Darker Still (29 page)

Mrs. Northe smiled her best sister-conspirator smile. “If what I’ve sensed is any indication, you and he will do far more than hold hands in time to come, and I’d hardly begrudge you the contact. My, he is quite breathtaking in person.”

I chuckled. My blush reignited and I wondered what sort of psychic glimpses Mrs. Northe had seen of us. I would have pressed her for details of our future, giddy like a girl at her first ball, had the night not so sobered me.

A new wave of sadness hit me, and I clutched at Mrs. Northe’s arm. “Maggie was there when I arrived. She…somehow stayed on after hours. She drew a pentagram on the floor in chalk and she had a book that I believe came from one of those men you despise—”

Mrs. Northe’s eyes flashed. “The fool,” she hissed. “Forever tampering with what she cannot grasp. Mr. Smith had her marched right to my waiting carriage. I gave her quite the talking-to and threatened her with the histrionic ward. Our friendship might be damaged, that of the three of us, but she knows her mother would kill her if she found out about her little stunt, so I maintain leverage. I will have to ask about that book, though. Here, I’ve a dress I can adjust to fit you. Step in.”

I’d never been in so fine a dress, and when I glimpsed Jonathon awaiting us in the foyer below, looking perhaps more dashing than I’d ever seen him, we smiled broadly at each other. Though tired, he looked as if fresh clothes and fine toiletries had renewed his spirit and made him feel human again after being trapped in his portrait clothes, marred, torn, and unkempt. Before me now was the portrait of the lord whom I wanted forever in my mind. We both stared at one another, drinking in our freshly composed selves, and I do believe he liked what he saw of me as much as I did of him.

In our stares was such relief. It had been as if any time that we weren’t present with the other, we were convinced we knew each other only in the dreams we shared. But here he was, fully in the flesh and still pulling on my heart. What did Mrs. Northe see for us? Would we marry? That’s what people our age did; they found love and married. My heart raced at the thought. No, what was I thinking: he’d have to flee; he was a wanted man. I most certainly couldn’t go on flights of fancy at this time. Most likely, I had to prepare a good-bye. But I loved him…

My heart careened back and forth as we were ushered gently into the sitting room. Mrs. Northe bade us sit side by side so that he could take my trembling hand in his steady one, as I’d hoped.

As we told our tale, Mrs. Northe was patient and grim faced, as if she were reliving it with us and seeing it with her own eyes. Our hands were white from grasping one another too tightly. As our tale came to a close, Jonathon voiced the fresh horror.

“And now, Mrs. Northe, what am I to do? No one knows that demon as Lord Denbury, but Lord Denbury is dead and I wear the face of a killer. I would hope my solicitor was sensible enough to maintain some sort of provision—if I could simply get hold of him without alarming or alerting—”

“Allow me to intervene on your behalf in terms of your estate. As for who may take the fall in your body’s place, I have my ideas. I think we’ll find a dead French artist in your crypt in your stead. I have contacts in London who will find out. But you should, for safety’s sake, go into hiding, not only because of police pursuit but because of evils that may yet seek you out as a vulnerable vessel. Magic will hang about you both. I can see and feel it, a paranormal aura like a perfume that can attract those gruesome muzzles that sniff out the most revolting of odors and pounce like hungry animals…”

Mrs. Northe’s eyes were cold, and in that moment, I wondered if she had seen more darkness in her circles than she cared or dared tell. “Do you have any contacts, Lord Denbury, say, out West—as suitable a place as any to wait out a storm?”

He thought a moment before nodding. “I do. I have a dear friend, a man I’d trust with any life of value. I met him in England at medical lectures. We bonded because we were often the ‘children’ in the room.”

“Then you should go there. There’s no better time in one’s life for good friends than when one has been lifted from the jaws of hell. In the meantime I believe we may implicate Crenfall in this insidious matter. The timing would suit, and he
was
an accomplice. He must be brought to justice, though the real culprit remains trapped in shreds of canvas.”

While I wanted to see Jonathon safe more than anything, the idea of him going away, now that he was real for all of us, was a knife in my heart. I’d dreamed of adventures by his side here, showing him all the glory of this greatest of American cities, of coming out from the shadow of tragedy and into the light of courtship, just as I’d dreamed there beneath the wings of an angel…

My face must have given away my sentiment. Jonathon and Mrs. Northe turned to me.

“I’ll not forget you, Natalie—I mean, Miss Stewart.” He glanced at Mrs. Northe. “Forgive the familiarity—”

“I expect us to be on familiar names here, all of us. The inexplicable breeds familiar family,” Mrs. Northe stated, absolving any impropriety.

“I-I’ll write. I want you in my life—need you in my life. I’ll come for you…” He trailed away and I saw how overwhelmed he was, as if his instinct to flee and his desire to stay at my side were equal.

“I want what is best and safest for you. You…” I stared into my lap. “You know my heart.”

“And you know mine,” he countered. He turned to Mrs. Northe and embarked upon discussions of business, and I felt flattered that he did not wish to keep me from them. After they had spoken of solicitations, attorneys, and other matters, Jonathon turned to me again, a bit sheepishly.

“Why is it, Mrs. Northe, that out of all the impossible things, here we sit, the three of us, new friends. Yet Natalie is so familiar to me, like an old friend—full of light, color, and magic that she didn’t even know she possessed. You have such a way of accounting for the strange, Mrs. Northe, can you tell me why us?” He reached toward me, touching my cheek.

“Is it past lives?” I breathed excitedly.

Mrs. Northe rolled her eyes. “Don’t put stock in past lives. It’s
this
life that makes the difference. And in this life there may be certain destinies, people you’re meant to meet. We three have been meant to meet. But there is no sole person for another’s heart. Souls cannot be broken and then completed by another. That’s not healthy, nor wise. There are infinite possibilities as there are infinite people and some matches better made than others. Your magic was what was called for at
this
time in your current pass around the globe.” She made a face.

“Just don’t say that you’ll die without the other one or that you’ll never love again or that you’re not whole—” She batted her hand. “That’s the stuff of
Romeo
and
Juliet
, hasty nonsense, and you know how well that turned out. There’s magic about the two of you, yes. Just don’t be desperate about it. That’s where souls go wrong, when they think they don’t have choices. The heart must make choices.”

She looked to both of us, as if waiting for us to affirm that we understood. We nodded.

“Tell me, Lord Denbury, do you see other colors?” she asked. “Other lights around persons, other auras?”

He nodded. “Yes. You, for one. I sometimes see you with a slow and steady white haze about you, up from your head, almost like a thread. Calm, unruffled.” He smiled but his smile quickly faded. “The girl, Maggie. Red and a bit of yellow. Natalie, green and violet. But not everyone.”

Mrs. Northe nodded. “Likely you’re sensing abilities or picking up on those whose energy might have an effect on you. It will be interesting to track your progress or to see if the ability hones itself. Did you see these things before your…incident?”

Jonathon shook his head. “No, but I’ve always been an uncanny judge of character. Save for the demon. He took me utterly unaware.” He blushed, and I knew he was again regretting the opium den. There was no need to mention it.

“Part of his magic. Put to rest. Good work, friends, and now on to your next adventure.” Mrs. Northe turned to me, a curious look in her eyes. “Natalie, you and I have discussed many things. I’ve laid treatises at your feet, and you have listened patiently. I have done so to lay a foundation. The things that we’ve discussed will not pass as easily out of your life as they so suddenly came into it. And so it’s my duty to arm you as best I can. For I believe you two have been drafted into a most uncommon war. There is, after all, a ‘society’ to attend to,” she said ominously.

There was an awkward silence as Jonathon and I shuddered. He was going away. Yet, what of me? Were we, as Mrs. Northe indicated, soldiers meant to fight side by side or separately? Was our joint magic now to go two separate ways?

I would have followed him anywhere. And he knew it, surely…Mrs. Northe cleared any chance for further discussion by rising. “We’d best get you to the depot, Lord Denbury. I’ll pack you a bag. I had Martha make some soup. Go into the dining room and have some. You look hungry and cold, the both of you.”

We did as we were instructed and said nothing.
Please
kiss
me
, I thought, yearning for some reassurance. But this was Mrs. Northe’s home, and privacy was not ours. Nerves, exhaustion, and worry for the future had taken a grievous toll and we kept silent.

Dazed, he and I were trundled into a carriage, Mrs. Northe beside us. Looking at Jonathon, so elegant and dashing despite the night’s terrors, made me ache, but I couldn’t force my eyes away. He was in my world now. My world was bursting at the seams. Mrs. Northe gave him some money, tucking it quickly and firmly into his palm. “I know you’ll repay me when you can, but don’t refuse my gift.”

His eyes poured volumes of thanks upon our gracious, incredible benefactor.

He turned conflicted eyes on me and I had no words, only the widening ache in my heart. I felt with hard certainty the knowledge of what I would have to do. His hand would clutch mine and then pull away. A maddening cycle.

When I saw Grand Central Depot, a behemoth mass of tracks and steam engines, my heart leaped to my throat and I had trouble breathing. I couldn’t say good-bye to him; I just couldn’t. It would be wrong if I did. All my life I’d had keen instincts. And my instincts said it was wrong to part—not yet, not so suddenly free. I had taken pains to make sure that when we’d left the museum, my small bag was with me. I knew what I had to do. But he’d likely not accept my coming along, as he chafed at my making sacrifices for him. I had to make an argument, but I had no words.

“This isn’t good-bye, Natalie,” he reassured me. “I’ll come again. I’ll write to you sooner, via Mrs. Northe.”

I opened my mouth, and it was as if I were as mute as I had been before I’d met him.

He hopped out of the carriage, just north of the depot’s platforms. The steam and the noise of the rails were intrusive and maddening, the air gritty and unpleasant.

He reached for my face through the carriage window. I leaned out to him. “Pardon me, Mrs. Northe, I must—” he murmured, and kissed me passionately. He murmured in my ear that he loved me. I clutched his forearms as if I could hold him to me by force.

After an interminable moment he pulled away. “Thank you for everything, Natalie. You will hear from me, and I will be whoever you would wish me to be, anything you wish of me…” He fought tears in his eyes and walked away before either of us could exchange more vows or even before I could manage a word.

I couldn’t keep the tears at bay as I watched his figure, striking in a greatcoat and wide-brimmed hat, disappear into a crowd of passengers.

Mrs. Northe was staring at me with a curious expression as my feet nudged the cloth bag I’d stowed behind my heels.

“I know that’s a bag you’re fiddling with,” she stated casually. “I assume since he didn’t invite you that you’re too proud and stubborn to invite yourself along. So instead you’ll steal into a separate car and announce yourself only when it’s too late to turn you back around.”

I blinked at her. That was exactly what I was planning to do.

“Clairvoyant tendencies ruin all the fun of surprise,” she pouted. “But they are most certainly useful, just like changes of clothes, in times of crisis. I didn’t think you’d be able to bring enough without making a show of it so I packed another bag and had it waiting here for you,” she stated, sliding a small case from beneath the seat.

I knew my mouth was agape, but I couldn’t seem to shut it.

“I think I know your heart sometimes before you do.” She chuckled. “That, and as I told you, I’ve premonitions. But let me be clear, I’m speaking not in the interest of young love, but in the interest of your safety. I’d never recommend a hasty trip such as this, because it seems desperate. However, there’s something else. There’s residual, powerful magic lingering about him, as I’d warned. And it’s most certainly lingering on you too. It will be there hanging about the Metropolitan, perhaps even about me. What I’m saying is this residual echo may make you a target as well—”

“But are you safe?” I gasped finally.

“I’ll make sure I am. And I’ll have to convince your father this is for the best, for now. But you might want to catch that train.”

“Good God, how I’ll miss you! Please tell my father that I’m sorry and I love him—”