no ghosts.”
Mr. Morrison let out a laugh. “Miss Derrick, the amethyst is the only reason we did not.”
23
THE FOLLOWING MORNING WORD ARRIVED FROM NORAH GILLEY that they were going to London two days thence, and Lucy began to make preparations to leave her uncle’s house. While she packed her things, a boy arrived at the house with a note from Mr. Morrison, who begged she meet him once again at the chocolate house. When she arrived, he was loitering outside and looking agitated and demonstrating no particular interest in chocolate.
“I must leave Nottingham at once,” he told her, moved nearly to tears by what he said. He took both her hands and looked directly into her eyes. “I ought to have gone already, but I could not leave without seeing you.”
“I go to London in two days, with Miss Gilley. Where do you go?”
“I have sworn an oath of secrecy. I can tell you only that I leave England.”
Lucy took a moment to consider this news. If there were parts of the book outside England, she could never retrieve them herself. Maybe it was best not to ask too many questions. Better he should go, find the pages, and then hopefully she could persuade him to give them to her. She hated to let him leave with the love magic still upon him, but for the sake of her niece, Lucy had no choice.
“Perhaps,” she said, “when you have completed your quest, you will find me in London.”
He let go of her hands and began to pace in short strides. “If there is a way to do so without compromising the safety of this nation, then I will find you, Lucy. As soon as I can.”
After saying this, he proceeded to make many declarations. He spoke of how they would be together once this dark hour had passed. If he noted that she did not encourage, or even respond to, these speeches, he made no sign of it. At last, greatly moved by his own sorrow, he departed, and Lucy wondered if she would ever see him again. If she wanted the missing pages of the book, she supposed she would have to.
Shortly before she left for London, Mr. Olson came to call. She longed to say that she was unwell and to send him away, but he had suffered much, and even if he had also caused suffering, Lucy did not wish to be cruel. More than that, he had loved her after his own fashion, and she must not hate him for that. On the other hand, he had never declared he no longer wished to marry her, and she did not want to hear him press his case. However, Lucy knew she would likely have to face many things, many people, she would rather avoid. Best to get into the habit.
She went downstairs and found him in the parlor, sitting with his legs pressed close together, hands in his lap, looking uncomfortable, and yet, for all that, he appeared, if not precisely happy then at least contented. His eyes were wide and bright and attentive, his suit new and neat and clean. He had cut his hair into the fashion of late, and it was neatly combed. As she entered the room, he rose to his feet and bowed at her, and he had the air of a man who believed in his own significance.
“Miss Derrick,” he said when they were seated, “I understand you are to leave for London for the remainder of the season.”
“Perhaps not so long. Perhaps longer,” she said. “I do not yet know.”
He nodded. “I thought it would be wrong not to take my leave of you. I know that matters did not end between us as I had wished, and I spoke some words which I now regret. Nevertheless, I hope when you think of me, you will think well.”
Apparently Mr. Olson had set aside any intention of pursuing the wedding, and he’d simply neglected to mention that fact to the bride. In any case, this was good news, making her inclined toward generosity. “With all my heart. I have never said how sorry I was to hear of your mill, and the reversals you suffered. I do not love such enterprises for their consequences to the men of Nottingham, but I never wished that you should face these difficulties.”
“On that score you need have no fear,” said Olson. “My machines were destroyed and I had no money to replace them, but opportunities have arisen, and I now construct a new mill in a new location. From this adversity, great things have arisen.”
He forced a smile at her. Perhaps he wished to show her what she had neglected to seize, but Lucy did not think so. She believed he was just as relieved to have escaped her as she was to have escaped him.
“I wish you much prosperity.”
“I cannot see how we can fail,” said Mr. Olson. “Lady Harriett, my patroness, has a good head for such matters as these—a remarkable trait in a woman.”
Lucy stood up and wrung her hands, and seeing that he stared at her she sat back down again. She opened her mouth, to say that he must not take her money, must not do business with her, but knew how it would sound, and she had no means of convincing him. Nothing she could say would be creditable, and so she put her hands in her lap and looked away. “I can only wish your business brings you the success you desire.”
“Thank you, Miss Derrick,” he said, seeming to find nothing odd in her behavior. “I am sanguine it will all be well. You see now, you would not have suffered for being married to me.”
“And yet,” she offered. “I sense that your feelings have altered.”
He nodded. “It is the strangest thing. You must understand that I know you are a pretty girl, but I have never valued such things in a wife. I have never wanted to marry for anything but property. It merely happened one day that I thought I was in love with you, and then one day I thought I was not. I suppose love is strange in that way.”
He rose to his feet, blushing and announcing that he had taken enough of her time. She saw him to the door and shook his hand, so they parted with declarations of friendship. Yet Lucy was deeply troubled, for now it seemed to her obvious that someone had placed a spell upon Mr. Olson to make him love her, and she could not imagine who that person might have been. It did seem curious, however, that Lady Harriett still had designs on Mr. Olson. Lucy wondered if she had been manipulating him all along. It hardly mattered, though. Soon Lucy would be gone, and this would no longer be her concern.
Two days later, Norah arrived at Uncle Lowell’s house in a handsome coach, drawn by four yellowish horses. Her parents had traveled on ahead, and it was to be just the two young ladies and Norah’s woman. With great difficulty, Ungston and the coachman loaded Lucy’s trunk, which contained no small number of books, including her mostly false copy of the
Her uncle sat in his study, reviewing some letters, and took his leave of her coolly. “You’ve quite disappointed me in your conduct with Mr. Olson,” he said. “I hope you shall do better in London. You’ll be returning here in the end, I suppose.”
Lucy curtsied. “I have not troubled myself to think of the future.”
“No, I suppose not,” he answered, and then turned away.
Outside his study, Mrs. Quince waited for her. “Enjoy your travels,” she said with a pinched smile. “Do try to bring no more shame upon yourself.”
Lucy studied her, feeling unnerved by her restraint. “I have no notion of why you have treated me as you have, but in the end I will find out. You may be certain of that.”
Mrs. Quince stared in wonder, unblinking and unmoving, and remained that way until Lucy was inside the coach.
When Lucy and Norah approached the equipage, Lucy observed Insworth, Norah’s servant, hunched over her botched knitting, muttering gloomily under her breath as she teased out false stitches. She had been in the Gilley family for a long time, and no amount of ill humor or ineptitude could prove sufficient cause for dismissal. She was a remarkably sour woman, with an offensive smell, and so best not confined to a coach for a long period of time, but it was not she who gave Lucy her surprise. It was the woman sitting across from her: Mrs. Emmett.
