Ether & Elephants (11 page)

“That I do.” She smiled up at him. The warmth of his body and the scent of his aftershave lotion surrounded her. Being this close felt…nice. Not earth-shattering, not heart-pounding, but as if she were wrapped in a cocoon of affection. She gave in to the urge to lean her head against his shoulder, which was nicer yet. “Are you still interested in becoming part of this impressively terrifying bunch?”

“For you, my dear, I’d join a traveling circus.” He placed a kiss on her temple.

Nell laughed. “Oh, my, don’t let Belinda hear you say
that.
She grew up in one, and her great-uncle is a good friend of ours. In fact, there were a few weeks some years ago when many of us joined his circus, to find a killer. Can you believe I sang on stage?”

“Belinda is the youngest Lady MacKay, right? Dark hair, dark eyes? Rather…” Roger looked down at Nell’s modest bosom.

“Voluptuous?” Poor Roger was trying so hard to be polite. “Yes, that’s Belinda. Also the one with the twin toddlers.”

“From Gypsy circus to the wife of a Knight,” Roger said. “I suppose stranger things have happened.”

Nell pulled away and took Roger’s hand, drawing him deeper into the garden, away from the others. “I told you my family was somewhat out of the ordinary. Is Belinda’s story any stranger than a group of street children adopted by a baron? You realize my mother—Fanny Jenkins, not Caro Hadrian, was a prostitute, don’t you? All I know of my natural father is that he was a dark-skinned sailor, possibly from India or Burma or the like. Even Mum—Caro—was originally a governess. I’m no lily-white English rose with a perfect pedigree, despite the
Honorable Miss
in front of my name. Do you have a problem with that, Roger?”

“No, no, of course not.” He hesitated just slightly over the words, giving the hint of a lie to them. Still, she believed that he wanted to be open-minded. Perhaps it would just take some time. “No matter your past, I never thought of you as anything but a lady. I’m a little shocked about the circus, though. I thought you hated to perform in public.”

“I do. It’s a long story, but Belinda’s life and others were at stake.” She patted his hand. “That’s another thing you should know about my family. We do what we have to do, even if we don’t like it. We’re rather like Mr. Dumas’s musketeers. ‘One for all and all for one.’ And we don’t shy away from risks, especially when someone needs our help.”

He lifted her gloved hand to his lips and kissed it. “Well, I can only hope that same fierce loyalty will extend to me, and any family we may have. I’ve watched you with children for years now, you know. You’re going to make a marvelous mother.”

“I look forward to it.” About that, Nell didn’t have to be evasive, so she told him the absolute truth. “I’d love a big family. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I look forward to that as well.” He drew her in close and lowered his lips to hers. “In fact, the sooner the better, my love. When can we wed? Are you intent on a long engagement?”

“No. We can set the date as soon as we find Charlie,” she whispered. He was about to kiss her, and suddenly it felt awkward. She pulled back. “How would you feel about opening a school, you and I? One for children with nowhere else to go, like the ones from the mine today? And our own, of course.”

“A charity school?” A small furrow formed between his eyebrows. “I don’t think my estate could support one. It’s a nice place, but not that lucrative. Besides, I wasn’t planning to continue teaching. I’d rather expected to settle down and be a gentleman farmer, with you as my pampered lady of the manor, not a working teacher or headmistress. Now, if you wanted to be a patroness, I’m sure we can find a school in Sussex that could use your enthusiasm and family connections.”

“Well, think about it,” Nell said. “My parents would help and I do have some money of my own. We could take some paying students as well, to help keep the school solvent.” She decided not to mention Nancy yet. Roger was a good man. He’d come around eventually. “More importantly, did any of your work with Wink and Melody shed any new light on where we might find Charlie?”

“No, it just cast even more shadows on his possible origins.” As if sensing their romantic moment had come to an end, Roger took her arm and started back toward the group on the main lawn. “I gather the chaps interrogating the miners didn’t fare much better. We’re still at a dead end, it seems.”

“Well, we can keep trying to find out who the miners were working for.” Nell paused as Nancy, now smiling and pretty in one of Emma’s outgrown dresses, ran up to her.

“Miss Nell, did I hear that right? Are you looking for Mr. Wickers’s boss-man?”

Nell introduced the child to Roger, taking hold of the hand without the broken fingers. “Is there something you can tell us, Nancy?” Had no one thought to question the children? She thought back. Yes, Tom had, but Nancy had stayed in the kitchen, helping with the younger ones. No one had interviewed her, and she was probably the best witness of the lot. Dear heavens, they were all idiots.

“Mr. Albert Barclay, Number 22 Pemberton Lane, Birming’am,” Nancy recited. “I saw it on his card, you see, when we were all in the factory for testing.”

“Testing?” Nell drew Nancy with her to a bench and gestured for some of the others to come join them. Soon Caro, Geneva and Sir Fergus had gathered around. “Nancy, tell us about this testing, the factory and anything you can about this Mr. Barclay.”

“All right.” She drew in a deep breath and puffed up her chest. “After they grabbed us, they took us to this big factory building. Don’t know what they were making, but it was noisy and smelled like rotten eggs. There were four of us they nabbed from the docks. I was the biggest, little Fred was the smallest. He’s six. Or he was. Had a terrible cough. Don’t think he was going to make it much longer.” Her voice trembled, but she went on.

Nell understood. When you lived in those conditions, you saw a lot of death, and you couldn’t let each one drag you down too far or you’d be next.

“And what happened at the factory?” Caro asked, kneeling in front of the child.

“They tested us, like I said. Could we read? How fast could we run? How much could we carry? Other stuff too, like could we see in the dark, or know what card someone pulled from a deck before we saw it. Don’t know how, but this one girl could do that. She’s the one they took away first. Then Fred. I heard one of the bully boys saying to just dump him back on the street.”

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Nell said. “Do you know where this factory is?”

“Thanks, miss.” Nancy’s face scrunched up as she thought about it. “And no. They carried us in a closed coach. But it was half a day or so to get to the mine, once they decided to send me there.”

“And Mr. Barclay. How did you find out his address?”

“Saw it on his card,” she said. “I’m nothing special at much, but once I read something, I always remember it, usually word for word. Bible verses, mostly. That’s what our neighbor lady used to teach me reading and writing.”

What a brilliant child. She was so definitely going to school!

“So you saw him hand someone a calling card?” Caro asked. “That’s a clever way to find information.”

Nancy didn’t appear impressed by the praise. “He gave it to the two men who came for the girl, the one who knew the spots on the cards. I only saw it for a moment.”

“Excellent.” Nell squeezed Nancy’s hand. “And can you describe Mr. Barclay?”

Nancy wrinkled her nose. “Know him again anywhere, I would. I don’t never forget a face, neither.”

Caro tilted her head. “I wonder. Can you draw? Could you maybe make us a picture of Mr. Barclay?”

“Not with my fingers like this.” Nancy held up her bandaged left hand. “Can’t draw much at all right now. Mrs. Gaskill said it was a sign of the devil to use the wrong hand, but even she couldn’t teach me to write with the other.”

“I have an idea,” Geneva said. “Let’s play a game. We’ll walk through the portrait gallery, and you can point things out on the pictures. That hair, this nose, and so forth. Then maybe someone can put together a sketch.”

“That’s brilliant!” Nell beamed at her friend. “Come along, Nancy. Let’s see some photographs. Roger, can you see if someone can run Mr. Barclay’s address through the Babbage engines? Perhaps something will turn up.”

“I have some small skill with engines,” Roger allowed. “Lady Northland, would you like to come with me?”

Caro laughed. “Heavens, no. If I so much as touch a machine, it breaks, but I can sketch a bit. I’ll go with Nell, while you and Geneva do the searching. And do call me Caro.”

Roger and Geneva split off for the workshop after having Nancy repeat the address. Caro collected a sketch pad and pencil in the library, on the way up to the Arrington family portrait gallery.

“Let’s start with something easy,” Caro said to the girl. “How tall was he, and how stout?”

“Taller than either of you,” Nancy said. “About the same as Dr. Genny.” Geneva was a moderately tall female. Caro made a note on her pad. “Not stout at all. More wiry like that older fellow, Hatch.”

“
Mister
Hatch is the butler here,” Nell reminded the child. “You should be polite to him. He works hard to see that everything runs smoothly.”

“And he coshed one of the guards with a rock.” A trace of hero worship shone in the girl’s blue eyes. “Wish I could’ve done that.”

“Me too,” Nell and Caro muttered at the same time. They chuckled, then turned back to Nancy, eliciting the information that Mr. Barclay had brown eyes, bushy eyebrows, brown hair shot with gray at the temples, was clean-shaven and smelled of bay rum. Then they walked through the portrait gallery, gathering notes of this chin or that nose. Finally, Caro sat down to sketch. “Is this him, Nancy?”

Nancy took an instinctive step backward. “Only the look in his eyes should be nastier, my lady. Right mean, through and through.”

The dressing gong sounded, reminding everyone that it was time to prepare for the evening’s dinner party. “I’ll walk Nancy up to the nursery,” Caro said, handing Nell the paper. “You go get ready to dazzle your fiancé. Since I knew you were going to be here for the party, I brought along some of your London clothes. We can show the sketch to the men after dinner.”

Nell made her way to her room, clutching the drawing. This was the monster that preyed on children. One way or another, she was determined that his reign of terror was about to end.

* * *

Tom watched Belinda shuffle the cards, desperately trying not to feel like an idiot.

“Think about your question,” she instructed. “Feel it, down to your toes. And be specific in what you ask. The clearer your query, the clearer the answers will be.”

“That’s part of the problem,” he grumbled. “There’s so much I don’t know that it’s difficult to decide where to begin.”

“Then either start at the beginning, or with whatever matters most. Whichever you choose, focus on it. Drive every other thought from your mind.”

What was most important? Whether or not Charlie was his son? Whether or not Tom was genuinely married? How to find the boy? How to stop other children from being taken? The proper one, the one that mattered most, settled into his heart. “I need to know—”

Belinda waved a hand to stop him. “I said concentrate. Not tell me. Just focus.”

What should I do?
Tom repeated the question over and over in his thoughts.

“Now shuffle the cards three times then cut the deck.” Belinda handed him the stack of cards and Tom did as he was bid, then handed them back, chanting the query in his head.

Nell crossed two cards, facedown, then spread out four cards around them in the shape of a cross, and four more in a straight line. One by one, she flipped them.

The bottom center card featured a man hanging from a tree by his foot. Crossing that was the image of a giant wheel with mystic symbols. Each card featured a drawing, none of the numbers and suits Tom had been expecting.

Belinda gasped. “I’ve never,
never
, seen a spread with so many major arcana. Tom, this is…frightening to say the least.”

“We already knew this mission was dangerous.” Tom clenched his hands in his lap. “Tell me. Please.”

“Of course.” She licked her lips. “The hanged man represents you. You’re at a crossroads in your life, whether or not you’re aware of it. This is more than just a mission for you. The outcome could be extremely personal, changing your entire life.”

That was common knowledge, given the subject of the investigation. Tom waited for her to continue.

“Moon, reversed. The situation is built on confusion and loss of control, perhaps even the mania of the villain.” Belinda drew a breath. “In the past is a dark, sad woman. I think we both know who that is.”

Tom tipped his head again at the card of a black-haired woman holding a sword. For a moment he could have sworn he saw Nell’s face superimposed over that of the older woman on the card.

The next card she pointed to was obvious—the grim reaper. Tom lifted an eyebrow. “Death.”

“Yes.” Belinda tapped the card. “In the possible future position. But the card doesn’t necessarily mean physical death. It can sometimes represent the end of one life and the beginning of another. It could mean a change in career, for example, or in the fundamental way a person thinks. Marriage, widowhood, a move abroad. Or, it could be a warning of genuine danger. Here, I’d take that as a real possibility.”

“Of course.” Tom wasn’t stupid enough to ignore any warnings. Still, none of this had given him any suggestions on what to do.

“The tower can indicate imprisonment. In this case, it’s probably that of the children you’re looking for. But it could also refer to the trap of your marriage. Or, that your search is at a standstill. Someone, or something, is stuck.” She moved to the vertical line of cards. “The devil is an external influence. He can mean a lot of things, many of them nonthreatening, but here, I’d say you’ve a fight in store with the kidnapper. He will do his best to thwart you. The magician reversed represents your internal conflicts, confusion and hesitation. This is a warning, again. Don’t let your doubts get the best of you. Trust your training, your intellect and your heart. When the time to act comes, don’t hesitate.”