My Plain Jane (The Lady Janies #2)(87)

Bran seemed distraught, but for Charlotte, linear thinking did not seem possible, like a train jolted from its tracks.

“Let’s see, we need some tea,” she would say.

“We have tea, dear,” Jane answered.

“We must make up a bed for Mr. Blackwood, I am sure he will be here.”

Jane would run her hand over Charlotte’s hair. “He is not coming.”

“I see. Yes, I know, Jane. I know.”

And then the wind would cause a branch to make a scratching sound against the window and Charlotte would spring from her chair.

“Perhaps that is he.” Then she would put her spectacles to her eyes and stare at nothing in particular, but the spectacles seemed to help her see things clearly: that Alexander Blackwood was not coming back.

After the news sank in, the duke once more approached the group.

Jane spoke for them. “Sir, this is the most grievous news. But why come to tell us in person? Is Rochester in custody? I am sure the Society has much work to do now.”

“That’s just it,” Wellington said. “We do have much work, but we are down a few good agents.”

He looked at Jane pointedly. She waited patiently for him to continue.

“Miss Eyre. Your service is required.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your king and country need you. Your skills are undeniable. You can see ghosts, and you are a Beacon, which means you can influence ghosts.”

“I’m a what?”

“A Beacon. It’s a special kind of seer. Didn’t Mr. Blackwood tell you?”

Charlotte raised her hand. “I started to tell her, but she was just so stubborn.” She put a hand to her mouth. “I mean she was not in the right frame of mind to hear me.”

The duke sighed. “Ghosts are attracted to Beacons, and they can also be influenced by them.”

Helen snorted, then placed her finger on her cheek, thoughtfully. “Wait a second.”

“Beacons are extremely rare. We’ve been looking for one for decades. We’ve found you, and who knows if we’ll ever find one again. Please, you must return to London with me.”

Jane stood still for a long moment. Helen came to her and studied each side of her face. “I think she’ll speak yet,” she said, as if she were a doctor diagnosing a patient.

Jane shook her head briskly. “Sir Duke, I believe you know I was recently possessed and almost married.”

“Yes,” Wellington said.

“And that I then spent days on the moors, starving and cold.”

“I figured as much.”

“And that I was recently proposed to again?”

Bran’s cheeks went red.

“No, I hadn’t heard that one.”

Jane took a deep breath. “My point is, I believe I have been through enough for one lifetime, let alone one month of one lifetime.”

Wellington frowned. “At least consider it. I implore you.”

Bran looked at Jane. “It’s what Mr. Blackwood would have wanted.”

Jane sighed. She had only just begun to like Mr. Blackwood. She wasn’t ready to change her life for it.

Charlotte dabbed a handkerchief to her eyes. Jane’s feelings for her were an entirely different matter. “We have only just learned of Mr. Blackwood’s death, sir. I need time.”

“Very well. Miss Bront?, may I impose on your hospitality for a night?”

Charlotte nodded. “Of course. Anne? Emily?” The sisters appeared from the kitchen. “Would you take the duke’s bag up to the guest room?” She emphasized the words guest room and Jane inferred it to mean, quickly clear out your room and make it look like a guest room.

Jane poured the duke a cup of tea, while Charlotte and Bran scurried about preparing for a guest.

“So, what do you think of my offer?” the duke said.

“It has not been nearly enough time for me to consider it.”

“Right. Right.”

They sipped in silence for a moment.

“I am so sorry about Mr. Blackwood,” Jane said. “I did not know him as long, or as well, as you, but he will be missed.”

“Yes,” the duke said. “His absence will be felt for some time to come. In mourning him, my mind turns toward one thought.”

“What is that?” Jane asked.

“How best to avenge his death. And the best way is with your help.”

“Sir!” Jane exclaimed. “I will not be made to decide tonight. In fact, I believe this is the appropriate time to bid you good evening.”

She went to rush out, just as Bran was coming in. “Did someone say avenge?” Bran asked.

“One last thought before you sleep on this, Miss Eyre,” the duke said. Jane paused at the door. “There is but one way to make Alexander’s death have any worth.”

She closed her eyes and heaved a deep sigh. How did the task of avenging Mr. Blackwood’s death end up at the feet of a poor plain orphan? Up until a few months ago, Jane’s only concern was staying alive. Finding enough food. And now she was supposed to avenge a death?

“Good night, sir,” Jane said. She made her way to her shared room with Charlotte. But before she got very far, she overheard Bran say, “If things are so dire at the Society, perhaps you need more seers.”