The Double Life of Incorporate Things (Magic Most Foul) (34 page)

“That seems to follow,” I murmured. Miss Templeton said nothing but scribbled with impressive speed, all without taking her eyes off us.

“I’m not sure who was poised to give the order to strike,” Patt said. “But thank goodness no one did.”

“Possibly Stevens, possibly the “Majesty” in England. I wonder if we’ll ever know the time frame they targeted. Do be careful disposing of that, sergeant,” Mrs. Northe said, gesturing to the powder.

“Oh, we will.” Patt assured. “Already had to subdue and sedate several officers who first came in contact with it. Then I remembered the articles.” His round face flushed red again. “And I remembered what you said to me. And I’m sorry for not having taken it more seriously, sooner,” Patt said quietly, looking at me in the apology and then back toward the interior of the office, bewildered. “I just don’t understand how people could be so elaborately diabolical.”

“Some people, a few. Not sane ones,” Mrs. Northe reassured the sergeant. “Unhinged creatures urged on by the negative spirits of all that is horrific about humankind. Demons aren’t corporeal unless imbued with the power to affect human will and conscience. The Master’s Society tried to harness raw evil, congealed it, and sent it unto the world. Those working for them were simply under the influence. And not powerful enough to shirk off the yoke.” Mrs. Northe spoke so eloquently and sensibly she made everything, even the most trying theories, make sense.

Patt furrowed his brow, having difficulty accepting something so vague, so gray in the areas of good and evil, so diffuse. However, to his credit he did not argue.

“Cleaning crews are painstakingly taking care of every site. Is there anything you think we might be missing?” Patt asked, genuinely asking for advice. Miss Templeton seemed just as interested in the recommendation.

“An exorcist. And a medium,” Mrs. Northe replied brightly. “The most important part of the cleaning is all the things you can’t see with
average
sight.” At this, Patt looked very worried. Mrs. Northe smiled. “Never fear, sergeant, I’ll send our friends to you. Reverend Blessing and Miss Horowitz. Now the reverend is a black man, and the medium is a Jewish woman. Both of them are the finest at their trade that I have ever met. So if you or any of your men give them any trouble or various intolerant slurs, I assure you you’ll find trouble again on your doorstep—”

“Understood, Mrs. Northe. I will see to it he is denied nothing and escorted by my finest and most trustworthy.”

“That better be a sound promise. We live in uncomfortably intolerant times, Sergeant Patt.”

“And I’d rather not promote intolerance further, Mrs. Northe, truly,” Patt said with weary earnestness. I remembered some of Father’s scholarly friends discussing the fight for being considered human that most Irish immigrants had faced when arriving upon New York shores. Maybe the cruelty of human bigotry was something he could understand. The ruddy-faced sergeant shook his head. “An exorcist. And a medium. Heaven help us.”

“Heaven most certainly did,” I replied, beaming at the mention of Blessing and my dear friend Rachel who I would be so thrilled to see again, after she’d lent her aid in Chicago. Though I’d not be coming along on any of this reported cleanup. My time with all this was at its blessed end.

“Do keep me apprised, sergeant,” Mrs. Northe said. “And I appreciate your showing us this. The Society has put us all through quite the trial. None so much as our brave Miss Stewart here. If you’re going to finally deign to thank me, she deserves far more thanks than I.”

The sergeant bowed to me. “I can’t say I believe everything I read, Miss Stewart, not at all, but I do believe you must be a very brave young woman, and that’s to be commended.”

I blushed, clutching my diary tighter under my arm, wondering just how many persons had read all my kissing bits. I’d written rather rhapsodically about Jonathon and our first explorations of passions. I hadn’t had time to redact them before the diary had found its way into Father’s hands...

“I’d love to interview you, Miss Stewart, about all you’ve been through,” Miss Templeton said quietly. “I truly value your insight. It would be such a gift.”

I nodded. Something about the woman made me want to trust and confide in her. She was like a younger Mrs. Northe, and I liked the idea of having elegant, elder friends.

“After she becomes Lady Denbury, Clara,” Mrs. Northe said with a chuckle. “Let the poor girl and her poor lord alone for a bit.”

Miss Templeton beamed. “But of course.”

“Dinner, soon, Clara. I don’t know
where
you’ve been keeping yourself of late, but you’d better not forget about us. Rupert’s just not the same when you’re not around. You know I hate it when grown men pout.”

Another engaging sparkle flashed like a flare of flame across her catlike eyes, and she nodded with a prim smile. “Dinner soon, Evelyn. I promise.”

The sergeant walked us out and scowled at his men. No one made any further comments to us. He thanked us again and returned to his precinct offices, darting up the stoop at a clip amusing for his large comportment. I’m quite sure he was glad to be rid of us, even though he was grateful for the information provided. I didn’t blame him. This was bitter medicine to swallow. I knew that better than anyone.

Mrs. Northe and I decided to walk a route through Central Park upon our return. The day was gorgeous; the people strolling under parasols and in top hats were marvelous, the light through the dappled trees that grew taller and fuller every year was resplendent, the park ever a work in progress, represented promise and life. It was the perfect contrast to the sobering threat of the Society we’d bested.

There was a look on Mrs. Northe’s face that didn’t really match with the situation we’d left behind. It was engaged, almost playful. “What?” I asked.

“Miss Templeton. She’s hiding something. She’s good at hiding from minds like mine,” Mrs. Northe said, tapping her temple. “Maybe a lover. Hmm. That would be interesting. I wonder how Rupert will take that.”

“The senator?”

“Yes. I’ve always wondered about them. She’s old enough for emancipation, no longer his ward, exactly, though he’s pledged his life to her it would seem. Yet she hasn’t gone out and gotten a husband…” She stopped short, blushing. “Forgive me, Natalie. I must not gossip. It is unchristian to do so. However, gossiping about people I care for is infinitely more amenable to my mind than all the troubles and grief…”

I knew Maggie would’ve loved the gossip. We were likely thinking the same thing but didn’t dare mention her name. Instead, I turned the tables on Mrs. Northe and dared use a name I’d not yet felt comfortable using. But it was well past time.

“So. Evelyn. Tell me. Are you and Father...”

“We are. We will. Provided you are comfortable. We want to see you through your wedding first.”

“I’m comfortable,” I agreed.

“You called me Evelyn.” She beamed. “That’s a start.”

I tucked my arm in hers and squeezed tight. “I love you,” I murmured. She took my hand and clutched it in both of hers, tucking it toward her heart. I felt a tear splash onto the back of it.

“And I you. From the moment I first met you, I wanted you as my daughter. I knew it had to be. I...I saw this moment. Right here. Walking through the park, my long-lost daughter and me, on a perfect New York afternoon...” She turned away to dab her eyes with a handkerchief. I thought my heart would burst.

“I am the luckiest girl in the whole of this great city,” I murmured. I looked up at the beautiful blue sky and thanked all the forces of light that had gotten me this far by stubborn faith and more blessings than I knew what to do with.

We took the longer route back, arm in arm, me and my mentor and second mother, a bond that had saved my life. I’d like to think I’d saved hers too. At least her heart.

Lavinia came over for tea, sweeping into the Northe parlor in something just as black and dramatic as usual. Something about our earlier bout of gossip and talk of love and lovers made me bold, and so I asked:

“When is Nathaniel going to stop running from the obvious and marry you?”

Lavinia shrugged wistfully. “I’ve no idea. I can’t force him. He is his own beast. A wild creature that will only stop pacing when he wishes. I know he loves me. But I’m not sure what that means to him.”

“With your parents still having cut you off...what will you do?”

“I’ve found work for her,” Mrs. Northe said with a smile.

“Via Senator Bishop,” Lavinia continued excitedly. “He’s associated with an office that quietly looks into paranormal goings-on in the city. They’re selective and
very
secretive. Evidently they had only men as doorkeepers at their office for quite some time. But they all kept falling for the woman in charge, the senator’s ward—”

“Miss Templeton? I just met her.”

“Indeed,” Mrs. Northe added. “It would seem the senator finally got tired of intimidating all the gentlemen doorkeepers, so Lavinia will be a great addition to their little cadre.”

“Especially considering the experiences we’ve had,” Lavinia added. “If you’d like work, I’m sure he’d like to talk to you, although the idea of ‘Lady Denbury’ taking a
job
doesn’t sound quite right,” she said with a wink and a smile.

“Miss Templeton did seem quite interested in talking to me,” I replied. “But I’d prefer not to work in any field we barely survived... After all we’ve been through, I’m surprised you’d want anything to do with anything paranormal.”

She smiled. “Has your time with our club, Her Majesty’s Association of Melancholy Bastards, taught you nothing? We court this sort of intrigue!” She laughed. “No, truly, think about it, my friend. My name is
Lavinia
. A Shakespearean character who, in
Titus Andronicus
, was raped, her tongue cut out, and her hands cut off. No matter that it was a “family name,” I made it my mission in my life that I would not let my name damn me. That I would live loudly and fully. That I would live as dramatically as I please, with no men making decisions for me that I would not make on my own as best I could. To take a job, a position, for a secret office? Something empowering and fascinating? Why, it takes that Shakespearean tragedy and makes it something glorious.”

“Well played, Miss Kent.” Mrs. Northe applauded.

“Indeed, I think it’s lovely, Lavinia. While I go off to be a titled lady,” I said with a grin, “we’ll all have the best of adventures together. Safely away from any demons, haunted paintings, or reanimate corpses.”

“Huzzah to that, my lady. No more of that indeed,” came a familiar British accent lilting off lips I longed to kiss. Jonathon swept into the room with a bouquet of red roses for me. “Come, come, Lady Denbury, shall we house hunt? It’s my favorite kind of quarry, lavish lodgings that can’t run away from my title. Fit for a very pretty girl who can’t run from it, either.”

“As if she’d ever want to,” I murmured, lifting my face so that he’d bend over the settee to kiss me. He did. I jumped to my feet, sliding my arm in his, holding the roses very princess-like in the crook of my other arm. “If you’ll excuse us, ladies...”

Lavinia and Evelyn grinned, shooing us to the door.

As Jonathon and I descended onto Fifth Avenue, the bustle and swarm of New York before us, I had never felt so vibrant. So full of all the possibilities I could make manifest. The life and family I would lead and create. Mother’s causes I would soon take up. All the art I would buy for Father’s beloved Metropolitan Museum. The clinics I would help Jonathon open.

For all that the “Majesties” had wanted to take from society, we would do all the more to lift it up and serve the world with love. With the second chances we’d been given. With the lives we were lucky enough to still live.

I stared out at my beloved city and promised I would live to the fullest all that our infinite blessings dictated. For all that my beloved Jonathon and I had seen of tragedy, of darkness, of the double life of solid and shade, we were all the better equipped to shine, throughout this life and unto the paths that angels would tread.

From the Desk of Miss Clara Templeton

Internal Director, Eterna Commission, established 1865

Notes
:

Senator Bishop gave me the case of Lord Denbury and Miss Natalie Stewart and the various issues that befell them for consideration.

Though I am not sure what it may have to do with issues of immortality that the Eterna Commission has been charged with examining, I find everything about the Master’s Society to be fascinating. Harrowing, but fascinating. I do not envy all those two young lovers underwent.

I spent quite some time in the sergeant’s office, examining the deeds in the sequence as the inimitable Evelyn suggested. Her clairvoyance never ceases to impress me, and I confess I am envious of the gift.

I believe my office could benefit from similar experiences of the teamwork displayed by the friends drawn into the Society’s sinister web. Though I doubt Miss Stewart or her lord would wish what they lived through upon anyone.

The police, when it comes to many spiritual or inexplicable matters, seem more than happy to let women handle them. While the paranormal does not favor a gender, I do find that more women of this gilded age of ours remain open-minded about the inexplicable, and perhaps in some ways that may make us more vulnerable. We are, after all, the founders and purveyors of Spiritualism.