Haunting Violet Page 12


“No mistakes now,” she warned us all.

CHAPTER 4

Even though Colin and I had searched every inch of it, the parlor was still intimidating with its velvet cushions and gold candlesticks. Lord Jasper was already sitting at the round table in the corner, his cane with its handle shaped like the head of a silver swan propped beside him. His hair was a shock of white, barely tamed into a queue with a matching white beard, closely trimmed. As he was our host, the etiquette books I’d studied said I should greet him first. Instead, I plopped down into the nearest chair. It was more awkward than I would have thought, because my left knee didn’t bend properly alongside the bellows. I fixed one of those awful, excruciatingly polite smiles on my face. Elizabeth joined me, drinking from a glass of lemonade.

“What took you so long?” she whispered. “My mother’s been trying to get me to flirt with Xavier even though I told her he was courting you.”

“Oh.” I didn’t have any experience with this sort of thing. I liked him, of course. There was nothing to dislike. He was perfectly amiable. Elizabeth and I both looked in his direction. He was standing with Frederic, his blond hair neatly swept back. He looked at ease, perfectly comfortable with his surroundings and his place in them. I rather envied him for that. He caught us staring at him and smiled, offering us a small bow from across the room. I blushed.

Elizabeth held back a laugh but only barely. “Have you met his parents yet?”

I shook my head. “No, have they arrived?”

“That’s his mother by the fern terrarium.”

I glanced over and nearly groaned. She was dressed to the very pinnacle of fashion in blue silk with a lace-trimmed apron striped in a paler blue. Sapphires glittered on every possible expanse of skin and in her piled and scented hair. She was elegant and sophisticated.

“She’s going to hate me,” I muttered. “Even before I spill something on her.”

“Oh, pish. They’ll love you. Anyway, they’re in trade. It’s not like they can look down their nose at you because you aren’t an earl’s daughter,” she said, even though her own mother looked down at me that way, knowing full well we didn’t have the background to be associating with Lord Jasper and his ilk. The fact that he would invite families in trade was tolerated because of their combined wealth, but his inviting a medium and her daughter to a house party with the peerage was considered quite eccentric and worthy of prolonged gossip. He was very modern by all accounts. And since we were invited for scientific inquiry and entertainment, certain allowances were made.

Elizabeth’s smile was wicked. “Mrs. Trethewey cares about two things and two things only: fame and fortune. Right now, your mother is providing a fantastic amount of fame, so you have nothing to worry about.”

If only that were true.

Still, Elizabeth was always so jolly, she nearly made me forget why we were sitting there in the first place, until Lord Jasper rose and cleared his throat. The conversations died and everyone turned toward him.

“Shall we begin?” he asked. “Mrs. Willoughby?”

Mother was already seated at the cherrywood table. She smiled as if he were a king offering her a crown. She treated most wealthy men to that smile, but Lord Jasper especially. He was the reason behind most of the expensive cameos she wore and the silver candlesticks on our table at home. More important, he eagerly believed in her gifts and considered himself her most devoted patron and protector.

As the guests seated themselves, Colin busied himself with turning down all of the gaslights. It needed no explanations that a medium worked best in near darkness; where would any of us be without the suitable atmosphere? One of the candles was lit and placed on the mantel. A very small fire burned in the grate, reduced mostly to smoking embers. I took advantage of the shadows to hide my ungainly walk to the table.

Besides Lord Jasper there was Mrs. Aberworthy and her daughter. Miss Elaine Aberworthy wore a dress in a most unfortunate shade of lime green, edged with pink ribbons. My eyes watered just to look at her. She giggled into her gloved hand. Elaine never stopped giggling. There was another gentleman, Mr. Hughes, and his wife, who had the pale cheeks of the recently devastated. I had seen them all last week at one of the lectures Mother dragged us to. On her other side sat a girl, about my age, with reddish blond curls. Her dress seemed very white in the gloom. The coals sparked behind her, like fireflies.

“Violet, there you are,” Mother said pointedly. “Sit down. It doesn’t do to keep the spirits waiting.” She motioned to the chair in which the girl sat. There were no other empty spots at the table.

I halted, confused.

“Violet, do sit down.” Mother’s tone went sharp at my hesitation.

“I’ll need a chair,” I murmured, hoping Colin would bring one for me. I would never hear the end of it if I attempted to drag one across the faded carpet myself, even though I was perfectly capable. “I can’t very well sit there. We won’t both fit.”

The girl’s eyes widened when I nodded toward her. That was when I noticed the bruises around her throat and her wrists and the way she was dripping onto the carpet. Water ran from her long hair and her wet bodice, which clung to her, and there were dusky blue smudges under her eyes. She was as pale as jasmine petals. I could smell mud and fish and the thick, cloying perfume of lilies.

A heavy silence stretched between the sitters. Everyone watched me eagerly. I took a step backward before I could stop myself. Something wasn’t right.

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