Ghost of the Thames (14 page)

He was silent again, deep in thought.
The muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched. She wanted to reach
over and smooth the deep lines in his forehead. Sophy knew she was
much more trouble than he’d bargained for.

As for her—in spite of it all—the
thrill of their kiss remained in her mind. For those minutes in his
arm, she’d been able to forget her troubles. She’d been swept away
to a place where the whispers of passion shut out the loud jarring
buzz of reality. And she’d adored the feeling of being the center
of his attention—of being wanted by him.

She felt a sense of warmth spread
through her joints and rise to the surface of her skin at the clear
image of what it would mean to become his mistress. She knew how
society viewed such women. They were held in contempt. But if that
was her only option in this harsh and violent city—and Captain
Seymour were to be her provider—that slight would certainly be
bearable. To be close to him. To awaken each morning in the arms of
such a man.

“You think those workers were from
India? Because of the language?”

His words interrupted her daydreaming.
Sophy was relieved that the shadows inside the carriage hid her
flushed face.

“I think so, but his answer to my
question was not specific as to where in India. Many languages are
spoken in that country.”

“And you know that.”

She frowned. “Another part of this
education that I cannot make sense of.”

Captain Seymour called to the driver
and gave him directions to an address in the city. They were not
going to her house in Soho.

“Another stop?”

“The members of the Geographical
Society of London keep meeting rooms on Regent Street. We are going
to visit a friend of mine who should be there about this time of
day. He might be able to offer a clue as to the origin of the
language you speak. He spends most of his afternoons
there.”

“And you believe the language might be
a clue to my past?”

He shrugged. “You ran across this
stranger at the West India Docks, where hundreds of ships coming
from the Orient are lined up. Considering your knowledge of the
port and merchant ships, we might be able to narrow the search. My
friend might just be able to tell us where that man is
from.”

“And what is your friend’s
name.”

“Archibald Acton.”

“He is a geographer?”

“He is an explorer, of sorts. Recently
retired. I know he spent a lot of time in different provinces of
India and the Far East.”

“How do you know him?” she
asked.

“He traveled aboard my ship on two
mapping expeditions a few years back. Although he is much older, we
became good friends on those voyages. We have corresponded since
I’ve been back in London, but I have not had a chance to visit with
him. This will be a perfect opportunity.”

Captain Seymour had become such an
integral part of Sophy’s present that she’d never given much
thought to his profession. He was a captain in the Royal Navy. A
chill ran through her. He was a naval officer; he would be going
away. He would not be a part of her life each day. She did not even
want to think of how desperate she’d be without him in her life
right now.

She had no doubt that the ghost would
visit her again soon. And she was nervous what demand she would
make, this time. Into what unforeseen dangers would she lead
Sophy?

The last time, she’d realized the
power the spirit wielded. Not going had hardly been an option, and
Sophy dreaded the next visit. It would be at night. Quite probably
when she was alone at her lodgings in Soho.

Sophy had to manage the appeasement of
both Captain Seymour and her ghostly guide. Somehow, she had to
satisfy the demands of both the living and the dead.

And that, she told herself, letting
out a deep breath, should present no difficulties, at
all.

CHAPTER 15

“The fellows of my Society have
traveled to the four corners of the world, risked our lives for
science and for the queen. We’ve spent our youth facing savages,
cannibals, disease, and the ravaging elements of nature. Have we
not, I ask you, Captain?”

“Indeed, you have, sir. Like my friend
Acton, I am certain you have spent a life of service and
distinction.” Edward cast a glance at the closed door where
Archibald Acton had been interviewing Sophy for nearly two
hours.

“Exactly,” the old man
said, running his hands in obvious frustration through his white
hair, which seemed to have a life of its own, each truculent strand
standing out in every direction. The man was eighty, if he was a
day, but he certainly was not lacking in either energy or passion.
“And then we come home with a simple hope of finding a
place,
not
to
rest our weary bones, sir, but rather to discuss and record for
posterity the astounding discoveries we have made. Is this too much
to ask?”

“Hardly.” Edward softly drummed the
carved arms of his chair.

“But instead, what do we
find? We are reduced to mere beggars. Here in the capital of the
world we must borrow space from the
botanists
, for heaven’s sake.” He
shook his head and looked imploringly at Edward. “Now, that is an
embarrassment. Is it not?”

The man continued, but Edward paid
little attention to the rest of what was being said. His mind was
in the other room with Sophy. From the night when he’d first laid
eyes on her in the upstairs room at Urania Cottage, he’d known the
mystery surrounding her wouldn’t be a simple one to
solve.

“
And what is your opinion,
Captain?”

He turned his attention to the old man
sitting across from him. The scientist was waiting for an answer,
but Edward had no idea what the question was.

The abrupt entrance of Acton into the
room saved him.

“Excuse me, sir,” Edward said,
standing and joining his friend near the door.

“Where is Sophy?”

“She is in the other room. Actually,
she is helping an assistant of mine with the translation of a
passage we’ve been struggling with for some time. The script is
from an ancient manuscript sent to me by a friend who is employed
by the East India Company.”

Archibald Acton seemed very pleased
with himself. He adjusted the spectacles on his nose—his blue eyes
shining with delight as he slapped Edward on the back.

“A gem. She is absolutely a gem . . .
in both mind and beauty, I must say. And an amazing story. Where
did you say you met her?”

“That is not information that I would
like to make public,” Edward told his old friend. “And the same
goes for her lack of memory regarding anything of her
past.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I can see how
easy it would be for someone to take advantage of her situation.
How lucky it is that she crossed paths with you.”

Edward tried not to think of his own
intentions when he’d taken the rooms at Soho for her. He followed
Acton inside the room.

Sophy’s head was bent over a document
of some kind with a young man of about her age. She was reading and
translating the text while Acton’s assistant took hurried notes.
Soft tendrils of hair danced around her beautiful face. The dim
light of afternoon pouring in created a luminous aura around her,
making her look almost ethereal. She looked up and smiled at
Edward, and he felt the warmth of it deep inside.

“Two more lines and we’ll be done,”
she told him.

Edward didn’t miss the look of deep
admiration the young assistant directed her. The poor chap was
already in love.

“Then I can assume you’ve identified
the language she speaks?” Edward asked quietly.

“Languages,” the old man corrected.
“You already knew about the French. Well, she has a competent
knowledge of Latin, as well. But that’s not why you brought her
here.”

The retired explorer walked to a table
by the window. Volumes of books lay scattered across it. “She
mentioned her ability to understand some people who appeared to be
from India. Well, there are more than twenty distinct languages
that are spoken in what we call India, and bloody little effort has
been given to documenting any of them.”

He chose a specific book and opened to
where lines of flowing script filled the pages. The figures looked
like art to Edward.

“She read this as easily
as you and I read the
Times
.”

“What is it?”

“Bengali. Variations of it are spoken
in many parts of India, but predominantly in the eastern and
northeastern regions. She can read and write the text, and she
appears to have a thorough understanding of it.”

Edward knew there were thousands of
British families tied into the East India Company in that region.
Men often took their wives with them and raised their children
there, but he couldn’t imagine many educating them in the language
of the native people.

“But that’s not the only language she
recognizes.” Acton paged through the book. “She knows some Hindi
and Urdu, and she appears to have some reading knowledge of several
less popular dialects.”

He opened another book with ornate
drawings and colored plates. “She has identified these places in
Calcutta and Dacca, and she believes she’s been there. Her
descriptions match what we’ve found in these books.”

Acton’s voice rose as he placed a hand
on Edward’s arm. “And most fascinating, my friend, she knows the
names of many Derozians.”

The old man didn’t wait for Edward to
ask, but continued on excitedly.

“The Derozians are a group of radical
Bengali free thinkers. These men are connected to the Hindu College
in Calcutta. They are named after their founding teacher, a
firebrand of a figure, Henry Louis Vivian Derozio. Your young
friend has expounded on some of their teachings. She is familiar
with their publications!”

Acton looked back in amazement at
Sophy. He appeared more in love than his assistant.

“I’ve never known a woman so well read
and educated in such topics as she is. She is quite young, so a
great deal of credit must, of course, go to her father or husband
to cultivate in her, such a mind.”

The word
‘
husband’
felt
like a spike being driven into Edward’s chest. The mystery, though,
seemed to be nearer to being solved.

“This is a great help, Acton. I shall
direct my attention to families in London who have spent some time
in Bengal.”

“That won’t be easy, my friend. I
think you’ll find a large number that fall into that category. At
present, I believe there are some forty thousand soldiers alone
that are employed by East India Company, never mind those in the
civilian branches of the business. Any of them could have had
family there. And, of course, there are many other businessmen who
have moved in as the monopoly has been curtailed.”

“I will count on our British tendency
to socialize with members of our own class. Once she’s introduced
to the correct circle, someone might recognize her.”

Acton sent another glance in Sophy’s
direction. “I suggest you take your time, Captain. You yourself
mentioned of her inability to remember who she is. Let her find her
footing first.”

Edward would give her all the time in
the world, if he could trust his own desire for her. He should
never have kissed her.

“We have spoken of this at length on
our voyages. And I know we have quite similar views on the damages
that accompany this zeal for wealth from foreign exploitation. I
should be more fearful of the jackals of our own class than any
so-called savage.” Acton lowered his voice. “And having spent some
time in India, I have seen how so many of our countrymen live
there. They believe themselves to be above God and country, and
they will do anything to make a profit. Don’t throw her,
unprotected, into such company. Don’t risk this precious gem in
such hands.”

CHAPTER 16

The ghost was back.

It was already dark outside when they
left Regent Street. There, among the people by the carriage, Sophy
saw her. It was obvious that no one else could see her. In fact,
there were more than a few who walked right through her. The young
spirit simply stood watching her, making no gestures, saying
nothing, her attention focused solely on Sophy.

The same thing happened later, when
they stopped at a nearby chophouse for dinner. The captain was lost
in thought for most of the meal, and Sophy was distracted, as well.
She could not miss the apparition standing by the great open
fireplace. The young woman was making her presence known to her,
waiting for the opportunity to catch Sophy alone. Such attentions
did nothing for an appetite.

Inside the carriage, on their way to
Soho, Captain Seymour was again silent for most of the journey,
speaking up only when she saw that they were nearing her
neighborhood.