On her first morning at Bishop's Keep, Kate stepped out of the breakfast room into the hall. 'Pardon me,' she said tentatively to the parlor maid, 'can you show me the way to the library? I am to meet Miss Ardleigh there.' Amelia dropped her eyes, but not before Kate had caught
the fearfully sullen glance. It was the same look she'd seen on the face of the young chambermaid, a girl of fourteen or so, who had opened her draperies this morning and brought her tea. Mudd, of course, had been too well trained to display any overt emotion as he directed her to the breakfast sideboard. But she could see it in the tense line of his jaw, the half-furtive look of the eye. The orderly, placid surface of life at Bishop's Keep concealed a black undertow. The tension made Kate shiver.
'This way, 'f ye please, miss,' Amelia said without inflection, and started off down the dark hallway.
As she followed Amelia's modestly beribboned cap, it suddenly occurred to Kate that if Beryl Bardwell planned to include a servant as a character in 'Amber's Amulet,' she needed to know a great deal more than she already knew about the servants' lives. Perhaps she should set aside her apprehension and make an effort to befriend Amelia.
'It is such a very large house, there must be a great amount of work to do,' Kate said, catching up to the maid, who seemed to have wings on her feet. 'Is there a large staff?'
'Sev'ral, miss,' Amelia said, quickening her already fast pace.
Kate lengthened her stride. 'Have you been here long?' she inquired.
'Only since winter, miss.'
'Well, I suppose with a large staff, people are bound to come and go.' Kate smiled and made a friendly gesture. 'I am sure you have already discovered a great deal about life at Bishop's Keep, while I am a newcomer. I have quite a few questions.'
Amelia's reaction was not quite what Kate had expected. She stopped short, blanching. Her chin began to tremble. 'Don't be askin' me, I beg ye, miss, please,' she pleaded shrilly. ' 'Tis not my place t' say wot happened to Jenny.'
Kate stared at her, startled. Who was Jenny? What had happened to her? What fear had the power to turn Amelia pale?
'I don't mean to frighten you, Amelia.' Kate reached out
to touch the girl's white-cuffed sleeve. 'I would only like to-'
'That'll do, Amelia,' Mudd said severely, materializing out of the darkness. The parlor maid dropped a stricken curtsy and fled down the hall as if dragons flew at her heels. Mudd turned to Kate, his smooth face tightening.
'You were seekin' the library, I believe?' He pointed stiffly. 'It's that door. And if yer don't mind, miss, please direct any questions about the workin's of the ouse to me or to Cook.' His restrained Cockney was strongly flavored by menace.
Kate dropped her eyes. 'Thank you,' she said. 'I will.' Wondering what nest of secrets she had stepped into, she went to the door. She was conscious that Mudd stood watching until she opened it and went inside.
The library was long and narrow, with oak-paneled walls, shelves of leather-bound books, a desk untidily littered with papers, and a fireplace with a fire burning against the morning chill. The bright morning sun fell through a stained glass window done in the style of Edward Burne-Jones, and a Morris chair stood near the fire. On one wall Kate recognized a copy of Millais's pre-Raphaelite painting of Ophelia, and copies of Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray and his play Salome lay on an ebony table, in the edition that also contained Aubrey Beardsley's erotic drawings, Kate was a little startled when she saw it. Her aunt's tastes were interestingly modern.
Aunt Sabrina was seated at the desk. 'You rested well, I trust?' she inquired. She was wearing an unbelted peacock blue morning gown, and her gray hair, streaked with silver, was knotted loosely at the back of her neck. Kate noticed that she was not wearing the gold scarab pendant. ' 'Your room is satisfactory?'
'Yes, thank you,' Kate said. She seated herself in the leather chair beside the desk. 'But my curiosity has caught fire,' she added with a smile. 'Your remarks yesterday about my work only fueled it, I fear.'
Aunt Sabrina aligned a stack of papers. 'I must be… circumspect when your aunt Jaggers is present. She does not
fully appreciate my interests, which she views as eccentric and not altogether respectable, perhaps even… dangerous.'
'I see,' Kate murmured. 'And those views are-?'
Aunt Sabrina picked up a gold letter opener in the curious shape of a heron, turning it in her fingers. 'I have had for many years an interest in spiritualism and the occult. Some time ago, Vicar Talbot, whom you met last night, solicited me to membership in the Order of the Golden Dawn. The vicar is an antiquarian and an occultist of unblemished reputation.' She hesitated slightly. 'The Order is an esoteric society organized for the study and practice of ritual magic.'
Kate-or rather, Beryl Bardwell-could not help herself. 'How interesting!' she burst out.
Aunt Sabrina smiled slightly, then continued. 'The authority for the Order of the Golden Dawn is ancient, having been handed'down from Christian Rosenkreuz, the fifteenth-century father of Rosicrucianism. Our chief is Dr. William Westcott, who obtained this authority through an accidentally discovered cipher manuscript. Dr. Westcott founded the first temple several years ago in London, and authorized others, such as Mr. MacGregor Mathers's temple in Paris. Florence Farnsworth has just established the Temple of Horus in Colchester.'
'That is the temple of which you are a member?' Kate asked.
Aunt Sabrina nodded. 'Recently, I was asked to serve as the Order's Cancellarius, or secretary-historian.' She gestured at the stacks of papers on the desk and the large box that stood in the corner. 'I have been entrusted with many valuable papers, letters, relics, documents, and so on-all of which must be sorted through, cataloged, and described before a history of the Order can be begun. As well, there is the continuing work of correspondence, membership lists, and so on-a very great deal of writing to be done.' She paused and looked directly at Kate. 'That is why I need you, Kath-ryn. To make the work easier, I have ordered an American typewriter for you, a Remington, I believe it is called.'
'Oh,' Kate breathed. Beryl Bardwell had longed so much for a typewriter-and to think it would be hers!
' 'We have not yet spoken of remuneration,'' Aunt Sabrina said. ' 'I propose a salary of fifteen hundred pounds a year. I hope this is acceptable.'
Kate did a rapid calculation in her head. It was more than acceptable. 'Thank you,' she said.
Aunt Sabrina nodded. ' 'But the question your aunt Jaggers raises is a pertinent one,' she continued. 'While I am assured of the propriety, even the significance of this work, it may seem to you like so much'-the corners of her mouth twitched-' 'taradiddle and deviltry,' as my sister calls it.'
Kate thought of 'Amber's Amulet,' whose chief characters were the mysterious medium, Mrs. Bartlett, and her lover, the Egyptian gentleman. ' 'The occult is of very great interest to me,' she said, speaking with greater truthfulness than Aunt Sabrina could appreciate. 'I should be pleased to consider myself your employee, even'-she paused, and looked Aunt Sabrina straight in the eye, so there could be no mistake- 'your apprentice.'
Aunt Sabrina gave her an equally direct look. ' 'That is your wish?'
'It is indeed,' Kate said firmly. The more she could learn of magical ritual, the more realistic Beryl Bardwell's story would be. 'The typewriter. Will it be available for my personal use-during my free time, of course? I have some work of my own to pursue. Nothing very important,' she added hastily. 'It is just something that-'
'By all means, leave ample time for your own work,' Aunt Sabrina said. 'But there is something else I must ask,' she added, her voice darkening. 'The unfortunate gentleman whose body was found in the excavation at Colchester-' She paused and shifted uncomfortably.
Kate looked at her, remembering the odd coincidence of the golden scarab. 'Yes?'
'I wish to know more about him,' she said, 'but I cannot myself make inquiries. Would you mind going to… could you…?'
' 'You would like to find out the identity of the dead man?'' Kate asked.
Aunt Sabrina looked relieved at Kate's matter-of-fact response. 'I would,' she said. 'I regret that I cannot give you my reasons just now, and I also regret that I must ask you to undertake such an unseemly inquiry. But I-'
Impulsively, Kate leaned forward. 'Dear Aunt,' she said, 'I have no objections at all to looking into this matter for you.' Kate's face was serene and her voice calm, but deep within her, Beryl Bardwell was jumping up and down, clapping her hands. A murder to investigate! An opportunity to learn the methods of criminal detection firsthand!
