Haunting Violet Page 68
“Hardly.”
“Was it horrible?” she asked me later as we arrived at Rosefield. The roses were glowing against the sky, bees hovering lazily.
“They threw rotten eggs at our house. And cabbage.”
“Disgusting! Still, did Lord Thornwood invite you to his house? I hear it’s very grand, with marble cherub fountains.”
I shook my head. “Earls don’t invite their illegitimate daughters for tea, Elizabeth. You know that.”
“Well, they bloody well should.” She scowled. “When we return, let’s sneak some of those rotten eggs into his fountain.”
I giggled. “Oh, Elizabeth, I’ve missed you.”
We stepped out of the dark carriage. Elizabeth gasped. “Oh, Violet! Your eye! Whatever happened?”
“Oh, um, nothing.” My face powder must have smudged on the hot train. “You know how clumsy I am.” The front door opened before she could press me further. “However did you orchestrate this?” I asked to keep her distracted.
“It wasn’t me. Lord Jasper got a letter from your mother and sent for you straightaway. He wouldn’t even let me see it. He’s waiting for you in his library.” My steps faltered. She tugged my elbow. “Don’t be a goose. All is forgiven. In fact, you’re quite famous now. Even Sir Wentworth has asked after you.”
“Whatever for?”
She shrugged. “Everyone’s asking. Since the last séance was so … exciting, no one can talk of anything else.”
“Splendid.” I groaned. A thought curdled my already sour stomach. “The Tretheweys haven’t come back too, have they? I thought they quit the house party.”
“They did.”
We stopped in front of the heavy oak doors. Elizabeth knocked cheerfully, never having doubted her welcome anywhere in her entire life.
“Come in.”
“Wait!” I clutched at her hand. “Come with me.”
“Can’t.” She grimaced. “Mother’s likely missed me by now. She’ll want to lecture me some more. She’s quite convinced you’re a bad influence.”
I wondered if anyone would mind if I crawled under the carpet and refused to come out. She gave me a little shove and I stumbled into the study. Lord Jasper was seated behind an enormous desk cluttered with papers, an inkwell, a clock, and a miniature of his wife. He stood when he saw me, leaning on his silver swan cane.
“Ah, Miss Willoughby, do come in. I suppose it’s Miss Morgan though, isn’t it?”
“Thank you for inviting me, Lord Jasper,” I said properly and politely. There was a long silence. I finally just dropped into a chair and looked at him miserably through the ringlets at my temples. “I’m sorry,” I said. It occurred to me that I was apparently going to spend most of the day apologizing. “I didn’t know how to tell you. Or even if I should.”
He sat down and regarded me solemnly for a long moment, which had me fidgeting. He finally nodded. “I know, Violet. I did think your mother might have the gift, but I was mistaken. It was you all along. I only knew it was someone in your family.”
“What?” I blurted out. “How? You’re not angry?”
“I’m not pleased,” he said dryly. “But that is between your mother and me. You’re still a girl, Violet. I can hardly hold you responsible for the actions of your elders.” I was so relieved, my eyes blurred. I might have felt as if I was getting off rather easily until he speared me with those pale eyes. “But you are not to lie to me again, Violet. I want to be quite clear on that.”
I nodded, mouth dry. There was a glitter of power about him that had little to do with the fact that he was a wealthy lord of the realm. “Yes, my lord,” I replied quietly.
“Excellent. Shall I have Mrs. Harris make a poultice for your eye?”
“I … fell,” I explained lamely.
“Of course you did. Your mother, I now suspect, does not do well when thwarted.”
I gulped. “Um, pardon me, but how do you know that I’m not lying to you as she did?” I rushed to add, “I’m not.”
He leaned back in his chair. Through the windows behind him I could see Elizabeth and her mother strolling leisurely through the roses. Elizabeth looked right bored.
“My dear girl, you knew about my wife’s tea preferences and her reading habits as no one else does, aside from the housekeeper, and I trust her implicitly not to speak of private matters. Besides, you were quite disconcerted with the knowledge, were you not?”
I bit my lip. “Yes.”
“Perfectly normal. As was the headache you suffered afterward, though most are far more gravely ill before the talent comes upon them. And then that photograph, of course.”
I hardly knew what to say.
“You are not the first medium to be surprised with sudden talents. But I can teach you how to control them.”
“What if I just want them to go away?”
“Do you?”
I thought of Mother, of Rowena and the pond. “I don’t know.”
“I would advise against ignoring them in any case. Such things seldom fade by lack of attention; instead they tend to grow rather more insistent. Wild, even.”
My shoulders slumped. “Oh.”
“Not to worry. I have some experience in these matters.”
“You do?”
“Yes.” He nodded, but his expression was grim, distant. He slid a book across the desk. “You can start by reading this.”