Evermore (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium Trilogy #3)(26)

"The spirit world can see a great many things," I said.

"Go away." The half of his face not covered by his extraordinarily bushy beard and moustache was pale, the skin glistening as if he were in the grip of a fever.

"Are you ill, Mr. Blunt?" I indicated George should help him to one of the chairs. "You look very unwell."

"Just go." He groaned and lowered his head into his hands. "I've done nothing wrong since...since then and I want no trouble."

"That's not why we're here, Mr. Blunt."

Theo and George took up positions on either side of him as he sat, but I doubted they would be needed in any strong-arm capacity. Blunt looked far too ill to run or be any physical threat to me. Indeed, I was quite sure I could land a harder punch than him at that moment. From the way he slumped in the chair, he looked like a shadow of the man we'd first met mere weeks ago.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. "Get on with it then."

"You might be ill, but there's no cause for bad language around ladies," George said.

"She's no lady. Go on, state your business, or I'll call the footmen." Blunt's unfocused gaze met mine and I was startled by the web of red lines crisscrossing the whites of his eyes.

George bent down to Blunt's level. "Call the footmen and Miss Chambers will unleash a spirit on you."

Blunt's gaze flicked from George to me to Theo. He did not look afraid, and for a man who'd shown considerable terror whenever Jacob visited him in the past, it was rather telling—he must have known I couldn't summon any spirits from the Waiting Area.

"Where did you go after leaving the Clerkenwell school?" I asked. "It could not have been here. The footman said you were appointed only a few days ago."

"I was in the country. Visiting family. I returned to London last week and applied for the position here when I heard it was vacant. As soon as it was granted, I moved in. It's a live-in position and I have rooms on the top floor. Satisfied, Miss Chambers?"

He got up to leave, but Theo put a hand to his chest and Blunt fell back into the chair again, as limp as a doll.

"Call off your thugs," he said to me. "I have to go. I have a, uh, very important appointment to keep. Very important."

"Not yet," I said.

A shudder wracked Blunt and any remaining color in his face drained until he was completely white. "I don't feel well. Please...let me go...I need to keep my appointment. I'm begging you."

"Do you know a youth named Frederick Seymour?"

He swallowed heavily and ground his fingers into his eye sockets. "Should I?"

"Do you know anyone by the name of Seymour?"

Another shake of his head which produced a loud groan. He clutched his hair, almost dragging it out by the roots. "Miss Chambers..." He began to rise but once again, Theo shoved him back.

"Do you know any gypsies?"

He pulled a face, although I couldn't be sure if it was because the thought of meeting a gypsy filled him with horror or he was going to throw up.

George looked at me and shook his head. I sighed. He was right, we weren't going to get anywhere by questioning Blunt. If he knew anything about the curse, he wouldn't freely admit it to us.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Blunt, although—"

Blunt made a great heaving sound and propelled himself out of the chair so fast that he tripped over the rug and landed on his hands and knees by the fireplace. A horribly demonic sound burst from the depths of him before he emptied the contents of his stomach in the grate. The contents of his pockets had emptied all over the rug near his knees.

George buried his nose and mouth in the crook of his arm.

"I think we should go," I said.

George and I walked quickly to the door. Instead of joining us, Theo bent beside the miserable figure of Blunt. He picked something up and pocketed it. The three of us left the Institution in a hurry.

"He knows something," I said once we were inside the carriage. "Did you see how he wasn't afraid when you threatened him with spiritual violence, George? He knows the ghosts cannot easily come here and we're rather powerless in that regard."

"That doesn't mean he's connected to whomever is responsible for the curse," George said. "He may have heard the rumors of your recent difficulty summoning spirits."

"Not Blunt, surely. He's the master of a charity school. It's unlikely those rumors have reached him yet." It was something Celia and I were counting on. We had as much business from ordinary folk as we did from the upper regions of society. Indeed, it was the middle classes who tended to take us more seriously, whereas we were mostly seen as frivolous entertainment by the wealthy and privileged. Lady Preston had begun to change that through her circle of friends, but all her good work was unraveling a little more each day.

George and Theo exchanged glances.

"Are you two hiding something from me?" I asked.

"Emily," said Theo gently, "you must prepare for the worst."

"The worst?"

"Your business may fail completely," George said.

"What?"

"Mother has reported that even more people are talking about you in a, er, somewhat negative light."

"My aunt said the same thing." Theo grimaced. "I'm sorry, Emily, but I think you'll find you have many more cancelations before the week is out."