shoulder made a popping noise.
âPlease join us,â Ned said, pulling out a chair right next to his.
âYes, do,â added Amanda from across the table. She let her gaze wander up and down the length of my gown as if trying to memorize the details in order to forbid her dressmaker from creating something remotely similar. I looked to my aunt, hoping she would require my presence at her own table but she just wavedme into the offered seat and turned her attention to a woman carrying a steaming tray of food. âHonoria did not tell us your discipline. Is it by any chance the ability to time travel?â Amanda looked pointedly at my dress once more and I felt determined not to let the pleasure of wearing it dim. I called upon my years of showmanship and gave her the brightest smile I could muster as Ned pushed my chair up to the table.
âIf only such a thing were possible. Have you read
The Time Machine
?â For all his faults Father believed in education. Since formal schooling did not exist on the road he made an effort to provide me with a constant supply of books in a wide range of topics. While I wished I could boast of a love of poetry and classics, the truth was my taste ran decidedly to the far more sensational works of H. G. Wells and Arthur Conan Doyle.
âAs serious students of the higher realms Ned and I have no time or inclination for such frivolities.â I looked over at Ned, who shifted in his chair and pleated his napkin with long fingers. He met my eyes and gave the slightest of shrugs, which I took as an apology.
âI am sure my aunt is glad to have such devoted members of her ensemble. What exactly does each of you do? I am unfamiliar with the terms
numerologist
and
psychometrist
.â I directed my question to Ned, who cut Amanda off as she began to reply.
âI study the relationships between numbers and events, personalities, and life paths. It is an ancient science with predictive capabilities. Perhaps tomorrow I could conduct a reading for you?â Before I could answer I felt a sharp blow to my shin. Assuming the kick was intended for Ned, I ignored it and answered as I wished.
âHow generous. Have you time right after breakfast?â I asked.
âHe does not. Ned helps me in the mornings with my token reading practice,â Amanda said. âIsnât that right?â She turned to Ned.
âI cannot see why you insist on me putting you through practice readings every day. Youâre more than prepared for the guests to arrive.â From Amandaâs behavior and the scorching scowl she gave me it was clear to me why she insisted on Nedâs attentions. I wondered if he was being deliberately dimwitted.
âI shouldnât like to disturb a psychometry routine, whatever it may be,â I said. After all, Amanda may not have seemed interested in befriending me but there was no reason to antagonize her unnecessarily. The young woman with the heavy tray arrived at our table and sat a plate in front of each of us. As I looked at the offering of tender greens, a heaping mound of mashed potatoes, and a portion of fish in a creamy sauce I realized I was famished.
âPsychometry is the challenging art of reading the energy of objects by touching them,â she said.
âWhat sort of objects?â I asked.
âPersonal possessions held close to the body like jewelry or even spectacles conduct information the most readily. But under the right circumstances I could read just about anything.â
âWhy do people ask for this service?â I asked.
âBecause the people who appear in our lives arenât always exactly who or what they claim to be. Clients rely on me to help them to uncover harmful secrets. Iâd be happy to do a reading for you if youâd like.â Amanda gave me the first genuine smile I had seen from her, then snapped her large white teeth down on a forkful of beet greens. âThat is, unless
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