A Dreadful Splendor (90)

I felt the whisper all the way to my toes. There was nothing I wanted more than to reach up and trace the scar with my finger, even place a kiss there. I almost told him everything then, all the secrets that weren’t in the police report the night Maman died. But I knew that would change everything. It was better to leave him with this image of me.

“I have always found friendship difficult,” I said. “But you are the one thing I will remember fondly about Somerset Park.” Then I took a step back. “However, I believe calling each other by our first names will only cloud an already complicated situation.”

His smile eased into a conciliatory expression. He bowed his chin. “I suppose I must accept your decision. I cannot find fault with you keeping me as a pleasant memory. I will do the same.”

A knock at the door made both of us step apart. I hadn’t realized how close we still were.

“Come in,” Mr. Pemberton said.

The door opened and Bramwell stood in place, tall and austere. “Forgive me, my lord, but there is an issue with the wine cellar.”

Mr. Pemberton put his attention back on me.

“Go, I’m almost finished here,” I said.

He lingered long enough to give me a reassuring smile, then turned and left the room with Bramwell.

The space felt empty without him. I glanced up at the stag’s head, reasoning that’s where the peephole was located. I wondered how many times Lord Chadwick had stood there, spying on his family and servants.

It was time to refocus; I closed the ghost book and checked over all the props once more. The grandfather clock chimed, reminding me that in a few hours this room would be filled with guests. All that remained was ensuring Flora would be among them.

Returning to my room, I lit several of my candles. Then I pulled the servants’ cord and paced the floor until a light knock came at the door.

“Come in,” I said.

Flora stood there with a tray in her hands. “Mrs. Galloway thought you’d want some refreshments before the party, miss.” She wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“I’m sorry for what I said about Mr. Sutterly. It’s none of my business.” I took the tray from her and placed it on the small table, eyeing the teapot suspiciously. “I hope you’ll forgive me. And I hope you’ll consider being part of the séance tonight.”

“Me?” Her voice rose an octave.

“Absolutely,” I continued, pretending not to notice her nerves. “Having you there will be an important addition. I’ve already gained permission from Mr. Pemberton. And don’t forget, Mr. Sutterly will be there too.”

Her bottom lip started to tremble. “No, miss. I don’t think so.”

I glanced at the candle nearest to the window. Then I rubbed my arms. “Do you feel that?” I asked. “Check the window, please. There must be a draft.”

With a stiff manner, Flora checked the window. “It’s closed, miss. There’s no dr—”

The candle went out. We watched a wisp of smoke rise up from the glass chimney.

“How odd,” I said. “I sense a spirit is with us. And yet I haven’t called to anyone. That’s never happened before.”

Flora stepped away from the window, edging closer to the fireplace. The horror on her face was unbridled. The two candles on the mantel extinguished one right after the other. She let out a yelp, a hand flying to her throat.

I pointed at her. “It’s you!” I called out. “The spirit is connected to you. Wait!” I raised my chin, as if looking at something just over Flora’s shoulders. “It’s Maisie! She’s trying to say something.”

Flora shook her head, skittering backward. “You’re just tryin’ to be spooky.”

In reply, the remaining candles burned out. Only the lamp remained lit on the bedside table. This time she screamed in earnest.

Walking toward her, I said, “Maisie is desperate to send you a message. It’s costing her a great deal of strength.”

“No!” Flora cried. “I don’t trust you!”

The lamp slid off the bedside table and tumbled to the rug as if hit by an invisible hand.

I curled up the string I’d just yanked and let it drop to the floor. The top of my boot gave it a nudge, kicking it under the bed. “She says you’re troubled by a secret. A secret you’re too afraid to tell anyone.”

Flora chewed on her lower lip.

I reached for her hands. “Maisie says once you tell the truth, it will release you from your nightmares and your correct path will reveal itself.”

“Does she forgive me?” Flora clutched my hands tightly, her fingernails digging into my skin.

That was unexpected. Still, I continued. “Yes. She loves you.”

She collapsed into my arms, heaving great sobs into my shoulder. “It was an accident!”

A bit stunned, I patted her back and soothed her with whispers. “There, there,” I said.

“All I wanted was to make her better,” Flora sputtered. “Auntie Lil said there was nothin’ we could do, but I had to try somethin’. I didn’t know enough, though. The tea leaves looked the same to me. I thought I was givin’ her a tonic to help with fever. Instead, it stopped her heart!”

My own heart practically faltered at this. Flora’s guilt was for Maisie, and not Audra?