Evermore (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium Trilogy #3)(16)

"Don't blame Jacob. Circumstances beyond his control, beyond everyone's, have meant I need to do things I wouldn't usually do."

"I don't see how visiting Fran?ois Moreau has anything to do with Beaufort or other supernatural events."

"Wait a moment." I leaned forward, but she did not look up from her stitching. "Did Louis tell you Cara and I went to the market?"

"No."

"I didn't say anything either," Cara chimed in.

"Then how did you know I'd been to see my grandfather?" I asked Celia.

She lifted one shoulder and concentrated on her embroidery.

"You went to see him too, didn't you? Celia, I don't know what's got into you of late," I mimicked.

She glanced up sharply. "This is not a joke, Emily."

I sank into the deeply cushioned back of the armchair. "Did you see Louis?" She nodded once and my heart lifted. "Are you going to tell me what he said?"

"There is nothing to tell. We talked very little. He told me he was back in England briefly and would soon return to the colonies. He cannot be away from his business for long. Apparently he has established a greengrocer shop in a place called Melbourne that is doing exceedingly brisk trade. He plans to diversify into other goods next year and perhaps open another shop."

"And what did he say when you told him about me?"

She pulled the needle through the fabric and I waited as she completed another stitch. I continued to wait and when she didn't answer, I heaved myself out of the chair. "You didn't tell him, did you? Celia!"

"It wasn't an appropriate time."

"Not appropriate!" My fists, heart, and very insides clenched.

"Calm down." She laid her embroidery in her lap. "We only spoke for a few minutes. I...I merely wanted to learn how long he was in London for and what the nature of his business is here. I left after I got answers."

"Why?" I threw my hands up. "Celia, why didn't you talk longer or invite him to dinner?"

"Seeing him again brings back too many painful memories." She sniffed and looked down at her embroidery but did not pick it up. "Please, Emily, I don't wish to speak of him anymore." She spoke so quietly I could barely hear her.

Cara and I looked at each other. She shrugged. I sighed. "I do want to see him before he leaves," I said.

"I know." Celia gave me a watery smile. "And you will. I'll make sure of it. Just...not yet. Let me get used to the idea of him being here again. I'll be more prepared next time. Seeing him today was quite a shock."

It must have been. My sister's feathers rarely looked so ruffled. "Very well," I said, unable to keep the frustration out of my voice entirely.

Celia took up her embroidery again and resumed stitching. "Tell us what you learned today."

I told them about the gypsy curse and how it was delivered to the Waiting Area. At the end, Cara sat perfectly still, her big brown eyes staring at me. She said nothing, but her fear was so palpable I could almost feel it.

"How diabolical!" Celia muttered, her embroidery once more forgotten.

"Indeed," I said. "To do something so dangerous and so drastic, Jacob's murderer must be very angry and be adamant that he was the cause of Frederick's demise."

"His parent," Celia said with absolute certainty. "Remember Jacob told you his murderer said 'my son.' That would explain the risk and the dogged determination to get revenge."

"We need to find Frederick Seymour's parents. Lady Preston's enquiries met a dead end there, pardon the pun. The Seymours no longer live at the address the university had listed for them and the new occupants didn't know where they'd gone. Finding them will be key to this, I know it."

Lucy entered and announced dinner was ready. Celia packed her embroidery away in the basket and headed out of the drawing room. I went to follow her, but Cara caught my sleeve.

"Will Mr. Beaufort be able to do something to stop the curse?" she asked.

"I don't know. We know so little about it."

"But will he...will he be all right?"

My throat tightened. I felt like the world was spinning out of control, or that I was the one spinning while the world remained unmoving around me. I grasped her hand and held on, anchoring myself. "I don't know."

"Will you?" she whispered. "Be all right, I mean?"

I bent and kissed her forehead. "Of course."

At the dinner table, conversation stalled. It seemed no one wished to discuss the curse or Louis, so I changed the topic entirely. "What time is the séance tomorrow?" I asked my sister.

"We don't have a séance tomorrow." She reached for the bowl of parsnips. "It's been canceled."

"Canceled?"

"As has our evening one, and the two for the day after."

I lowered my fork. "Oh no."

"All will be well," she said rather too chirpily to convince me. "Don't worry. We still have more set up for the rest of the week and into the next two."

I wish I could be so confident. I suspected this was only the beginning. First Lord Preston's threat then Mrs. Culvert's comment about my flagging reputation—I had a feeling it was only a matter of time before more séances were canceled.