Gene of Isis

‘I rather think that if I were going to kill your cousin, Mr Hamilton, I would have done it after the wedding. As it is, I stand to inherit nothing from my betrothed, or my father.’ I could see the statement put me in the clear so far as the constable was concerned, but it also made me realise that I was destitute.

I walked around the desk and placed my hands on Lord Hamilton’s shoulders, hoping to pick up some impression from his remains, but I felt nothing. He had gone to his beloved wife, Clarissa. Perhaps this was how fate would have it whether Lord Hereford’s death proved to be murder or not. Maybe Clarissa was not prepared to share Douglas with another woman? Still, as I had been left the Hamiltons’ combined knowledge in one huge volume, I had achieved my aims, in a way.

‘May I have a moment?’ I requested, a little of my sadness slipping into my voice.

‘I apologise, Miss Granville,’ the constable said as the doctor and Mr Hamilton made for the door, thankful for the opportunity to withdraw, ‘but if a crime is suspected of being committed here, I can hardly leave you alone at the crime scene.’

‘I only wish to pray quietly for a moment,’ I explained.

‘I’ll be quiet,’ the constable assured me, taking a seat.

Just because the viscount’s spirit had left his body, it didn’t mean his spirit had departed the premises. I turned back toward Lord Hamilton and, closing my eyes, I quietly opened myself to his presence. What happened here, Douglas? Do my perceptions deceive me? Could you have died from natural causes?

The lighting in the room changed; it was evening now and candles burned brightly in the room. I felt Douglas very close, but before I had spotted him, my attention was diverted to the door of the study as two gentlemen entered.

‘Miss Granville is meant for Mr Devere, Hereford,’ said one of the stately-looking fellows, dispensing with formality to get straight to the point. ‘There is nothing to debate here tonight.’

I looked back to the desk to find my betrothed alive, but his expression gave me the impression that he was not happy to see his callers. ‘She does not wish to marry Mr Devere,’ Hamilton replied, not sounding surprised by their visit or the nature of it.

‘You owe us your allegiance, Hereford, and we have never needed it before today,’ retorted the fellow, who had not taken a seat, but stood holding his coat and hat in his hands. Obviously, he did not plan on staying long.

‘This is nothing personal, Hereford,’ said the other gentleman who was younger than the first. ‘We didn’t spend all these centuries creating Miss Granville so that you could abscond with her.’

Creating me? Was I hearing this correctly?

‘You don’t have any claim on her,’ Hamilton advised them, sounding most amused by their delusions, ‘and good luck holding such a woman when she doesn’t want to be held.’

‘She will marry Devere. It has been foreseen,’ said the larger, more threatening fellow, who was already putting his hat on to take his leave. ‘One way or another, Hereford, it will eventuate.’

Who are these men, Douglas? Who are they working for? Mr Devere? I couldn’t believe the man would hire killers! Besides, these two had the look of men more highly placed in society than Mr Devere was himself. And from the intimate tone of the conversation, I concluded that Lord Hamilton knew these fellows well. Why the hell was everyone so interested in who I married? My secret craft; had word somehow got out about me?

The vision vanished along with all sense of Douglas. That was all I was going to get out of this place today; I was in no fit state for any more channelling at present anyway. ‘I’m done,’ I told Constable Fletcher, who immediately sprang from his seat to prevent me from departing.

‘I’ll need to question you further, Miss Granville.’

‘Not now.’ I flatly rejected the idea. My head was swimming, my stomach was full of panic and my heart was aching for the happy marriage it would never know. ‘Perhaps this afternoon?’ I became more amiable in the hope of getting my way. I really needed to be alone and thankfully the constable was understanding, as he nodded in agreement.

‘If I might just ask…’ He begged my indulgence. ‘What distracted you from your prayer just now?’

‘Pardon?’ I must have been in a trance.

‘You looked from the doorway to the desk several times,’ he said, seeming confused that I didn’t recall my actions of only minutes beforehand.

‘I was just considering all those who had good cause to kill my betrothed…there were many people who did not want Lord Hereford and myself to wed.’

‘So you do believe he was murdered?’

‘Most certainly,’ I said plainly. ‘But now that all the evidence has been cleared away, I daresay you won’t have a case for murder, let alone a chance of finding the culprit.’

The constable’s light-body dulled a little. He thought I was insulting him, and he was angered that he’d not discovered the oversight himself.

‘No reflection on your skill, constable. Your profession does not have all the resources it should. However, I am sure it will be concluded that Lord Hereford died of apoplexy, due to the excitement of his forthcoming wedding. That’s nice and neat.’

‘Such serious cynicism in a woman your age, Miss Granville?’ Thankfully Constable Fletcher could see my point. ‘It almost sounds as if you are issuing me a dare?’

‘I know how the law works, so there is little point.’ I felt a great bitterness well up inside my throat, and I knew I was taking my anger out on the wrong person. Hence, I promptly curtseyed and left.

LESSON 5

MARRIAGE

Lord