The moment of truth has arrived, and it’s time for Cinderellato depart for the ball. I find a comfortable chair in the library and wait forKelly, mink cloak draped across my lap. I check that my lucky pebbles are inthe pocket and smile at myself for being silly. They’re just stones from acreek bed in the woods, nothing extraordinary. Except that they came into mypossession during my first escape, when my nanny fell asleep in the rose gardenafter a picnic. Counting my steps, I walked the length of our property andended up in the forest. I fell a few times but it didn’t matter, I was free andhappy. I dunked my feet in the creek and found the pebbles, napped in the sun,and listened to the birds sing. My life at The Revels felt small and cold bycomparison and I realized there was much more to experience than my parent’shome had to offer.
Yet I believed I could escape my sterile existence, if I wasclever enough. Such knowledge brought a confidence, a boldness which I lackedbefore.
Rising to my feet, I pat the lucky stones in my cloak pocketand smooth my layered skirts. No use looking like a wrinkled fool at the cotillion.Upstairs, Father shouts for the butler to bring him his tonic, and my musclesautomatically tense. I remind myself that I need not worry. He won’t beattending the ball tonight. His stomach is ill, the old ulcer flaring up again.
Don’t think of how angry he’ll be in the morning.
Without doubt, some sort of punishment looms in my future, butI would hate to be discovered now. Banished to my room without even completingthis investigative mission. Leaving the library, I walk to the front door,open it quietly, and go outside. There are three steps ahead of me. I hold thehandrail and descend them, using my cane only when I am out of earshot. Nightsounds fill the air—the snap of a twig, fluttering wings, branches scratching awindow pane.
And weeping.
A shiver runs up my spine as Freckles, or rather Maude Lambson,materializes. Do your job, Visionary. Or Death will come for you.
Maude begins threatening me with the worst kinds of torment. Isshe telling the truth? Is the Reaper under her control? Knowing Maude’stendency to blackmail, I think not or not yet at any rate. As an immortal, He’sseen most of the subterfuge the world has to offer, and I doubt a hotel maidcould pull the wool over His eyes.
Maude/Freckles abuses my character even more, using badlanguage and Cornish insults. Then I begin to wonder if she really wishes topass over to the other side or if she just enjoys the power of haunting. I feelMaude’s breath against the side of my neck. The ghost is standing a few inchesaway, temporarily exhausted from her tantrum. The scabbed-over scratch at mythroat burns like it’s new.
Shut her out, Hester. Get to the cotillion; that’s your nextstep.
Maude Lambson suddenly gives me breathing room. She is distractedby the appearance of Carver, the old gambler ghost whom I last saw when I wasbathing. I focus on his presence with my mind and envision him strutting aboutthe driveway in his blue silk vest, marching like a soldier on guard detail.Carver pretends to carry a rifle. He tips an imaginary hat my way and pointsthe invisible gun at Maude. She flies at him, thrilled to have a new victim toabuse.
The rewards of a Visionary are not worth this level ofdistress. I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale. Are there any rewards? HaveI ever received one? Carver interjects at this point. Skedaddle, hewhispers in my head, sounding half sane. Go while the redhead’s occupied.
I nearly fall while counting my steps to the end of the drive. Icall out to Tom telepathically. He seems harried, too.
On my way, love. I’ll be at Griffin House when you arrive.
His affection and comfort surround me, and for a split-second,my anxiety disappears. I am so enthralled by our mental connection that I donot notice the doctor’s arrival and give a little jump at the sound of hisvoice.
“What are you doing out here by the road, Hester?” Kelly asks.
Ghosts, my father, nerves… Hello, I sign.
“Let’s get you into this carriage and be quick about it.”
Thank you. Kind gentleman.
The coach is a luxury model, large and comfortable. It musthave cost the doctor dearly to rent. We travel to Griffin House, and I senseTom’s presence, hidden away in the garden. A fashionable fifteen minutes late,Kelly and I climb the steps to the gentlemen’s club. By all accounts, thisestablishment is sumptuous. It has billiard rooms, a chess salon, an in-housebarber, fencing practice, and a pugilism ring. Not to mention a library for thecerebrally inclined and a saloon for those who prefer to pickle their brainsinstead. Most well-to-do Stonehengian males over the age of eighteen dream ofbeing members of this place.
The entry way is redolent with the smell of evergreen boughsand crushed cloves. I feel Kelly take something out of his vest pocket and handit to the butler. We are then introduced at the ballroom door. “Dr. Noah Kellyand Miss Hester Grayson.”
I subdue my ears to better tolerate the quartet playing in themusician’s gallery above. The waltz is slow and lilting, and I wish I knew thedance steps to accompany the tune. Voices whisper on all sides, and I listen toone after another.
But nothing signifies, just a lot of idle conversation.
“Let’s have some punch, Hester,” Kelly says. “Circulate a bit.”
He puts a cup into my hand. The liquid inside is flavored withcitrus, cinnamon, and honey. I take another sip, and Kelly leads me about theroom, chatting with the other partygoers and allowing me to hear their voices.
“Anything?” he asks an hour later.
I shake my head. Sorry, I sign. Not yet.
A man steps up and joins us. Kelly seems to know him. “I mustadmit, Mr. Scarlett. You throw as fine a party as I’ve ever attended.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” an attractive voice replies. “It’s hightime you joined us.”
Kelly puts his hand on my back. “May I
