Evermore (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium Trilogy #3)(17)

I helped Lucy clear away the dishes because I didn't feel like reading a book and I wasn’t fond of embroidery or sewing. Celia was helping Cara with her reading, and I needed company. I hated being alone of late. It gave me too much time to think and thinking led to an overwhelming sadness.

We took the plates and bowls into the small scullery off the kitchen and Lucy washed as I dried. It was nice that she didn't fear me anymore and she chatted incessantly about this and that in her bubbly manner.

"I saw a friend at Leather Lane market today when I went with Miss Chambers to see that mad grocer," she said. "It was so nice to see her. We used to go to the servants' school together and she said something to warm my heart. You'll never believe it, but she saw our lovely Mrs. White last week."

"Mrs. White!" I stopped drying. "What about her?"

"She's got herself a position as a governess at a fancy lord's house. Quite a step up from the school."

The "school" was the North London School for Domestic Service, a charity-funded organization in the poor parish of Clerkenwell. They taught orphans the skills needed to be servants and helped them find employment at the end of their term. It's how we'd found Lucy. It kept the most desperate children off the streets and out of the clutches of pickpocket and prostitution gangs.

Unfortunately the previous master of the school, Mr. Blunt, had helped release the shape-shifting demon and had generally been an unpleasant fellow. Jacob had scared him out of London but when the strange paranormal events continued, we'd gone looking for him. However, he'd disappeared entirely, as had Mrs. White, one of the teachers who was much loved by her pupils. We'd wanted to ask her if she knew where we could find Blunt, but I'd grown worried when I heard she'd claimed to be going to her sister's house. She didn't have a sister.

"Did your friend say which house she's working in?" I asked.

"Somewhere in Grosvenor Street." Lucy swiped a pale wisp of hair off her forehead with the back of her hand. "Why do you want to know?"

"I, uh..."

"You can tell me, miss. I won't break a confidence."

"I'm not worried about that, Lucy, I trust you. It's just that I don't want to alarm you."

"Ah." She handed me a wet plate. "It's a spirit matter?"

"Yes." I eyed her closely. "Does that frightens you?"

She lifted one shoulder. "Not like it used to. That Mr. Beaufort's ghost, he's been nice and all. He don't throw things about like I thought he would."

"Only angry ghosts do that." And there were many of those. Spirits could cross from the Waiting Area into the Otherworld whenever they wanted, but some chose to stay and haunt the place of their death because they had something they wanted to resolve first. That's why I was frequently called to haunted homes—to rid it of an unhappy spirit who took their unhappiness out on their bereaved family. Or in some cases, the not so bereaved.

At least, that's how it used to work. With the curse causing chaos, it seemed no ghosts could cross, nor could they stay here.

"Does Mrs. White have a ghost problem?" Lucy asked.

"She might be able to help me with a supernatural situation," I said. "I won't know until I've spoken to her. Do you know which house on Grosvenor Street?"

"Sorry, miss, my friend didn't say."

"That's all right, I'll find her. Now, let's speak of happier things."

"Like the ball?"

I smiled. "Like the ball."

***

I awoke some time during the night with the peculiar sense of being watched. But I wasn't afraid.

"Jacob," I whispered into the darkness.

His shadowy figure emerged from the corner of my bedroom. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here," he said. "It's very bad manners."

"I'm not sure social conventions still apply after death."

"They should. I like to think they do in my case, although...around you...my thoughts are far from gentlemanly."

My heart skidded to a halt. I knew what he meant and it filled me with warm pleasure from head to toe.

I sat up and put out my hand. Ghosts could see better than when they were alive. I was acutely aware that I wore nothing but my nightgown and my hair must look a fright. "Why are you here?" I asked. "Is something wrong?"

He took my hand. He was so very cold and I felt him shiver. "I simply wanted to see you, Em. Do I need another reason?"

"You don't but...but lately you've been avoiding me."

"You know why." His voice was dark and thick, clogged with heavy emotion.

"Do I?"

"Theo is a good man," he said. "I like him more and more. I'm not going to get in the way."

It's what I wanted too of course. So why did I feel so empty all of a sudden? "He is a good man, as you say." He must have seen me kiss Theo, otherwise why bring it up at all? I wondered if he knew how much I'd enjoyed it, but how much I'd wished Jacob had been the one kissing me.

"You have a real chance of a happy life with him, Em. A full, long life."

"Don't," I choked out.

"No, listen to me." He caught my face in his hands but quickly let go and stepped away from the bed. "Don't throw this opportunity away. You like him. You enjoy his company, I know you do."