lenses of her spectacles, her unusual amber eyes were shadowed with concern. “But I still can’t believe that you came so close to being arrested for murder.”
“I expect that I will have nightmares about waking up next to Hollister’s body for some time,” Virginia said.
Charlotte set the pot down. “I don’t want to even think about what might have happened if Mr. Sweetwater had not come along when he did. You would likely never have escaped from that mirrored chamber, let alone figured out how to rescue the girl from that underground cell.”
“It’s true, I do lack lock-picking skills,” Virginia said. “Perhaps I will ask Mr. Sweetwater to teach them to me. He was very adept, I must say.”
They were sitting at the small table in the back room of Charlotte’s bookshop. Charlotte had inherited the shop from her mother, who had, in turn, received it from her mother. The women of Charlotte’s family had a true talent for locating ancient and rare books and manuscripts linked to the paranormal.
The bookshop did not stock the latest sensation novels or penny dreadfuls. The weighty, leather-bound tomes on the shelves ranged from archaic treatises on ancient Egyptian, Indian and Greek theories of the paranormal to journals devoted to the investigations of modern researchers. In between there were medieval works on metaphysics and Newton’s speculations on alchemy.
Three of the shelves in the shop contained an extensive collection of the Journal of Paranormal and Psychical Research, the Arcane Society’s official publication. There were, however, no copies of the Leybrook Institute’s own very popular Leybrook Journal of Paranormal Investigations. Unfortunately, the Institute’s publication was replete with papers that bore titles such as “An Investigation of the Usefulness of Certain Musical Instruments in the Summoning of Spirits” and “A Study of Levitation and Astral Travel.” In other words, Virginia thought, Leybrook published a great deal of fiction. But as Gilmore Leybrook had explained, the Institute’s Journal sold far more copies than Arcane’s decidedly more esoteric publication.
“Lock-picking is no doubt a useful ability for a man in Mr. Sweetwater’s profession,” Charlotte said. She frowned. “I certainly didn’t turn up any information about psychical talent in the bloodline when I looked into Mr. Sweetwater’s background for you a couple of weeks ago.”
“Something tells me the Sweetwater family keeps a lot of secrets.”
Shortly after Owen Sweetwater had embarked upon his investigations of Leybrook Institute mediums, Virginia’s intuition had been aroused. She had asked Charlotte to see what she could find out about the dangerous newcomer in their midst. When it came to research, no one was more talented than Charlotte. It was an aspect of her ability.
“I’ll dig deeper and see what I can learn,” Charlotte said. “All I could discover for certain is that the family is an old, established one with a reputation for being reclusive. Evidently the Sweetwaters rarely go into society, although with their money and connections they could probably do so if they wished.”
“The Sweetwaters appear to have a few things in common with the Joneses,” Virginia said. “That no doubt explains why they are doing business together.”
“A very odd business it is, if you ask me. I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if you had been found in that room with Hollister’s body.”
“Ah, but there was no murder.” Virginia glanced at the copy of the Flying Intelligencer on the table. “According to the morning papers, Lord Hollister expired from natural causes.”
“Right, a heart attack. Obviously someone had to come up with a different version of events when it was discovered that you had departed from the scene. Imagine overlooking a knife wound in a man’s chest.”
“It’s amazing what can be covered up by a wealthy, exclusive
“I expect that I will have nightmares about waking up next to Hollister’s body for some time,” Virginia said.
Charlotte set the pot down. “I don’t want to even think about what might have happened if Mr. Sweetwater had not come along when he did. You would likely never have escaped from that mirrored chamber, let alone figured out how to rescue the girl from that underground cell.”
“It’s true, I do lack lock-picking skills,” Virginia said. “Perhaps I will ask Mr. Sweetwater to teach them to me. He was very adept, I must say.”
They were sitting at the small table in the back room of Charlotte’s bookshop. Charlotte had inherited the shop from her mother, who had, in turn, received it from her mother. The women of Charlotte’s family had a true talent for locating ancient and rare books and manuscripts linked to the paranormal.
The bookshop did not stock the latest sensation novels or penny dreadfuls. The weighty, leather-bound tomes on the shelves ranged from archaic treatises on ancient Egyptian, Indian and Greek theories of the paranormal to journals devoted to the investigations of modern researchers. In between there were medieval works on metaphysics and Newton’s speculations on alchemy.
Three of the shelves in the shop contained an extensive collection of the Journal of Paranormal and Psychical Research, the Arcane Society’s official publication. There were, however, no copies of the Leybrook Institute’s own very popular Leybrook Journal of Paranormal Investigations. Unfortunately, the Institute’s publication was replete with papers that bore titles such as “An Investigation of the Usefulness of Certain Musical Instruments in the Summoning of Spirits” and “A Study of Levitation and Astral Travel.” In other words, Virginia thought, Leybrook published a great deal of fiction. But as Gilmore Leybrook had explained, the Institute’s Journal sold far more copies than Arcane’s decidedly more esoteric publication.
“Lock-picking is no doubt a useful ability for a man in Mr. Sweetwater’s profession,” Charlotte said. She frowned. “I certainly didn’t turn up any information about psychical talent in the bloodline when I looked into Mr. Sweetwater’s background for you a couple of weeks ago.”
“Something tells me the Sweetwater family keeps a lot of secrets.”
Shortly after Owen Sweetwater had embarked upon his investigations of Leybrook Institute mediums, Virginia’s intuition had been aroused. She had asked Charlotte to see what she could find out about the dangerous newcomer in their midst. When it came to research, no one was more talented than Charlotte. It was an aspect of her ability.
“I’ll dig deeper and see what I can learn,” Charlotte said. “All I could discover for certain is that the family is an old, established one with a reputation for being reclusive. Evidently the Sweetwaters rarely go into society, although with their money and connections they could probably do so if they wished.”
“The Sweetwaters appear to have a few things in common with the Joneses,” Virginia said. “That no doubt explains why they are doing business together.”
“A very odd business it is, if you ask me. I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if you had been found in that room with Hollister’s body.”
“Ah, but there was no murder.” Virginia glanced at the copy of the Flying Intelligencer on the table. “According to the morning papers, Lord Hollister expired from natural causes.”
“Right, a heart attack. Obviously someone had to come up with a different version of events when it was discovered that you had departed from the scene. Imagine overlooking a knife wound in a man’s chest.”
“It’s amazing what can be covered up by a wealthy, exclusive
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