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Authors: Megan Chance

The Spiritualist (21 page)

BOOK: The Spiritualist
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I felt the tension as we all waited. I heard hushed breathing, the faint rustle of silk. Michel’s hand tightened on mine; I felt his sudden rigidity in the moment before Sarah burst out, “Is there a spirit here?”

“I am here,” Michel said, and I was surprised that it wasn’t Peter’s voice he’d chosen, but one soft and light, not that of a grown man, but of a child.

“Atherton?” Dudley asked. “Is this the spirit of Peter Atherton who speaks through Jourdain?”

“I miss you, Mama.”

Dorothy gasped. “Johnny!” she called out; it was almost a sob. “Johnny, my dear, dear boy, how glad I am you’re here. What do you say tonight, my son?”

“You must take better care of yourself, Mama. As much as I want to have you with me, there are still things on earth you must do.”

“Yes, yes,” she said eagerly. “I’m doing them, just as you said.”

“I know. May I touch you again, Mama? Upon your shoulder? I miss you so.”

“Of course, of course.” Dorothy was like an excited girl; her need and pleasure were embarrassingly transparent. She waited, and then after a moment she seemed to sag beneath a touch only she could feel. “Oh, Johnny… Is Everett there? Is he with you?”

Whatever lassitude the liqueur had inspired in me disappeared. The obviousness of Michel’s manipulation annoyed me, for the way he fooled her was almost pathetic in its simplicity. Michel said, “I must go, Mama. There’re other spirits here, waiting to talk.”

“Atherton?” Jacob Colville spoke. “Is Peter Atherton’s spirit among you?”

There was a pause, but the rigidity in Michel’s body did not ease. His thigh, beneath the table, pressed closer, into my skirts, moving with me even as I instinctively moved away. “Peter’s spirit is not yet strong,” he said, still in the youthful voice of Johnny Bennett. “He will come to Michel in dreams—”

“For God’s sake, he comes to
me
in dreams,” I burst out, impatient at his lack of deftness. “That’s hardly enough.”

The moment I said it, I knew I’d erred. I felt their sudden attention, their confusion and surprise. And betrayal too, from somewhere, I felt betrayal. The cacophony was so startling and strange that I was bewildered. When Benjamin asked quietly, “What did you say?” I felt Michel’s sudden absence. He sagged, as if the spirit of Johnny Bennett had been physically holding him upright; his fingers went lax upon mine.

“Turn up the lights!” Grace called in a high, nervous voice. “Look at Michel—the spirits are gone.”

He had collapsed; his head lolled on the table like one asleep. Robert Dudley loosed my hand to rush to him. Dudley grabbed Michel’s shoulders, pulling him back against the chair. Sarah ran to turn up the lights—one by one they went bright, but Michel did not rouse, and the tension in the room did not abate. Slowly, I realized they were all staring at me.

“What is it?” I asked. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

Jacob Colville roused, as if he’d just been awakened from a deep sleep. “Did you say Peter came to you in dreams, Evelyn?”

“I’m simply pointing out—”

“How does Peter’s spirit manifest itself?”

“It isn’t like that.” I looked at Benjamin, who was frowning. “It’s more like… nightmares.”

“What happens in these nightmares?” Grace asked.

I glanced at her in confusion. “I dream I’m in the circle and then I hear Peter’s voice. Or sometimes, it seems I’m awake, and he’s there beside me. But I’m really asleep.”

“But those aren’t just nightmares, Evie, surely you see that? Why, Peter’s been communicating with you all this time and you never said a word!”

“Because they’re only—”

“What does he say?”

“Nothing. He says nothing. ‘Find the truth. Don’t believe him’
. . . 
Things like that.”

“Find the truth?” Grace repeated.

“It doesn’t really make sense, like all dreams. Nothing really means anything.”

“Few mediums believe in their gift at the start,” Dorothy said. “Even Michel didn’t. But once you’re called, there’s no turning back.”

“Once I’m—” I stared at her in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

Slowly, Robert Dudley straightened, lifting his hands from Michel’s shoulders. “How wonderful! We’ve another medium in our midst.”

Wilson Maull said, “Good God.”

I was incredulous. “What?”

“You’ve been called, Evelyn dear,” Grace said. “The spirit said Peter would come to Michel in dreams, but he’s already visited you—it seems clear he’s chosen the medium he wishes to communicate through.”

“Perhaps we should be cautious here,” Ben said.

“What’s there to be cautious about?” Dorothy asked sharply. There was a light in her eyes—the same kind of light I’d seen when she looked at Michel. Except this time, she was looking at me, and I felt a strange stir in my stomach. “The spirits have spoken. They’ve called Evelyn to attend to their mission. She’s no choice in the matter.”

Beside me, Michel stirred. He lifted his head, blinking, and said, “They’re gone.”

“Yes, yes, we know,” Dudley said excitedly. “But they’ve left us something very valuable. They’ve left us a fledgling medium.”

Michel frowned, as if he were confused.

Grace’s sallow face was almost pretty in its animation as she said, “Peter’s spirit’s been visiting Evie in dreams. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Michel turned slowly to me.

“We can develop her! What a gift we’ve been given!” Grace said.

I glanced again at Dorothy. She was smiling, and I realized suddenly that this was my opportunity. I had wanted to guarantee that Michel could not dislodge me, and the way had fallen into my hands.

Slowly I said, “Do you really think so?”

“Evelyn,” Ben said sharply. “Don’t be absurd.”

“Ben, how can you not see? Look around you—why, look at Dorothy. We’ve been invigorated—can you doubt the truth of it?”

I saw the protest jump to his lips, and I tried to warn him with my eyes. His gaze went to Dorothy, as I’d intended. I knew he was seeing the rapturous excitement in her, and I was almost giddy as he turned back to me and said reluctantly, “Are you certain? Isn’t it possible we’re misinterpreting this?”

“The signs are all here,” Sarah said. “Peter told us you had nightmares, Evelyn.”

Dudley said, “Why, the spirits have been urging your development for some time!”

“Or perhaps not.” Michel’s voice was soft. “Perhaps they’re only nightmares.”

“But what of her father’s visit?” Dorothy asked. “Why, he was here at our last circle.”

“Was he?” Ben asked. He looked at me. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“I’d forgotten it in all the other… excitement,” I said.

Sarah said, “Michel, you’re the expert. How shall we develop Evelyn? What should we do?”

Michel put his fingers to his temple. “I don’t know. My strength…”

“He’s overtired, poor boy.” Dorothy turned to her nurses, calling, “Fetch him some sherry!”

“You must give us a plan when you’ve recovered yourself,” Robert said. “Who else but you can help us?”

“I’m no expert at developing others,” Michel snapped—an uncharacteristic loss of control. I had to hide my smile.

“Please, let him rest. We mustn’t ask more of him just now. Tomorrow will be soon enough,” Dorothy said.

One of the nurses brought Michel a glass of sherry, which he swallowed in a single gulp.

“Yes, tomorrow. Perhaps we should meet again then,” Jacob said.

“Perhaps.” Michel set the glass onto the table hard enough that I felt its vibration through the polished wood. “Or perhaps tomorrow will bring us some other wisdom, eh?”

Dudley said, “I could talk to Mrs. Hardinge at the New York Conference. She’s such an accomplished medium herself, she may have some insight for us.”

“And the
Spiritual Telegraph
, darling,” Grace said. “Remember? Last spring, there was a piece on developing mediums. If I could remember where I put it…”

Michel coughed. It was nothing at first, but as he felt for his handkerchief it grew stronger, doubling him over, and Dudley fumbled anxiously for his own handkerchief and handed it to Michel, who pressed it to his mouth. His eyes were watering from the force of the attack.

Dorothy tried to rise, and then sank again helplessly into her chair. Anxiously, she said, “He should go to bed. Charley! Charley, for God’s sake help him.”

The nurse with the curling hair hurried toward Michel, but the moment he put his hand on Michel’s shoulder, Michel waved him away almost violently.

“Good God, man, is there nothing you can take?” Jacob asked.

Finally, the coughing eased. I heard the wretchedness of Michel’s breathing as he tried to regain himself. When he looked up again, his face was red, fading quickly to a frightening pallor. He crumpled Dudley’s handkerchief into his hand. “You don’t mind?” he asked weakly, holding it out for a moment before he shoved it into a pocket.

“No, of course not. Keep it,” Dudley said.

Michel pulled himself from the chair. “I am overtired.” His voice was hardly there. “I’ll retire, if you’ll excuse me.”

We all made the appropriate sounds of dismay. Michel walked slowly to where Dorothy sat. He leaned over her, whispering something in her ear. She had looked desperate and afraid, but whatever he said seemed to reassure her. She reached up, cupping her hand to his cheek as a lover might, and he kissed her upon the top of her head and straightened again. Then he left us.

Dorothy herself left quickly after that, and the others lingered only a few moments before they too made their departure. Only Benjamin remained, and as I showed him to the door, he glanced warily up the stairs and said in a quiet voice, “What are you thinking?”

Before I could answer, he drew me aside, from the hallway into the parlor, which was dark but for the embers burning low in the fireplace. The light from the hallway glanced upon his face.

Excitedly, I turned to him. “Did you see the way Dorothy looked when Robert said I’d been called? She was delighted. I’ve become her personal quest, Ben.”

His expression was still disapproving. “How exactly does that avail us?”

“She believes in all this. Wherever the spirits lead, she’ll want to follow, and now she believes she was meant all along to develop me. She won’t withdraw her support now, no matter how Michel tries to persuade her!”

At last, I saw understanding in Ben’s eyes. “Ah. Very clever, Evie—but for one thing. You do realize that this will put you in close proximity with Jourdain?”

“No closer than I am now—”

“Much closer,” he disagreed. “You heard what the others said: they believe he’s the one who must lead the circle in developing you. My guess is that he’ll agree to do so for Dorothy’s sake, and then try to sabotage you in the process. Are you prepared for that?”

I hadn’t thought of it. Still, I insisted, “I can beat him at this.”

“Can you? These are people, Evie, not pawns. Jourdain won’t like this. He was dangerous before, he’ll be more so now.” Ben took a deep breath. “If he’s willing to seduce an old woman to get what he wants, in how much more danger of seduction is a young and pretty one?”

I was startled. “I hardly think—”

“Don’t assume he won’t try.” Ben raised his hand, as if he might touch me, and then lowered it again. “You’re a courageous woman, but please don’t lose sight of what we’re trying to accomplish here.”

“I will be careful,” I said. “But you must admit that this can only help us. Not just with Dorothy, but in finding out more about what Michel knows.”

“If you can manage him. He’s spent years developing the skills you’ve seen.”

“But I’ve the advantage here. I
know
he’s dangerous. I
know
what he’s capable of. Didn’t I tell you when you arrived this evening that I was afraid he would convince Dorothy to throw me out? Haven’t I already found a way to prevent that?”

Ben looked unconvinced. “You haven’t his skill at deception.”

“I can learn it. You can help me. You’ve been to more circles than I, surely you can guess his tricks easily enough?”

“Yes,” he admitted reluctantly. “I suppose that’s true.”

“And we have so little time. My trial is little more than six weeks away. It will be here before we know it. This is a small risk for what I might gain, Ben. I can do this. You must trust me.”

He exhaled, and then he nodded slowly. “Very well. I dislike putting you in such danger, but I must admit it will secure your position with Dorothy. And if you’re clever enough… But please, Evie, be wary. I’ve grown quite fond of you.”

I smiled at him and touched his arm. “In this game, we’ll be the victors, I promise you. I think we already have him on the defensive. Did you notice? His little coughing spell kept us from setting another date for the circle—and my development.”

Benjamin looked thoughtful. “No doubt there will be many more such maneuvers. And what was that about your father visiting you in a circle? You told me nothing of it.”

“You were in Albany,” I said. “I’d come here to ask questions about Peter, and they were holding a circle. I was persuaded to join them.”

“Jourdain called your father?”

“Just another of his tricks. It hardly seemed worth mentioning. He didn’t fool me, in any case.”

“Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

“There were no other visits. I’d thought I was done with the whole business until now.”

“Well, as I’ve said before, don’t underestimate Jourdain. People see what they want to see, I’ve found. It’s their blindness to their own natures that makes them so easy to fool. Even Peter used to say to me: ‘What about
this
? Surely this can’t be explained!’ But I think it was when Dorothy’s ‘son’ persuaded her to give Michel carte blanche over the servants that Peter began to see the ways Jourdain’s studied how to use others. You’d be wise not to forget it.”

“Oh, I won’t forget,” I said. “Believe me, I won’t.”

“I hope not, Evie.” He cleared his throat. “Now, I fear I must take my leave.” He stepped back into the hallway. I followed him. He took his greatcoat from the hooks behind the stairs, and settled his top hat upon his head. At the door, he paused. His eyes were dark with concern as he turned to me. “The merest word, Evie. Remember that. If you need me, I can be here at a moment’s notice.”

BOOK: The Spiritualist
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