Gene of Isis (4 page)

And so it was that I met the most important influence on my young life.

‘It is an honour…’ I attempted to raise myself, but could not.

‘Relax, my dear Miss Granville.’ There was a trace of some European accent in her velvet voice. ‘You have had a
big
day.’

‘But I have so much I want to ask you,’ I appealed. ‘The late Damian Cavandish told me that you were the greatest psychic on the Continent.’

My claim drew laughter from the Dowager Countess. ‘What a delight you are, child,’ she said, and clasped her hands over her heart.

‘It’s true,’ I insisted. ‘He said that you were to be my tutor.’

The Dowager Countess Cavandish suppressed her delight. ‘Would that please you?’

‘It would be a dream come true, but—’ I looked at Nanny Beat.

‘Your servant would remain in your service, of course.’ The countess addressed our unspoken fear. ‘You would both have to move to Neith Manor, the Cavandish estate in Dumfries, of course. My nephew has persuaded me against returning to Europe, and has offered me our Dumfries residence to attend to the education of his daughter, Miss
Susan Cavandish. In gratitude for your service, Lord Cavandish wishes to offer you the same education as his own daughter, who is only a year younger than yourself.’

Another child my own age to associate with! I could hardly contain my delight. When I further considered the Dowager Countess’ credentials, I could not believe fortune would favour me so. ‘Papa will never agree.’

‘Miss Granville, our meeting is no coincidence,’ the lady told me. ‘Rest your troubled mind, child…leave the convincing to me.’

As I suspected, Father would not accept Lord Cavandish’s gift, even at the risk of offending the earl. Besides being an expert in psychic learning, the Dowager Countess Cavandish knew Greek, Latin, French, Italian and even a little Hebrew. She was knowledgeable in mathematics, history, natural sciences and geography and she was very cultured when it came to the social graces such as dancing and music, both vocal and instrumental. Not to mention that she was a damn fine shot, although the Dowager Countess Cavandish preferred to hunt game than fox. Under different circumstances my father would have paid handsomely for such a private tutor for his daughter, but he was a stubborn man.

Once I had returned home to Suffolk, however, the Dowager Countess Cavandish and the Earl of Derby visited our manor to appeal my father’s decision. As fate would have it, Constable Forester arrived that same day to report to my father the findings of his investigation. As Father’s guests had been intimately involved with the incident, it
seemed fitting that they remain present to hear the constable’s brief.

‘It is the opinion of our undertaker that all the wounds suffered by Dr Rosen were so angled as to have been self-inflicted,’ Forester said. ‘Dr Rosen’s personal physician confirmed that the old man was indeed dying. As the surgery tower is guarded and alternative access is impossible, we are satisfied with the Honourable Miss Granville’s account of the facts. We find suicide is the probable cause of death in this instance. The case is now closed, and I shall take up no more of your time. I bid you all a good day.’ The constable retreated to the door.

‘One moment, Constable Forester.’ The Dowager Countess Cavandish stood up to pursue the conversation, causing the gentlemen in her company to also rise to their feet. ‘What is being done to investigate the
cause
of Dr Rosen’s suicide?’

The constable drew a deep breath; he’d obviously hoped to avoid that topic. ‘In order to exhume a body I must first have the family’s permission. I do not feel it proper to add to the grief of these families by explaining that we suspect their child was indecently abused and murdered! The doctor can do no more harm, so I think it better that this case is closed.’

All at once, there was knocking coming from everywhere: the walls, furniture, windows and floor. An invisible angry mob had stormed the room and their protest was deafening. The twin doors to the sitting room burst open wide and I stood motionless in the hall. The hammering stopped dead.

‘You tell them!’ I demanded of the constable, storming into the room to argue against his decision. ‘You tell those lords and ladies that they
abandoned their problem children to an existence of torment!’ I was bordering on the hysterical. I couldn’t control the angry words spouting from my mouth. ‘You tell them how their children were raped and murdered by that disgusting pervert! Their deaths were never questioned, only welcomed by all involved.’

My father didn’t care what I’d been through; he wasn’t going to tolerate such vulgar talk from his daughter. ‘That’s quite enough!’ He grabbed my shoulder, only to receive an electric shock upon contact, which cast him clear across the room.

‘What the…?’ Constable Forester backed away from me as I turned my wrathful gaze back to him.

‘Miss Granville, you are being used,’ Lady Cavandish intervened. ‘Serving as a psychic channel can be most beneficial to others, but it is hardly a worthwhile practice if the service proves to be to your own detriment. You have done all you can for these children—’

‘No, the truth will be buried!’ I protested.

‘If the constable does not see fit to investigate, then you and I shall write an article to every major publication in the country, advising them of the whole affair.’ The countess glanced at the constable to note whether he was concerned at the threat. ‘But I shall only assist these children if they first agree to vacate your presence and leave you in peace. They may pester me, if they so wish,’ she concluded with a smile, which I eventually returned.

Waves of energy began to disperse from my body, one for every child, and these could only have been seen by the naked eye as wee bursts of air that left my hair and clothes billowing. As the last of the
entities departed my form I felt substantially weakened. My knees went from beneath me and I collapsed to the floor.

Lord Cavandish, having assisted my father back to his feet, quickly came forward to scoop my body up and place it on the lounge. I hadn’t blacked out, but I allowed my eyelids to droop so that the adults would not think me conscious enough to overhear their discussion.

‘So,’ Lady Cavandish queried Forester, ‘what are your intentions, constable? Are you going to pursue this matter, or shall I?’

‘Perhaps suicide was a rather hasty diagnosis, judging from what I have just witnessed,’ Forester retorted. Lord Cavandish did not take kindly to the constable’s inference.

‘Are you implying that this extraordinary young woman was responsible for Dr Rosen’s death?’ The lord approached the constable to obtain an answer.

‘All things considered, I must concede the possibility,’ Forester affirmed.

‘If you choose to take that route, when the road to justice is so clearly laid out before you, then I assure you that I shall take this matter straight to His Majesty, the King! So, you had best make sure that you have your facts in order.’

The constable found it hard to keep the grin from his face, for King George IV was notorious for shirking his royal duty in favour of drink and women, and was immensely unpopular in the House of Lords. ‘I feel sure His Royal Highness would not concern himself with such an obscure matter as this.’ The constable let the lord know he was not to be bullied.

‘Think again,’ Lord Cavandish snapped. ‘There is nothing His Majesty abhors more than injustice
and bloodshed! And I can assure you, Constable Forester, that His Highness will not take kindly to learning that an investigation into the horrid deaths of so many innocents has been neglected in favour of the persecution of yet another innocent!’

‘There is a very simple way to resolve whether or not this investigation is worth pursuing.’ Countess Cavandish stepped in to avert the unpleasantness. ‘Have you spoken with the other children at the asylum who were in Dr Rosen’s care?’

‘Those children are in an asylum for a reason,’ the constable pointed out. ‘Their testimonies are hardly permissible.’

‘You already know the simple truth of the matter and still you would ignore it.’

‘There is nothing simple about the truth of this matter.’ The constable was determined to get his own way. ‘The only chance I see to ensure that the Honourable Miss Granville is not implicated in the murder of Dr Rosen is if this case remains
closed.’

‘Agreed.’ My father was fed up with the entire affair. What other people chose to do with their offspring was entirely their business and not his burden to bear. ‘I thank you for taking the time to deliver your findings to this house, Constable Forester.’

The constable nodded to confirm they had an understanding. ‘I shall see myself out. Good day.’

‘Oh, my god! This is so tragic.’ Susan sat on my bed, her attention absorbed in one of my old diaries. ‘So the whole ugly affair was just forgotten?’

‘Correct,’ I replied, not looking up from my study of an old Latin text on nature spirits and fairy lore. I was hoping to gain some insight into how to make contact with the elemental kingdoms of nature, an area of psychic study that was grossly lacking in documentation.

This was an area that Lady Charlotte had never researched in depth, so she could not advise me. She claimed this was a practice for the highly adept, as the elements of nature were not easily befriended and were renowned mischief-makers if not properly handled. They also detested most adult human beings for their destruction of nature, their bad habits and their erratic emotions.

Lady Charlotte suggested I might fare better with my investigations. She was rather fond of wine and red meat and she thought this was why she had never been able to attract any of the spirits of nature. I preferred tea, or just boiled water; I ate red meat on rare occasions, such as when the fish were not biting.

Susan had been quiet while she pondered what she read, then said, ‘Well, if this incident changed Lord Granville’s mind about Great Aunt Charlotte being your tutor, then some good came of it. I cannot imagine how bored I would have been these past ten years had I not had you to share my education.’

I broke from my reading to smile at Susan. She was my best, and only, friend of my own age and I completely shared her sentiment.

‘Still, those poor little souls.’ The knowledge weighed on her heart which was one of the sincerest and kindest I had ever known. ‘Is there no justice in this world?’

‘Some,’ I assured. ‘Lady Charlotte held a séance and assisted those lost souls to leave their tormented existence on this earthly plane and cross over into the celestial world where they could finally find peace.’

‘So was it the electric shock that changed Lord Granville’s mind about your education with my Great Aunt?’ Susan was a girl with a lust for detail.

I nodded. ‘The thought of having to deal with my psychic outbursts on a regular basis was just too much for papa to cope with. He was petrified that I would ruin his career and reputation. And Lady Charlotte pointed out that an untrained psychic was an open channel that allowed anything to pour through, so I would be far more troublesome in a state of ignorance than if I was trained to control my abilities. Father relented and accepted Lord Cavandish’s gift.’

Before we’d even met I had secured Susan’s undying devotion for saving her life and the lives of her entire family. And, although I felt that this debt
had been repaid when Lord Cavandish had saved me from the asylum, the Cavandishs’ gratitude to me had never waned.

Susan closed the diary and gave a great sigh. ‘I wish I had some of your talent.’

‘No, you don’t,’ I insisted. ‘Clairvoyance generally leads one into dark and scary places, Susan, and you can’t even bear walking to the kitchen in the dark!’ I laughed as she gasped at the insult.

‘That’s not true.’ Susan sat upright to protest. ‘It’s the rats that bother me, not the dark.’

She was so easy to bait. I smiled at her. ‘There are far scarier beasts in the world than rats.’

‘So it would seem.’ Susan placed the diary aside, as Nanny Beat knocked and entered.

‘Her ladyship would like to see you both in her drawing room,’ she announced.

‘Thank you, Nanny,’ we both said and she withdrew.

It was unusual to be summoned at this time in the evening. Susan and I were usually at leisure, and as the Dowager Countess Cavandish was not getting any younger, she retired early most nights.

Susan looked at me, an air of excitement in her expression. ‘Maybe this is it.’

The ‘it’ Susan referred to was the season’s social calendar—or, more to the point, having a social calendar. Susan had just turned seventeen, and my eighteenth was fast approaching. I had convinced my tutor and my parents to delay my social ‘coming out’ for a year until Susan had come of age and we could face the marriage market together.

The marriage market was a round of balls, dances, dinner parties, breakfasts and similar festive
affairs, during which a young woman was presented to society for the sole purpose of catching herself an eligible young man to marry. Personally, I was disgusted by the whole idea. I had no desire to join this marketplace. I liked my girlish clothes, being ignored by adults and being too young to be expected to attend social affairs. All that was about to change, and after years of being able to be honest and forthright about my opinions and theories, it would be back to playing social games and biting my tongue.

‘Aren’t you excited?’ Susan interlocked her arm with mine and gave it a squeeze as we proceeded to Lady Charlotte’s withdrawing room. ‘Finally, we can show cleavage!’

‘Actually,’ I confessed, ‘I’d much prefer a nun’s habit and a convent, if it didn’t mean dedicating my life to the ridiculous doctrines of the church.’

‘Shh,’ Susan giggled, vigilantly trying to keep my loose tongue out of trouble. ‘This will be far more fun if you leave the church out of it.’

My worst fears were realised when Lady Charlotte informed me she had received a letter from my father, requesting that I join him at our London residence in St James after the Easter holiday season.

Lord Granville, having no male heir, was eager to see me wed. He hoped that I might produce a grandson to whom he could bequeath his peerage, rather than see it pass to whoever I decided to marry. I was the last living relative of my father’s line and he resented that the Granville name would no longer be attached to his estates once he died—whether I produced a male heir or not. Still, my
inheritance did make me an attractive candidate for marriage and my father would most likely be indebted to anyone who took me off his hands and would warmly welcome them into the family.

Susan would also be travelling to London to stay at the Earl of Derby’s house on Mayfair, opposite Hyde Park. We were not at all excited by the prospect of being separated, having lived in each other’s pockets for ten years, though Susan was too excited by the event of entering society to allow our imminent separation to dampen her mood. She swore that we would visit each other every day, attend all the same grand social occasions and, of course, go shopping. I was not an enthusiastic shopper, but I did delight in witnessing the enjoyment Susan derived from the exercise. She was far more aware of the latest fashions than I, and if it were not for my dear friend’s good taste, I would have dressed in the fashions of the previous decade.

‘To mark the grand occasion of your coming out into society,’ Lady Charlotte added, ‘my dear nephew, the Earl of Derby, has kindly invited us all to his estate in the Midlands, where he intends to hold balls, dances and dinner parties in your honour. This will give you both an opportunity to exercise your social skills in the ease of the country before your introduction to London society and court.’

‘How exciting, Ashlee.’ Susan gripped my hand tight. ‘Only one more month of isolation! And there’s so much preparation to be done.’

So much indeed,
I thought. I only had a month to access the extensive library here at the earl’s manor in Dumfries.

The library was the reason this manor had been chosen as the best place for Susan’s education,
and hence my own. Lady Charlotte had also shipped over her collection of rare esoteric books from her residence in Paris. The lady had collected this treasury of works during her time on the Continent and as many were banned here in England, they were priceless to me. I would mourn Scotland terribly.

Lady Charlotte excused Susan and asked me to stay and speak with her a moment.

‘I’m going to start working on some sketches for the dressmakers!’ Susan fancied herself as a fashion designer, and she had been closely following the adult fashions for some years now, so I felt sure I could rely on her good taste to make me look the part when the big event arrived. ‘I have everything in hand,’ she said as she kissed me goodnight, curtseyed to Lady Charlotte and withdrew to her room.

‘I realise this news is not as thrilling for you as it is for my dear Susan.’ Lady Charlotte reached for her wine glass. ‘And that the social adjustment will not be as effortless.’ Her pale blue eyes turned back to me. ‘Yet you have exceeded my expectations as a student, Miss Granville. Your aptitude for languages and all academic endeavours would rival any daughter of royal blood. Your grasp of the social graces will, and
must,
conceal your additional talents, just as I promised your father ten years ago.’

‘I would never disgrace you, Lady Charlotte, or the good name of the Cavandish family, who have been so generous to me,’ I assured her. It was a great honour for me to be on such intimate terms with the Dowager Countess Cavandish, for she insisted that in private I should use her name. ‘I know what is expected of me. I shall do my utmost to uphold your standards and excellent tuition.’

She smiled a knowing smile that conveyed her great affection for me. ‘I know you shall, child. I hold no fear on that account. I would not even raise this issue with you if I did not know from my own experience how difficult and frustrating such concealment can be. You will become aware of injustice that you cannot correct without exposure to ridicule and ruin; souls you cannot aid without risk to your reputation; beings and entities you must ignore to save ending up in an asylum for the rest of your days. More than most women, your knowledge will be a prison to you, I fear.’

The lady’s eyes had drifted to the fireplace, and there seemed a great sadness in her countenance, or was it empathy for the trying times I had ahead of me? ‘Perhaps I shall one day have the good fortune to be an independently wealthy widow, like you, Lady Charlotte.’

The countess responded to my suggestion with a slight laugh, which caught in her throat and caused her to cough. She steadied herself. ‘My greatest wish for you, my dear, is that you find a kindred spirit to take for a husband and have a deep and lasting love for the rest of your days. For I was not relieved to be widowed, nor shall I ever regret my choice of husband.’

‘Forgive my presumption. I meant no disrespect—’

‘I know you did not.’ She held up a hand to silence my apology. ‘You have the great advantage to be capable of discerning a good soul at a glance. I pray that you use your gift to secure yourself the greatest happiness.’

‘And so I shall, Lady Charlotte.’ I smiled warmly to make light of her fears.

At this point the countess was seized by a coughing fit, and I was given my leave of her.

My mind was still mourning my impending departure from Neith Manor as I entered my room, which was dark except for the fire that was keeping the cold at bay. The news of my society debut had caused me to lose my enthusiasm for further study this evening. There seemed little point in lighting a candle, as they were expensive and not to be wasted.

I found myself pondering my mother’s death from consumption many years before and I feared that Lady Charlotte would soon be taken from me in the same manner.

My mother had been very close to death by the time I had made the journey from Scotland to be at her side, but in her delirious state she had told me something that I had long forgotten.

‘Through me you have inherited the royal blood of the Scots,’ she had said. ‘Never forget that, Ashlee.’ To understand why this fact should be foremost in her mind at this vital moment, I held her hand in an attempt to read the thoughts that her condition prevented her from conveying. But her illness and the subsequent pain prevented me from making any sense of her intent without injury to my own physical health in the process.

It surprised me that my father had not taken himself another wife since mama’s death; a young woman might give him a male heir to carry the Granville name. Perhaps he was fearful of rearing another child with my extraordinary talents? A male child would be far more difficult to control, or be rid of.

At this point in time, however, I felt that my bloodline could explain my love of the landscape here in Dumfries, which nearly rivalled my attachment to the library.

‘Perhaps I shall catch myself one of Scotland’s country lords,’ I mused, trying to cheer myself up. ‘Then I could spend the rest of my days in a place such as this and ignore society and its graces.’

But I knew very well that no man of breeding with high social standing would remain in the country all year round. Only late autumn and winter, through to early spring, gave such solace—provided one wasn’t taking up invitations to stay with other people of prominence at
their
country estates!

I wanted to cry, but crying would not change the inevitable.

In the following weeks, I spent much of my time in the library—when I was not practising dance and being drilled on social etiquette. My hunt for every scrap of information relating to nature spirits often kept me up until the wee hours, and it was only the strain of reading by candlelight that would force me to give in and go to bed. Lady Charlotte was gracious enough not to insist that I get my beauty sleep, for she knew how dearly I would miss the library and how the late hours afforded me uninterrupted time to study.

As the day of our leaving for the Midlands drew close, I began to fear that I would never find the information that was eluding me.

Two days before we were to depart Dumfries I happened across a book entitled
Aradia
—
the Gospel of Witches,
an Italian text which referred to
the ‘la vecchia religione’—the old religion. Although prominent in northern Italy today, its origins dated back to the time of the Roman Empire, or perhaps even further back to the Etruscan era.

Apart from its references to the Etruscan gods and their mythology, of which Diana is the goddess, and her daughter Aradia (or Herodius) the Messiah, it also contained invocations to the likes of Bacchus, Jupiter, Venus and Mercury. It also explained how to prepare amulets over which spells could be uttered, and amongst these I was most excited to find ‘the charm of the ringstone’.