Spirit Guide, page 14
Even when screaming, her voice was beautiful: thick and sweet, like being drowned in honey.
“Kill me! You’ve always wanted me dead! Do it, if you aren’t a coward!”
“As you wish, Minette,” said Tristan Fontaine, the Duke de Archambeau.
Suddenly, I realized that he was standing to my right in a white flowing shirt, half tucked into his tan riding breeches. While he wore tall riding boots, he looked as though he had dressed hastily, for his hair was unkempt and that hard jawline of his had a shadow of a beard.
Tristan raised his right arm, his hand holding a dueling pistol. When it went off, the sound was so loud I covered my ears. Ten yards away, Minette fell gracefully to the ground in a heap, dead.
Tristan turned to me, lowering his arm.
“I killed her. I’m a murderer,” he said flatly.
“Hm. Yes. Well, enough about that. I’m lost in the Beyond, and really need your help getting out of here.”
The dreamy expression on his face grew harder, more intelligent. Life awoke in his dream manikin. “What? What are you doing here? You’re never in these dreams.”
I reached out and shook his arm. “Listen to me. You’re probably about to wake up, and I need you to remember this. Go to Twyla. Find Anne-Marie. Tell them my body is at the institute run by the Morpheus Society. You need to hurry! Will you remember? Will you remember? Will you remember?”
My voice echoed as the dream disintegrated away, leaving me alone in the gray formless Beyond.
Chapter Nineteen
This is what Twyla later related:
There’s so much to tell you! I’ll just start at when you left, and if I skip anything you want to know, interrupt me.
Sergeant Dupont didn’t complain about not finding the imaginary rat, he just returned to his post at the door. He’s a proper dunce! So slow!
Anne-Marie and I played cards while we waited. She is either very good at playing Dead Man’s Noose, or she knows how to cheat. I don’t know which, but I suspect the latter. I’m going to ask her to show me how she does it.
Hours passed, and when we didn’t hear from Marcus we both wondered what we should do. But then, who should burst through the door? The Duke de Archambeau!
He was shouting at the top of his lungs, with Sergeant Dupont trailing behind, hanging his head. “Where is she?” he demanded.
I started explaining but he just grabbed me, shaking me so hard my teeth hurt.
“Stop your babbling and let Anne-Marie tell me!”
He didn’t act very lover-like. There was nothing weepy or hand-wringing about him, even though you were in danger. If he does send you a love note, does it begin with ‘troublesome woman’?
“What was Elinor thinking? To put herself in that man’s hands! I knew this would happen. Next time, I shall lock her in a cell and throw away the key!”
Anne-Marie tried to reassure him, but to no avail.
“Marcus will send word back on where she is.”
He gave her such a look!
“I know where she is. She’s in the Beyond. She sent me a message and told me to contact Mys Andricksson. That you would be able to rescue her. Stop blubbering and do it now. At once!”
I tried, madame, I really tried. First I looked for you in Parnell’s palace, that strange place where we met Lady Losendahl, but I came up empty. It had vanished or was so well-hidden I couldn’t locate it. Next, keeping my thoughts focused on you, I tried to summon, but again, nothing responded to my call.
Before His Grace could shake me again, one of the street imps showed up. It was a dirty little girl dressed in soiled boy clothes, and on her head was perched what I thought was a bird’s nest only to realize later it was actually her hair.
When he realized she had a message from Marcus, he shook her too! It seems he thinks shaking people makes them think. The poor thing went mum, her terrified eyes as big as saucers. It took some cajoling by Anne-Marie, who gave her a cookie and her prized newsboy cap, to get the child to speak.
“Marcus told Jenny, who told Johann, who sent a message to Aaden, that the prize you be looking for is at the madhouse. The place the ghost folk are sent when their minds go to pudding.”
I explained what she meant. “She means the institute. I know where it is.”
“Elinor already told me where she was,” he snapped back. “Since you cannot help her from here, we shall go and demand some answers there.”
He started barking orders at us. “Anne-Marie, send a note to Inspector Barbier to meet us there. Then stay here in case there is any more news or messages. Sergeant Dupont and Mys Andricksson, with me.”
The duke’s carriage was waiting for us outside, and his horses galloped so fast I had to grab the strap to keep my seat while His Grace interrogated me about the sanatorium. He wanted to know about the property and the layout of the building. Who might be there. How heavily it was guarded.
The carriage pulled around to a side lane, passing the locked gates. The wall was not very tall, and with the duke giving him a leg up, Sergeant Dupont was able to lurch his hefty backside over it. I thought His Grace was going to leave me behind, but I told him I’d scream if he did. And I can scream very loud.
He was surprised not to find dogs on the property, but I told him that they couldn’t have dangerous animals running around when patients might wander away. Besides, it wasn’t a prison!
“Then why are the gates locked, Useless?” asked His Grace.
“It’s the middle of the night!” I reminded him.
He told the sergeant to enter the back of the building where the kitchens and dining hall were located. The duke himself had other plans.
“We’re going to walk right in?” I asked, surprised by his audacity.
“Yes.”
He didn’t wait for me, but started up the main path. I had to trot to keep up. When we entered the institute, an old lady was at the front desk. She was surprised to see us, alarm plain on her face.
“Excuse me, but these are not visiting hours. You can come back later in the morning, after ten, to see a patient or visit with a doctor.”
I blurted out before the duke could speak, “I’m Mys Twyla Andricksson, here to visit my mentor, Madame Elinor Chalamet. I think she’s here?”
She clucked her tongue. “That doesn’t give an apprentice permission to come barging in here in the middle of the night. We have schedules here!”
“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to act humble. “Is she here?”
The night manager grumbled, but after taking forever to check her ledger she finally said, “I don’t see that name. You must be mistaken.”
I looked sideways at the duke. His face was like one of those horrible storms that blows into the harbor and breaks the masts of ships. He said, “We’ve been told by Mysir Parnell Lafayette that she is here. Perhaps we can speak with him?”
Under the desk I saw her fingers move, pressing something. I had no time to warn His Grace because in a moment we were faced with two men who came out of the rooms behind her. Thugs. Big and broad, with a look that meant business.
“Escort these two—”
She didn’t even get the words out before the duke grabbed a chair from the entry hall and, in a swift lunge, knocked it flat against the face of one man. As the other charged us, the duke feinted to the right, before abruptly changing direction to the left. As the man went by him, he smashed the oak frame against the top of the brute. He went down to join the other crumpled on the floor.
Was it wrong that I jumped up and down and clapped? Finally he was showing some lover-like spirit!
The woman was about to run, but the duke caught her by the wrist and in a flash he had her arm twisted high behind her back. He had no sympathy for her sex, and his fierce growl was not one I would like directed at me. “Where is she?”
From the top of the stairs, Mysir Lafayette said, “Stop abusing my poor staff, Your Grace. If you want answers, ask me.”
Lafayette was pointing a pistol at us! The duke pulled the woman in front of us like a shield, causing her to beg Lafayette to put away his weapon, while His Grace commanded me to get behind him. I jumped to do so.
We did not stay in the foyer long. His Grace shoved the struggling woman in front of him up the staircase. We started climbing upward, towards Lafayette. The old lady continued going on about how everyone should remain calm. I thought the duke was being amazingly calm, myself!
Lafayette kept talking. “If you don’t leave now, you’ll never see Elinor again. Unless it’s at the morgue.”
By this time, we were near the top of the landing and Lafayette backed away from the railing. I’d swear the hand holding the pistol was actually shaking. Not a very brave man, Elinor. Not like the duke.
“Where is she?” His Grace demanded again.
“She came willingly.”
“Where is she?”
“Stop moving! Do you think I will not shoot?”
Crouched behind the duke’s back, I could not see his face, but I could feel the taut muscles under his coat. He was about to make a move. One of his hands came behind him and tapped me, pointing to the side where there was a potted plant. I tapped back on his hand to let him know I understood.
We were of one mind! We were both determined to save you!
I jumped sideways and threw myself at the pot, sending the plant toppling. It made me fall down a few stair steps, so I grabbed the railing to stop my descent.
The pistol went off, but the shot must have gone wide, for when I opened my eyes, the duke had Lafayette’s neck in his grip and was shaking him so vigorously the man’s feet came off the floor. Like I said, His Grace does like shaking people!
“For the last time, where is she?”
“I don’t have to answer.”
His Grace took the small finger on Lafayette’s right hand and brought it backward, toward his wrist. We all heard the snap. The man gave a high-pitched howling scream. I might have given a sympathy scream at the same time.
“That’s one.” If Lafayette was going to speak, he didn’t get a chance, because the duke said, “Two.” There was another snap. “Now, where is she?!”
Perhaps the manager didn’t like to hear snapping finger bones either for she screamed, “Down the hall! In the last room.”
Grabbing the pistol off the floor where Lafayette had dropped it, His Grace brought the butt down on the man’s temple. Lafayette went down, moaning. His Grace left him like discarded trash, and stalked down the hall. I ran after him.
“Hold this.” He handed me Lafayette’s gun, and it was only then that I recognized that it was your own dear man-stopper! The cad! Taking a gun from a woman! I gripped the handle as hard as I could so I wouldn’t drop it.
His Grace brought the heel of his boot down so hard to the left of the doorknob that the wood splintered. A second blow and the door gave way. Inside we found you, unconscious on a bed.
I couldn’t look away! It was like the best part of a play! He had you in his arms and made all sorts of promises and so many endearments! Here— I’ve written it all down for you so you can put it under your pillow to dream about. He was very gushy until he noticed I was watching. Then he told me to save you or he’d pull my skin inside-out through my nose.
It was your father’s watch, in your pocket, that I used to locate you in the Beyond. It showed me where you were, just like a compass.
Chapter Twenty
Remembering took energy, and that I had little enough of as I lay in a nice soft bed. While I was no longer drugged, the room kept moving around me at odd moments, and lifting a hand to hold a spoon to my mouth took a great deal of will-power. Overall, I felt very tired, with no motivation to stay awake.
Anne-Marie helped me bathe in the huge bathtub with the gold-plated faucets. With my head resting on the tub’s rim, she tried brushing out my hair. “It’s horribly matted.”
“Is it?” I asked, floating among the bubbles. “Just cut it off, then.”
“Never!” said Anne-Marie, shocked. “I’ll put some nut oil into the knots and then use a comb. The knots will work out, you’ll see.”
I was dozing by the time she was done, and the bath water had long grown cold.
“Here.” She wrapped me in a towel, nice and fluffy, and helped me back to the bed. A nightgown was tugged over my head, and I was sandwiched between sheets that smelled of oranges and basil. Between one blink and another, I was asleep.
It was almost impossible for me to sort out the days. At some time Charlotte showed up, her concerned face floating into my waking dreams.
“You need to get up and move around. Drink a lot of water. To get the drugs out of your system.”
I nodded my head obediently, my thoughts still floating above my body. With Charlotte grabbing one arm and Anne-Marie the other, they pulled me to standing and made me walk the length of the room. My legs bent from under me, and without their support I would have fallen to the floor.
“Come on, Elinor, help us help you,” Charlotte begged and coaxed.
I tried, I really did, but the walk didn’t take long to wind me. Back under covers, a tray sitting on my lap, they force-fed me bone broth. After I spilled most of the stuff, Anne-Marie took the spoon from my hands and worked on getting me to take it.
Sleep, eat, sleep, until eventually I was able to hold my own spoon, and I spent more time awake with a headache than asleep, knowing nothing.
Watching Charlotte, who was sitting in a chair near the window, reading, I asked, “Where am I? This isn’t the Crown.”
“It’s the duke’s town home. Hartwood.”
“Why am I not at the Crown?”
“He didn’t trust you to be protected at the Crown. That’s what he told me. After all that’s happened, I’m not surprised that he’s being careful.”
“What do you mean?”
She set aside her book and gave me her full attention. “I was wondering how long it would take you to ask. Not a good sign that you weren’t curious about it all. Not the Elinor I know.”
She came over to where I was sitting up, mounds of pillows behind me. Instinctively, her hand went immediately to check my pulse. Looking at my own arm, I was surprised to see no wound, only a long white scar on my forearm. From the way it ached, I had expected to see a bandage.
“Tell me.”
“First, your kidnapper? Parnell Lafayette? Killed himself by leaping over the balcony at the sanitarium right after they found you. Or at least that’s what Sergeant Dupont says is what he saw happen. He was standing over Lafayette when Barbier found them.”
“You don’t think Barbier is covering things up? Tristan didn’t—?”
“No. Your apprentice swears they left Lafayette alive on the first floor with two broken fingers and a sore head, but that was it.”
“What about that woman who told them where I was?”
“Gone. Vanished. No one can find her.”
My head hurt too much to figure it all out. “Go on. What else did Twyla not tell me?”
“Everyone’s guess is that Lafayette couldn’t take the disgrace. Doing the autopsy, I found his body riddled with disease. He didn’t have much longer to live. The Morpheus Society disavows him, and Madame Granger is cleaning house with a vengeance. Seems the old lady can stir herself when required, especially when she fears the king might dissolve her mystical group if action isn’t taken.”
“What about Parnell’s research? Surely he left notes.”
“Inspector Barbier found burned papers in the fireplace grate of his office. Could be Lafayette destroyed them, or one of his employees didn’t want to be blamed for keeping a noblewoman against her will. I suspect it was that woman at the sanatorium. Whoever did it, they conducted a clean sweep through his office and home.”
“And Ebbe?” I asked faintly.
From her expression, I knew the news would be bad. “She’s awake, Elinor. But I don’t think she’ll regain her mind. Lady Losendahl takes simple commands and is obedient to whatever you ask, like a child, but the spark of independence? Intelligence? I don’t see it. Her parents hold out hope, though, and maybe time will heal her.”
I sighed. She was one of the things I had lost. The other was my faith in the Morpheus Society— along with part of my soul. I wasn’t sure which hurt the most.
“Thank you, Charlotte.”
“Think nothing of it. Besides, it gets me out of the morgue.”
As I gained more strength, it became inevitable that I would eventually have a meeting with the Duke de Archambeau. I had graduated from the bed and was sitting in the conservatory when he arrived, unannounced.
He sat down next to me, and I said what was expected. “I want to thank you—”
Tristan cut me off. “Your rescue is down to your own actions.”
I bowed my head in contrite agreement. “I think you played a part in it.”
Wondering what else I could say that wasn’t about Lafayette or Tristan’s murdered wife, I asked, “When is your family returning?”
“In another week.”
“I wanted you to know I’ve made arrangements for other accommodations. Charlotte has arranged a rest cure with a doctor friend of hers.”
“Hm.” His face was inscrutable. What he was thinking, I could not guess.
I set my book aside on the table. It had not been holding my attention, anyway.
He reached into an inner pocket and withdrew a soft brown leather pouch. “I have something for you to see that I think will interest you.”
I reached out my hand, but he dropped the pouch into my lap instead. Loosening the drawstring, I shook out the contents, and out poured a collection of sparkling gems. My hands couldn’t help themselves; they caressed the precious gemstones.
“Spoils from that case I am working. They were found in a blackmailer’s safe.”
My mind leapt to the only blackmailer I knew. “Lord Buckard?”
“No. But it was someone known to him. Remember my master criminal?”
