Breakfast the following morning was one of the most awkward meals Xanthe had ever had to sit through. Fairfax sat at the head of the table in what had been, until only the day before, Mr. Wilcox’s place. To his right sat Petronella, subdued and pale, her lack of appetite obvious to everyone. Liam was doing his best to lighten the atmosphere in the dining room but with little success. Xanthe found herself eating quickly, keen to be anywhere but sitting among the sorry remnants of the family, finding the smug expression on Fairfax’s face unbearable. Evie’s chair was empty.
“Evie is late down this morning,” she commented. “She’s usually hungry as a hunter and keen to be attacking the day.”
Petronella looked at her sister’s vacant seat as if only just noticing her absence. “I imagine she is tired after the long celebrations of yesterday,” she said quietly. “Let her sleep. There are no appointments arranged for today and she has no lessons with Miss Talbot, it being Sunday. We can attend evensong in place of morning prayers.”
Liam accepted more scrambled eggs from the footman. “Nothing like a good breakfast after a late night, I find. Best cure for a hangover.”
“What is a hangover?” Petronella asked. “It sounds frightful.”
“Oh, a London expression,” he explained. “It refers to suffering the aftereffects of too much drinking.” Xanthe was impressed at how adept Liam had become at explaining away his anachronistic speech and vocabulary. Their plan for him to be the moody silent type and say as little as possible had never worked. She saw that she should have trusted him to be capable of finding his own way of being a Regency gentleman. He was really quite good at it.
“I see. Father takes raw egg with a dash of vinegar in it when he is similarly out of sorts.” Her face brightened for an instant as she spoke of her father and then looked sad again as she glanced at the man who had taken his place as head of the household.
The lady’s maid who attended both the young Wilcox girls entered the room looking more than a little flustered. She hurried over to Petronella as if to speak to her privately but Fairfax was having none of it.
“Elsie? Whatever is the matter that you should interrupt your mistress’s breakfast in such a way. You look alarmed, and that in itself will alarm my wife.”
Xanthe winced at the way he spoke of Petronella.
Elsie bobbed a curtsey and spoke quickly.
“Beg pardon, Mr. Fairfax, sir, but it is Miss Evangeline.”
Petronella put down her spoon. “Is Evie unwell?”
“Not unwell, Miss … Mrs. Fairfax. Missing.”
“Missing?” Now Petronella was truly alarmed.
“Not in her room, and, by the look of it, her bed has not been slept in.”
Petronella rose from her chair, the sound of the wooden legs scraping against the floor echoing through the brief silence in the room. “Elsie, please ask the servants if anyone has seen her this morning.”
“I will, ma’am. Shall I have them search the house?”
“Please do,” Fairfax interrupted.
“She won’t be indoors,” said Petronella. “Evie loves to be outside.” A sudden thought made her face light up again. “She might have gone to Father! Elsie, wait, have the gig sent round. I will go to the dower house directly.”
Fairfax stood up. “As you wish, my dear. Mr. Westlake, will you join me in a search of the estate? I shall have Henry roused from his bed. Little Evie may have taken it into her head to go on a woodland walk. We three can cover a deal of ground mounted. Do not distress yourself, my dear,” he said to Petronella, taking her hand. “We will find your sister, I am certain she has come to no harm.”
Xanthe frowned at him, annoyed that he should put the idea in her head. “Shall I accompany you to the dower house, Petronella?” she asked.
“Oh, would you be so kind as to remain here? In the event Evie returns to the house I should not like her to find it empty.”
“Of course,” she said, registering the notion that if only servants were in the building it was deemed to be empty.
Fifteen minutes later, Petronella was already on her way to her father, and saddled horses were being brought to the front of the house for the three men. Xanthe spoke to Liam as he mounted.
“Petronella will be inconsolable until she is found,” she said.
“Do you think she’s gone to her father? She was sad about him moving out of the Hall.”
“It’s possible.”
“I’m going to have a word with Henry about which route we’re taking. Try not to worry too much,” he told her, before riding his horse over to where Henry was having his stirrup leathers adjusted.
Fairfax was already on his grey horse. The weather was threatening to break, the sky heavy with the promise of a storm. Fairfax’s horse was beginning to sweat in the clammy air. He maneuvered it to stand uncomfortably close to Xanthe, so that he was able to speak to her unheard by anyone else.
“It is a fool’s errand we undertake, you should know that.”
“You don’t think you’ll find her in the park somewhere?”
“Evangeline will not be found until I deem it opportune.”
She stared at him. “What have you done with her?”
“She is quite safe. For now.”
“But, why would you take her? She must be terrified. What can you possibly hope to gain by stealing her away and causing Petronella such anguish?”
“Let us say simply that I have her in my keeping against your being … impetuous. There is no reason to fear for her safety, as long as our exchange goes smoothly. Until noon, then,” he said, touching his hat to her and then wheeling his horse about to lead the others off at a gallop, giving Xanthe no chance to tell Liam what she had just learned.
As she watched them disappear across the parkland her thoughts raced for a solution to this development. In two hours she would face Fairfax and try to take the astrolabe from him. She had turned the thing over and over in her mind and decided that he would not be satisfied with having only the book. He could not risk losing the device that might still be crucial to his time traveling. Which meant he would try to get the Spinners book from her and keep the astrolabe. Which was something she could not allow to happen. She had been prepared to use her Spinners gift of time-within-time to take him to another point in an earlier century and leave him there. It would not have been easy, but it was the only way she could be certain he would no longer pose a threat nor recklessly break all the Spinners’ codes for his own gain. But now, with Evie hidden somewhere only Fairfax knew of, there was no way she could carry out her plan. She paced up and down in the walled garden, furious that he could have done something so awful. She could not risk Evie’s life, not even for the Spinners. It seemed Fairfax had her trapped whichever way she turned. Somehow she had put herself in a situation where she would have no choice but to give him what he wanted. And then what? He would have the astrolabe and the book, and her, if it came to it. All she had done by traveling to his time was to make him more powerful, to feed his craving for power over other people and to make himself unassailable. At that moment, more than anything she was furious with herself for allowing him to outwit her. She had no idea what to do next except give in to his demands. She thought of going to Mistress Flyte and asking for her help, but after what she had seen in her past, and the resistance the old woman had offered to Liam’s presence, she no longer felt she dare trust her completely. There was no one she could turn to to sort things out. It was down to her. A fierce determination grew inside her. She would get Evie back; that was her first priority. And if that meant giving Fairfax the book, so be it. She would get it back. She would part with it only temporarily to ensure the girl’s safety, and, hopefully, to part Fairfax from the astrolabe. She wasn’t totally reliant on the book to do her work as a Spinner. She had proved that to herself. Fairfax might have won this point, but the game was far from over. She would do what she had to do, even if it meant being separated from the book for a while. In the end, she was cleverer than him. She was more determined. She would get it back.
When Xanthe set off for the lake the lowering sky was still withholding the much-needed rain it carried. By the time she reached the folly, however, it had released its grip, and the resulting downpour was startling. The parched soil released its wonderful petrichor as it drank in the long-awaited water. She was soaked through in minutes and thankful for the fact that she was wearing her cotton rather than her muslin dress. The flowery print clung to her but at least it was not rendered transparent. She had also kept the Spinners book in its wrapping of cloth, so that it was at least protected. The pins the maid had styled her hair with were no match for her long curls when weighted with water, so that the shape quickly unraveled. She climbed the stairs of the tower cautiously. They had been uneven but dry on her first visit. A wash of fast-moving rain had rendered them hazardously slippery. When she reached the turret she thought at first she had arrived before Fairfax, but then, looking over the edge, she saw his horse tethered on the other side of the wall.
“I am pleased to see you did not think to keep me waiting, Miss Westlake.”
Xanthe turned slowly to face her adversary. He was still dressed in his woolen riding coat and long leather top boots complete with spurs. Rain fell from the brim of his black hat. She regarded him through a blur of water, having no hat of her own. She blinked away the rain that poured into her eyes, and held the Spinners book tightly, her arms folded across it.
“Where is Evangeline?” she demanded.
“Somewhere none of those devoted searchers will ever find her,” he said with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Her continued safety lies with you now, my little Spinner. Give me the book.”
“Give me the astrolabe,” she replied.
Fairfax smiled, taking the device from his pocket and holding it up. “Such a wondrous thing,” he said, turning it so that the rain coursed over its intricately worked surface. “And so very important to me. Why would you think I would ever part with it?”
“We had a deal. An arrangement.”
“A necessary ruse to bring you to me, with the book. I had not imagined you would be quite so … recalcitrant. One would have thought having your home near burnt to the ground with yourself and your mother in it might have been persuasion enough. It seems not. The sham of a bargain, on the other hand, and here you are.”
“Why?” she asked him, shaking her head. “Why do you want it all so much? You have money now, a beautiful wife, a grand house, the social standing you were always chasing. Why can’t you be content? Doesn’t it matter to you at all that your greed is hurting people?”
He looked as if he would give a terse response but for a second or two he paused and seemed to be casting his mind back. “I lived a simple life, once. I was not born into wealth or privilege and I had been content to live as a lowly merchant’s son. My family sold all manner of goods; salt, fine rugs, glass, silk. My father would switch his products according to the demands of his customers. He was an astute man of commerce, yet we were ever only a single poor transaction or one bad debt away from penury or ruin. It was a precarious existence. After my father’s death I became head of the business but had not any hope of advancement. I wished to marry, and would have done so, but politics at that time were apt to trample underfoot those who played only small parts. I lost the only woman I had ever … will ever love to the shifting tides of political powers. A monarch who took against her family religion. A nation thirsty for the blood of others to make themselves feel safer. Only my own cunning kept me alive. I vowed I would rise up and never again be so vulnerable to the whims and wishes of others. I would claw up the rocky face of society to a pinnacle from which I would not be moved. When I discovered my ability as a Spinner, and when I found my astrolabe, I saw the path to true power, the nature of which would never be challenged.” He returned the astrolabe to his pocket and held out his hand. “Give me the book.”
“And then you will tell me where you are hiding Evie?”
“I will. You have my word.”
“That has not proved worth a great deal, now, has it?”
“It is all I am prepared to give you.”
She nodded, her heart pounding. She knew she was taking a huge risk, but could see no other way. Her hand shook as she passed him the book, shaking away the whispered voices that had set up urgent entreaties, warning her not to trust him, counseling against the very action she was taking. At the point where they both had hold of it she said, “At least let me look at the astrolabe. One last time. I know you will only lead me to Evie if you have both it and the book, even so, I should like to see it again. It is, as you said, a wondrous thing.”
Slowly he pulled the book from her grasp. For a moment it looked as if he would refuse her request but pride overruled his caution, just as she had hoped it would. He took out the astrolabe again and handed it to her. He pulled the book to him, hunching over it in a way that was both possessive and protective, as he could wait not a moment longer to look inside. He unwound its wrapping and opened the book, his stooped body shielding it from the worst of the rain. Xanthe took a step backward as she watched his expression change from eager anticipation to shock and rage.
“What trickery is this? There is nought but empty pages!”
“You knew this might happen. I warned you. You were just too arrogant to accept that the book wouldn’t trust you,” she told him calmly. “It will only share its secrets with those who will use them well.”
“I need the astrolabe to see them! That is all.”
“That might work,” she agreed, taking another small step back. “More likely you need someone who can read what is there. Someone like me. But then, why would I help you?”
As she spoke she reached under the collar of her dress and pulled out her gold locket. Fairfax, realizing what she was about to do, lunged forward. Before she could make the transition toward home he had grabbed hold of her. She knew there was every chance he would travel with her unless she could shake him off.
“Let me go!” she shouted, twisting to free herself, the rain still beating down upon them both, the noise of it louder now. Fairfax had her arm in a grip so tight she could feel his nails digging into her flesh through the cotton of her sleeve. She kicked him smartly in the shin, making him shout out, the sharp pain briefly diverting his attention from the book, which she batted from his grasp. He cursed as he dropped it and she seized the moment to try to free herself, but still he held firm. She wrenched her arm backward, fighting to get away from him, causing him to lean forward to maintain his grasp. Which was what, ultimately, caused them both to topple over the top of the low wall. His weight, pushed against her smaller, slender frame, unbalanced her, so that together they tipped over the castellation and plummeted toward the lake.
The fall was so sudden and so disorienting Xanthe did not have time to register fear. Instinctively she tightened her grip on the astrolabe in her left hand, but falling headfirst confused her, making her reach out for the water she knew was coming, so that she let go of her locket. It was still fastened to the chain around her neck, but she must have hold of it to return home. She took a deep breath the instant before she plunged through the surface of the lake, hearing Fairfax cry out as they did so. She felt herself free of him then. The height of the drop meant that she continued down, down, down to the very bottom of the lake, landing among the long, grabbing weeds Evie had warned her of. She swam for the sunlight, fighting against the water as it dragged at her sodden clothes. Beside her, Fairfax was also struggling, the weight of his boots and spurs and thick jacket greatly hampering him. Even so, he reached out and grabbed her ankle. She kicked wildly, aware that she had little air left, little time to escape. He pulled at her, dragging her downward when she needed desperately to be going up. He reached over and clawed at her hand, trying to take the astrolabe. She saw then that he would never let it go. She took hold of her gold locket again, knowing that she was not strong enough to free herself and reach the surface in time. Her only hope was to spin home. Fairfax’s grip on her ankle was impossible to shift. He looked at her then, his face contorted with fury, determination, and hatred written in every furrow, every line that bitterness had drawn over many long years. The device meant everything to him, for he could not imagine life without it.
Xanthe wrenched her hand away from him and with all her strength flung the astrolabe away. Away from herself, and away from him. The weight of the brass caused it to fall deeper at once. Fairfax let go of her and plunged after his treasure. As Xanthe clutched the locket and thought of Flora and the blind house and home, her vision faded, and with it the disappearing figure of Fairfax swimming away from her.
The transition was abrupt, as if affected by the heightened danger and very real peril from which she was escaping. Xanthe arrived in the blind house gasping for breath and coughing up water, her sodden clothes heavy against her shocked and chilled body. Without a moment’s hesitation, she felt around the gritty floor for the wedding dress, which lay exactly where it had been as she left it to travel back before. She took hold of it, her voice trembling as she said aloud, “Take me back! Take me to Petronella and Liam!” There was a brief cacophony of shouts and cries, accompanied by the shrill whine of the wedding dress, and suddenly she was there again, on the bank of the lake, where the torrential rain still fell. She had returned as quickly as she could but still had no way of knowing how much time had passed. The fact that the storm was not yet spent gave her hope that she not been absent long at all. She scanned the lake, looking for sign of Fairfax, but he was nowhere to be seen. She heard shouts. Someone calling her name above the shimmering sound of the rain stinging the surface of the lake.
“Xanthe!” Liam came running from the folly toward her. “Xanthe!” he shouted again. As he reached her he fell to his knees beside her. “Dear God, look at you! What happened?”
She sat up, struggling to find her voice, seeing now that her wet clothes had picked up the loose dirt from the floor of the blind house. Her hair hung free and matted, and there was weed from the lake tangled in it.
“I’m all right,” she said, still coughing. “Fairfax … where is he? Have you seen him?”
“No. He gave us the slip while we were out looking for Evie. I knew you’d arranged to meet him here but I didn’t know when. When I got here I saw his horse. I found the book at the top of the tower.”
“Is it safe? He hasn’t taken it?”
“It’s here, look,” he said, pulling it out from beneath his jacket. “Here, see?”
She snatched it from him, holding it close, overcome with relief that it was still there.
“Xanthe,” Liam asked gently. “What the hell happened?”
“We fell…”
“Both of you? Did that bastard push you?”
She shook her head. “He was trying to get the astrolabe. I was trying to take it home.…”
“You’ve been back? To your house?”
“Yes, but, I had to let it go … in the lake.” She pointed toward where she and Fairfax had fought. To where she had thrown the astrolabe into the deep, knowing it would lure him away from her. “Where is he?” she asked again, struggling to her feet. “We have to find him.”
“We should get you back to the house, you’re in no condition to stay out here. You’re shivering. You were lucky you didn’t break your neck, a fall like that.”
“No!” She stepped away from him, desperate to make him understand but too shaken to make sense. “I have to find the astrolabe and I have to find him! He took Evie. He’s the only one who knows where she is!”
“Shit! OK. OK. We’ll look for him together. Come on.”
“I’ll go this way. I can use the bridge to circle the bottom end of the lake. You go around the folly.” As she ran, all she could think about was that if he had drowned they would never find Evie and it would be her fault. She kept her eyes on the water, slipping on the newly wet bank more than once. There was not a sign of him. The only thing that disturbed the surface of the lake was the pitiless rain. She worked out she could only have been back in her own time a matter of minutes. Enough time for Liam to get to the folly. Plenty of time for a person to drown. Or to swim to the bank, haul himself out, and … what? His horse was still where he had tied it. More tellingly, the Spinners book had been where he’d dropped it up on the parapet of the folly. By the time Xanthe reached the little wooden footbridge that spanned the point where the stream entered the lake she knew Fairfax must be dead. He would never have left the book he had risked so much to possess. The only other possibility was that he had managed to catch the astrolabe and, as she had done, had traveled through time in order to save himself. She stood on the bridge, leaning over the handrail, squinting through the rain at the lake. She half expected to see his body, facedown, floating lifelessly upon the water. What she had not expected, what caused her to cry out, was the sight of Fairfax looking up at her from no more than three feet below the surface. His pale hair spread out and floated behind him as the gentle current tugged at it. His eye patch was still in place and his one good eye was open, bulging, staring in horror. His hands were reaching up, drifting slightly this way and that, having failed to pull him up to that vital air. Xanthe peered down further into the depths. Now she could see that the long, sinuous weeds had wrapped themselves around his heavy boots and snagged upon his silver spurs, catching him in a deadly trap. Of the astrolabe there was no sign. Had he reached it he would have been able to save himself, so she concluded it must be lost in the silt at the bottom of the lake.
She stood up slowly, exhausted now by her experiences, appalled at the thought that she had put Evangeline in such peril. Suddenly, as if acknowledging the somber moment, the rain stopped. A silence replaced it that felt as heavy as the storm clouds that were now lifting and moving away.
“Liam!” She called to him, signaling, bringing him running from the far end of the lake. “He’s here!” she shouted. And then, more quietly, as if telling herself something that she was finding hard to take in, “Fairfax is dead.”