Evermore (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium Trilogy #3)(59)

"Reginald?" Lady Preston said from the landing above. "Reginald, who—? Miss Chambers!"

"Lady Preston, there's so much to tell you. Please, you must listen to us. There's a chance we can save Jacob, but—"

"Where is his body?" Lord Preston shouted. He grasped my shoulders and shook me so hard my neck hurt.

Lady Preston gathered up the skirts of her ball gown and rushed down the stairs. "Reginald, let her go."

Lord Preston didn't heed his wife. Every shake grew more and more violent. Louis grabbed the lapels of the earl's exquisitely tailored coat and punched him in the jaw. Lord Preston tripped on the steps and landed on his rear near his wife's slippered feet. She gasped and knelt beside him.

Polson ran up the steps toward us, but Lady Preston ordered him to stop. "Fetch Adelaide. She's in her room. Everything is all right here." This last sentence was spoken to her husband who still sat on the step, his eyes unfocused, his shoulders stooped like an old man.

Polson glanced at Lord Preston then did his mistress's bidding.

"What were you saying about saving my son, Miss Chambers?" Lady Preston asked me. "Were you able to save the Otherworld?"

"Yes, but this is something else. Something more." I spoke quickly, the words spilling out like a waterfall. "Jacob is alive. We need to find his body to bring him back." At Lady Preston's stunned silence, I shook my head. "It's complicated. A curse was laid on him by the man who wanted to kill him, Frederick Seymour's father, but it was the wrong curse. It didn't kill him, just put him into a type of sleep where his spirit was separated from his body."

"So he's...alive?" She slipped to the side and I was afraid she might tumble down the staircase, but she simply sat heavily. Both she and her husband were as white as the marble steps.

"I'll explain more later, but for now, time is running out. Jacob's body is dying. We have to find it which means we'll need to separate. We'll also need your coaches, as many as you have. George will be back soon to tell us where to go." She sat there, staring at me, her eyes unblinking, her mouth ajar.

Lord Preston looked equally perplexed. "My dear...could it be true?"

"I believe her," Lady Preston said, sounding quite dazed. "And if you have any hope left, then you must too."

"But how can I? It's too...ridiculous."

"Oh, Father," Adelaide said from the landing above us. She too was still dressed in her ball gown, but her unbound hair fell around her shoulders. "Put aside your stubbornness for one moment and listen to your heart. I know you want to believe, so just do it. Please. If not for Jacob, then for Mother and me."

He turned to look at her. "You think I wouldn't do anything for your brother? That I would throw away any reasonable chance of finding him again out of stubbornness?"

"I don't know what to think. Perhaps it's more pride than stubbornness." Her lower lip wobbled and her eyes swam with tears. "You and Jacob did not get along before his death, and since then it only seems you want revenge because you hate it that someone took something from you."

He craned his neck to look up at her as she stopped on the step above him. "You think I care so little about him? About you?"

"You certainly don't seem sad, only angry. The only other time I've seen you this angry was when you were fleeced out of a small fortune by that investor."

"Don't, Adelaide," Lady Preston warned.

"No," her husband said. "It's all right." He reached up a hand to his daughter but she ignored it, and he let it fall limply to his lap. "You're right, my dear. I haven't been the best father, either before Jacob's death or after. I've been blinded by the search for him. It occupies me constantly, to the point where I don't know what time of day it is anymore. I forget to eat, I can't sleep. It consumes me."

"And yet when the opportunity to communicate with him presents itself in the form of Miss Chambers, you refuse to believe her."

"Adelaide, what you're saying, what all of you are saying...it's beyond belief. How can it be real? Give me solid facts and I will listen to what she has to say."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I can't, Father. You're right. It defies logic. Yet Mother and I believe her nevertheless."

"I can explain it," Celia said. She gripped my arm and squeezed hard, a sign she wanted me to stay quiet. "There is a tribe of Africans where all the women can communicate with spirits." She proceeded to tell him about my origins and how the ability to see spirits had been passed down the family line to me. Lord Preston did not interrupt. He seemed riveted. I suspect the history was something he respected. It was an explanation of sorts, and all the more real for being written down. "Emily did not wish to be a medium," Celia said. "She doesn't want the gift. Indeed, we are closing our little business immediately so she can resume a normal life."

"Celia," I said. "We can't. We'll have nothing to live on."

She squeezed my arm harder. "We'll discuss it tomorrow. For now, there are more urgent matters. Mr. Culvert will be back soon with directions. Lord Preston, please issue orders to your drivers to have all the coaches at your disposal ready. It's likely we'll need to separate. Once you've done that, return to the hall and I'll tell you the counter curse."