death.” She gulped down the lump in her throat. “Now, as for the letters you have repeatedly requested, many of those did survive and will be given to Mr. Fitzharding of Ashbrook. I would prefer not to write to my brother-in-law and beg his assistance in a legal matter, whereby I am being accosted to hand over his own wife’s only tangible connection with her deceased mother.”

Mr. Baxter took a step forward. He was significantly taller than her more modest feminine height, and she was certain he’d used it in the past to intimidate women. “Are you threatening me, girl?”

“Miss Knight,” Elizabeth correct. “My name is Miss Knight. And, in point of fact, sir, the only person being threatened here is myself. Our unequal situations in life means that I will not be able to protect myself from your attacks. Therefore, I will use every method at my disposal to protect myself against powerful men as yourself.”

She did not flinch, nor did she pull away her gaze, no matter what her upbringing had told her to do. “Mr. Grant, may I beg your assistance please?”

Mr. Grant stepped next to her in the doorway. “I am very happy to be of service, Miss Knight. Mr. Baxter. Gentlemen. Good to see you all on this fine evening.”

“Assisting my clients, of course. Now, as to the matter at hand. I have spoken with several of my legal colleagues through the city, and we are in unanimous agreement: Miss Knight’s case is sound. The few books she does own, are hers by inheritance. Her father, of which Mr. Charles Knight can confirm, did not actually give permission for the sale of the books. In fact, as Mr. Charles Knight tells it, Mr. Knight of Bryden later said he wished to discuss the matter with his daughter himself. And, further, considering that his wife is suffering a grievous and dangerous ailment at the current time of your visit, it is rather ungentlemanly to have attempted to accost the poor man. In fact, I would consider it harassment, and if it were to continue, I might feel compelled to write a letter to The Times expressing my concerns.”

“You wouldn’t!” Mr. Baxter said. “You would risk your career over a penniless girl with no family of worth?”

“How dare you, sir!” Henry Thorne said, in a rather angry tone. “Miss Knight is the daughter of a respected country rector. She is the sister to Mrs. Fitzharding, a very wealthy wife of a country gentlemen. She has family, sir. And she has friends, sir. Wealthy, powerful friends.”

The doorway was growing crowded, with her in the front, Mr. Grant to one side, and Henry Thorne practically breathing down her neck on the other side. Still, she was bolstered by their presence. She said nothing and waited for Mr. Baxter.

Finally, after some furtive glances with his companions, Mr. Baxter asked, “Will you give me your word that the books were destroyed?”

“I have given you more than I already wished to, sir. Is our business finally concluded, or will I have to endure more aggravation?”

Mr. Baxter stared at her long and hard, but when he glanced back at his lawyers, they both shook their heads. They had tried to trick her, threaten her, and steal from her. She had won.

“No. The Royal Occult Society rescinds its offer to purchase the books.” He looked at Mr. Grant. “As for you, you are no longer welcome at the Royal Occult Society and we will be ceasing all business ties with you.”

“I shall expect the return of my society fees by the end of the week,” Mr. Grant said. “I would prefer it paid in Bank of England bank notes, if you please. I will inform my assistant you will be arriving.”

“Good day, Mr. Baxter. Gentlemen.” Elizabeth took a small step back. Mr. Grant and Henry Thorne quickly stepped out of her personal space. She nodded at James, who shut the door rather louder than was strictly necessary.

“Miss Knight, you have more fortitude than some men I know,” Mr. Grant said. He inclined his head to her and said, “I suspect it will be a while until they come knocking upon your door.”

“Oh, Mr. Grant. I must apologize that they have hurt your business. I had not wanted that. Is there anything I can do to assist?”

Mr. Grant waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, do not concern yourself with that. Honestly, the Royal Occult Society rarely pay their debts. I am happy to be rid of them.”

“You lied to those men, Elizabeth,” Charles said. “Father will not be pleased with you.”

Elizabeth had enough guilt about lying. She did not need her own brother rubbing salt into the wound. “As I am certain God knows I lied to cover your lies. Perhaps you should concentrate on your own salvation, and I shall worry about mine. Mr. Grant, are you certain I am free of them?”

“For a time, yes. I suspect you will see them again if there is any financial trouble in the future, especially concerning your brother and debts.” Mr. Grant gave Charles a side glance.

“I will try to lay off the cards, Elizabeth,” Charles said. “Are you going to tell Papa?”

When Mr. Grant and Henry Thorne walked to the dining room and pointedly, James closed the large double doors. Elizabeth said to Charles, “It appears we both have secrets from our father that the other holds.”

“Neither do I. Elizabeth, I am so very sorry for the things I said to you. I cannot look at them without shame.”

She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to scream and call him names and perhaps even throw a vase at him. Of course, she did none of those things. Instead, she nodded her head very slowly and said, “I know you regret your words.”

“I wonder if Father still has the money set aside for me to return to Oxford?”

“If not, I am sure we can find a way. Perhaps you could go on a scholarship, and work at the university. That is how Papa paid for his time there.”

She reached out and touched his arm. “We are all as poor and as rich as what is in our hearts. People who judge you for being poor are not your true friends. I hope, one day, you will accept that. And, at least, you are a man. You have the opportunity to change your fate. I do not.”

“You could marry a rich man,” Charles said. The soft smile on his lips said he did not mean it harshly.

“Alas, the laws of the England state that I still need the man’s permission.”

Charles nodded. “That is a hindrance, my dear sister. What shall we tell Papa?”

“I am not quite done in London, but I must head home. Is Isabella truly ill?”

“Yes,” Charles said. “She did not want anyone to tell you, but she is in danger.”

Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped. She knew her duty, and she did truly wish to be by Isabella’s side. Her younger sisters, still grieving their own mother’s death, would be terrors to the poor woman. Now, to have in front of them that same situation all over again might prove too much for them. Georgiana could go either way: clinging to Isabella for dear life, or harshly abandoning her. Theodosia would, of course, turn to pranks and spite to hide her feelings and fears.

The dining room doors creaked open and footsteps sounded on the floor. “Elizabeth. Might I interrupt?”

Elizabeth turned to see not just her aunt, but also Mrs. Taylor and Susan. “Yes?”

“We have been discussing your delicate matter in the dining room. With your permission, Mrs. Taylor would like to go to Bryden to stay with Isabella until you are able to return.”

“I am strong enough to not need a constant nurse, and I shall like to help you sort the remainder of the books. As well as our other tasks,” Susan said.

Mrs. Taylor nodded. “And Mrs. Spencer has so kindly provided for my salary, that I would be very welcome to assist her in any way. I have never been to Bryden or even seen that part of the country in all my life. I would like to see it, and would not mind being a helper to your stepmother. She must need all of the help she can get.”

“But...where would you stay? We have no servant quarters in the rectory because we hire from the village,” Elizabeth said.

Charles cleared his throat. “She could stay in your room, while you are in London.”

“Oh, I did not even think of that. Oh, but Mrs. Taylor, I could not ask that of you. No, I should go back. It is my duty.”

Aunt Cass squared her shoulders, announcing that she was able to pull rank on her niece. “My dear girl. You are needed in two places at once. Mrs. Taylor, who is very experienced, will assist Mrs. Knight until you are finished here in London. Charles, do you see a problem with this scheme?”

“No, indeed, ma’am. In fact, I can escort Mrs. Taylor first thing in the morning.”

“I can take you are far as the Hillsbury Inn in my carriage, and then you can switch to the coach,” Mr. Thorne said from behind the ladies.

“Thank you, Thorne. That will make several hours of the journey more comfortable for Mrs. Taylor,” Charles said.

“With your permission, ma’am, I shall pack immediately,” Mrs. Taylor said.

Aunt Cass nodded. “Of course. And thank you, Mrs. Taylor. I shall have an advance on your wages directed to you at Bryden. Mr. Grant, will you assist?”

“In fact, Mrs. Spencer, if one of the footmen can escort me back to my office when our business here is concluded, I shall give him the advance immediately for her journey.”

Mrs. Taylor nodded and said, “Thank you sirs. I shall be ready in the morning for when you call.”

The men agreed and Mrs. Taylor parted the company. Elizabeth was still very uneasy about the arrangement, and asked, “Won’t Papa be upset?”

Charles pondered her question. “I can tell Papa that I was concerned about you knowing the particulars, so soon after the attack, that I did not immediately tell you the situation at home. However, when I was convinced you were indeed not injured in the slightest, I decided to speak with Mrs. Spencer first. And she felt...um...she felt...”

Aunt Cass helped with the chronicle of deception. “Since we have taken on an ill family friend, Miss Susan...Miss Susan...?”

“Yes, Miss Susan Markson, who is recovering from a terrible ailment and had lost her employment as a governess. Therefore, it was decided amongst us that Elizabeth would stay in town to finish the last of the book auctions and to care for Miss Susan. And, since Mrs. Taylor was no longer needed here to serve as nurse, due to Miss Susan’s improving condition, she would be better served assisting Mrs. Knight, who needed the guiding hand of experience as opposed to an unmarried young woman.”

“It is close enough to the truth,” Charles said. “Then, we don’t have to tell Father what I’ve done.”

“This is why I do not approve of lying. The only way to get out of the lie is to tell more lies.” Elizabeth sighed. “I will agree to this, but only this once. Charles, from now, I will not lie for you. Do you understand me? I promise faithfully that I will not tell our father about what has happened here, but I will never again lie for you.”

She did not believe for a moment that her brother learned his lesson. For as long as he continued to associate with men higher in rank than himself, Charles would struggle with his feelings of inadequacy. She wished with all her heart she could make him see that he would have an easier time in life if he took a profession. Mr. Fitzharding could assist him then. Henry Thorne could assist him. Even Aunt Cass could help him out. But it was impossible to help someone who refused to make the simplest of decisions.

Elizabeth wanted to argue the point but relented. “Please tell Isabella and our father that I will be back as soon as I finish the book auction for my aunt, and when I am certain Miss Susan has recovered enough to not be a burden upon my aunt or any of the servants. Oh, Miss Susan, I apologize for how I phrased that. I am...quite fatigued.”

“I was not offended, Elizabeth. Your aunt has been very kind to us, and I look forward to being able to go back to work as a teacher as soon as possible.” Susan sighed. “Though, I suppose once it is known I have been staying here, my position at the Royal Occult Society school will be permanently rescinded.”

That had not occurred to Elizabeth. “I had not even considered that. Please forgive me.”

“Elizabeth,” Aunt Cass said. “You take too much upon yourself. Allow me to shoulder some of the burden of my own brother’s servant and her family, please. Now, I believe we should all gather back in the dining room and eat what Cook had spent all day preparing for us. Mr. Knight, you are welcome to join us.”

“No, thank you Mrs. Spencer. I shall head back to my lodgings to pack. I have caused enough tension in this house already with my presence. Again, I am very sorry.”

Aunt Cass inclined her head. Charles made a motion to hug his sister, but changed his mind and gently touched her arm. Then, he left the house.