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Authors: C. J. Archer

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical

BOOK: Possession
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"And you
know my daughter, of course."

"Of course.
How are you, Miss Beaufort?"

Adelaide said
nothing but eyed him up and down then circled him twice, her hands behind her
back, her bottom lip protruding like a shelf.

Wallace coughed
into his hand and glanced at his mother. She lifted one shoulder.

Lady Preston
looked mortified. "Adelaide," she said oh-so-politely, "perhaps
you should sit. You haven't been well, remember?
Remember?
"

Adelaide paused
and pressed a hand to her head. "Yes, I remember," she muttered and
sank onto the sofa beside her mother. She sat with a rigid back, her ankles
demurely crossed, and stared down at her lap.

"Wallace, ring
the bell. Tea, Lady Preston?" Mrs. Arbuthnot asked as if nothing were
amiss.

"No, thank
you, not today."

Mrs. Arbuthnot
ordered Wallace back and he sat opposite Adelaide on a pretty but narrow chair
that creaked under his weight.

A tall young man
entered. He paused inside the door when he saw us and bowed. "My
apologies, Aunt," he said. "I didn't know you had guests."

Mrs. Arbuthnot
beckoned him with a crook of her finger. "My nephew, Mr. Theodore Hyde. He's
staying with us for a while." She introduced us and Mr. Hyde bowed again,
a warm smile on his lips and a sparkle in his clear gray eyes.

The family
resemblance between the two cousins was evident in the eye and hair color, but
that's where it ended. Theodore was tall and lean while Wallace was shorter and
round. Theodore's face looked like finely worked porcelain, Wallace's resembled
a lump of clay. If the latter was jealous of the former's good looks, he didn't
show it. Indeed, he greeted his cousin eagerly.

"Back from
your walk already, Theo?" To us, Wallace said, "Theo likes to go for
a brisk walk every morning. For fresh air, he says, but I tell him he won't get
fresh air here in London." He laughed and his entire body shook. "He's
from the country." As if that explained it.

Theodore laughed
too and shrugged. "The air here is indeed an acquired taste. It might take
a little more than my first week to get used to it. The exercise does me good,
however, and I will not be put off by a bit of soot." He spoke with the
crisp vowels of the upper classes, but a hint of a country drawl underpinned
his words.

"Where are
you from, Mr. Hyde?" Lady Preston asked.

"Shropshire,
in a lovely part of—"

"My
sister's husband has a small parcel of land in that county," Mrs.
Arbuthnot said over him. "They wanted Theo to broaden his experience and
discover new prospects here in London."

Wallace shifted
uncomfortably in his chair, causing the legs to groan in protest. The only
indication Theodore made that he was hurt by the note of condescension in his
aunt's explanation was to lift his chin a little.

So he was proud.
Proud but poor. I didn't need Mrs. Arbuthnot to tell me that. I'd already
noticed his waistcoat was made of wool, not silk like his cousin's, and his
shoes were worn down at the heel. I suppose it was Mrs. Arbuthnot's way to
politely warn Lady Preston that her daughter shouldn't look at the handsome
nephew when her son, the far better prospect, was in the same room. Not that
Adelaide appeared to notice either man. She still stared at her lap.

"I've
certainly managed to discover a great many things here in London,"
Theodore said. The winning smile had returned to his face, lighting it up,
inviting everyone to join in. It only made Mrs. Arbuthnot's frown deepen. "This
city hums all day and night with activity. There's so much to see and do. It's a
wonder you natives ever sleep!" His gaze swept between Lady Preston and
Adelaide then finally settled on me.

I smiled and was
rewarded with a slight reddening of his cheeks. He quickly looked away, but the
blush deepened. My own face heated.

"This call
is most unexpected, Lady Preston," Mrs. Arbuthnot said. "It is lovely
to have you here, and your daughter. Isn't Miss Beaufort looking exceptionally
well, Wallace?"

"Oh
yes," Wallace said. "Very well indeed."

Theodore glanced
at me and seemed surprised that I was looking at him. I was surprised myself. He
grinned. I grinned back.

"Our call
isn't entirely social," Lady Preston said. "We have a rather unusual
question to ask you, Mr. Arbuthnot. It's regarding my son's...death." I
wanted to applaud her for her courage. A little more than a week ago she wouldn't
have admitted her son was dead and now she was even saying it out loud.

Nothing can put
a dampener on a social call like a discussion about mortality. Mrs. Arbuthnot
shifted and resettled her bulk. Wallace tugged at his cuffs. Theodore gave her
his full sympathetic attention. "I see," Wallace said. He glanced at
Adelaide, but she hadn't removed her gaze from her lap. He breathed out and one
of his waistcoat buttons popped open. His stomach surged through the gap. "I
am happy to assist you in any way I can," he said, earnestly. "Has
there been any news from the investigators?"

Lady Preston
paused before answering. "Some news has come to light, yes." She
indicated me. "Miss Chambers has some questions she'd like to ask you
regarding my son's Oxford days."

Mrs. Arbuthnot, Wallace,
and Theodore all looked to me with renewed curiosity. "Miss Chambers is an
investigator?" Wallace asked.

I quite liked the
sound of that, so I nodded.

"Oh." Mrs.
Arbuthnot's mouth turned down and her nose wrinkled up. To her class, an
investigator was involved in a trade of the lowest kind, worse than a shopkeeper
or clerk. Whether investigators were above or below spirit mediums on the
social scale was anyone's guess.

"I would
have thought you a little young to be an investigator, Miss Chambers," Wallace
said.

"She's very
good," Lady Preston said quickly.

"Oh no, I
did not mean to imply she wasn't." Poor Wallace colored to the roots of
his hair. "My sincere apologies, Miss Chambers. Now please, tell me how I can
help. I'm eager to do what I can to uncover the circumstances surrounding poor
old Jacob's demise. Good chap, he was." He turned wistful. "The
best."

"Theodore,"
Mrs. Arbuthnot said, "be a dear boy and fetch Jenkins for tea."

He rose just as Jacob
appeared behind the sofa where his mother and sister sat. Pleasure made me a
little dizzy. I needed him, not only to help question Wallace, but to tell me
if something had indeed taken over Adelaide's body. She seemed meek but for how
long?

"Ask him
about Frederick," he said. No "How do you do?" or "Is
everything all right?" In fact, he didn't even look at me at all. He did,
however, notice Theodore leaving the room. "Who's he?"

I couldn't
answer him of course. "We've managed to connect Jacob's death to a boy who
might have known him at Oxford," I said.

"Good
grief!" Wallace sat forward and another waistcoat button slipped from its
moorings. "Who?"

"A young
man named Frederick, but we don't know his last name. We thought you might."

"Me?"

"We've
heard you were very popular at Oxford."

He swelled and
the final button fell victim, causing his stomach to part the waistcoat like a
curtain. He didn't appear to notice. "I knew a great many people." He
frowned. "Let's see, I can think of a few Fredericks, but only two were in
our year."

"Have any
of them died?"

"Well, yes,
as a matter—"

Adelaide
snorted, cutting off his answer. "Where'd the other one go?" She no
longer gazed at her lap but fixed a rather derisive glare on Wallace complete
with a curl of her top lip. "You'll have to do," she said in that
grating voice I suspected wasn't her own. A chill rippled down my spine.

"Pardon?"
Wallace said.

"Adelaide?"
Lady Preston touched her daughter's hand, but Adelaide shook her off and stood.

Jacob and I
exchanged glances. "What's going on?" he said.

"She's not
well," I said.

"That's it,
of course," Lady Preston agreed. She must have thought I was offering an
excuse to our hosts.

"Of
course," Mrs. Arbuthnot echoed unconvincingly.

"Unwell? In
what way?" Jacob watched his sister stalk across the room. She paused in
front of Wallace, gripped his shoulder and squeezed.

"Ow!" Wallace
jerked away and rose. "Miss Beaufort, I—"

"Weak,"
she said, "but you'll do."

"Emily."
The sharpness of Jacob's tone drew me to my feet. He strode toward Wallace and
Adelaide amidst protests and pleas from Lady Preston to her daughter. "Emily,
something's wrong," he said.

"Adelaide,"
I said with false cheerfulness, "we must go now."

She ignored me
as a rush of air whipped at her drab brown skirt and teased her hair. With a small
cry, she stumbled back. I steadied her and directed her to sit on the sofa
again. Jacob knelt in front of her, utter anguish imprinted on every feature.

"Adelaide!"
Lady Preston cried. "Dear Lord, not you too. Addie!"

"I'm all
right, Mother," Adelaide said weakly, sitting up straighter. "I
feel...better."

"Same
here," said Wallace in a voice much coarser and deeper than his own. Oh
God, no. No, no, no. Whatever had been in Adelaide must have moved to him.

"Were you
feeling unwell too?" Mrs. Arbuthnot asked her son. "You should have
said—"

"Shut up,
you fat sow." That got everyone's attention. Mrs. Arbuthnot made a choking
noise and pressed a hand to her mouth. Adelaide, Lady Preston, Jacob, and I
simply stared at Wallace. He patted his round stomach, protruding from the
waistcoat, and belched. "No more bloody stays," he said. "Weaker
too. Easier."

"Who are
you?" Jacob asked, approaching carefully. "Get out of my friend's
body."

But Wallace made
no indication that he'd heard him or could see him. "Good fortune and good
health to you all, I'm off to have some fun." He grabbed a pretty blue and
white vase from a table near the door and tipped the flowers and water onto the
carpet. He tossed the vase from hand to hand then tucked it under his arm with
a satisfied nod.

"Wallace Arbuthnot!"
his mother boomed. Her voice was so loud and so unlike her softly solicitous one
of earlier I worried something had taken over her body too, but then she
apologized profusely to her guests and I suspected she was merely upset at her
son's behavior. And with good reason. For a gentleman like Wallace to be so
rude in the presence of ladies was sheer madness.

"I,
uh..." Lady Preston, still grasping Adelaide's hand, stared at the door.

"I'd better
follow him," Jacob said. "Something is very wrong." He vanished.

Theodore
returned, glancing over his shoulder. "Is my cousin all right?"

"Ummmm..."
Mrs. Arbuthnot pressed a hand to her enormous bosom and stared after her son.

"Aunt?"

No one answered
him, so I said, "Mr. Arbuthnot is going for a walk. For fresh air."

Theodore didn't
look like he believed me.

"We'll
return at a more convenient time." I lowered my voice. "Mrs. Arbuthnot,
I'm sure you understand the need to keep the particulars of this visit quiet."
She turned to me, shock still evident in her wide eyes and slack jaw. "We
wouldn't want any unkind words spread about either Mr. Arbuthnot
or
Adelaide considering they are both...ill."

"Ill?"
Theodore spoke cautiously, carefully. "My cousin wasn't ill when I left. What
happened here?"

"Your aunt
will explain," I said breezily.

Adelaide gave a
little whimper and her mother helped her to her feet. They were both as white
as fresh snow.

"Yes,"
Mrs. Arbuthnot said, rubbing the head of her cane. "Yes, of course." She
shouted for her butler and he scurried in. By the uncertain look on his face, I
expect he must have met Wallace in the hall. "See Lady Preston, Miss
Beaufort, and Miss Chambers out."

"Miss
Chambers?" Theodore took my elbow. He looked confused, concerned, and I
wished I could tell him the truth. But I didn't want to alarm him or his aunt,
and I wasn't entirely sure what the truth was anyway. "If there's anything
I can do to help, anything at all, please let me know."

I thanked him. We
left the house and climbed into the waiting coach. The footman closed the door
and all three of us emitted deep, grateful sighs.

"What
happened in there?" Adelaide asked. Her voice trembled as much as she did.

Lady Preston's
arm circled her shoulders. "Nothing, dear. Absolutely nothing." Her gaze
connected with mine and I nodded slightly. If she wanted to shield her daughter
from the truth, then I was happy to go along with the scheme.

Except...what
had
happened?

Jacob winked
into existence beside me. I went to touch his hand, resting on the seat between
us, but he shifted away. So it was still like that, was it? All business. Very
well. I could switch off my emotions too. I could.

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