And yet she was unsettled.
Ogden had taken them to Dulwich today. The church was small, but there was a spiritual aspector present regardless, one so young he had to be an intermediate magician, at best. He couldn’t even grow a beard yet, Elsie was sure. Then again, the baron in The Curse of the Ruby certainly didn’t have one.
At least she needn’t worry about unwanted blessing spells.
She shut her hymnal and set it on her knees. Ogden was tracing crooked stars on his leg. Emmeline looked ready to fall asleep, the quartz-tipped pin stuck through her collar.
Elsie pinched her, causing her to choke on a little gasp, then handed her the hymnal. Usually, Elsie gushed about the story to Emmeline at night, once their hair was unpinned and their dresses put away, but she simply couldn’t concentrate this week. Poor Emmeline had been pining to know what happened next. She couldn’t read terribly well, but she could read well enough. When she looked down at the sneaky novel reader, she smiled and turned back to its first page.
She’d gotten to page 7 by the time the sermon ended and the congregation filed out. There were a good deal of gentlemen and ladies present, wearing their ultrafine clothing, waving themselves with cloth fans, though it wasn’t even June yet. Ogden had found an old comrade or some such to chat with, and Emmeline remained perched on her seat, engrossed in the magazine, so Elsie pushed past all the well-to-dos, out into the early-afternoon sunlight.
Stretching her arms overhead, she started down the street, wanting to stretch her legs before being sausaged back into the cab. She heard chatter around her about a recent ball, a hunting party, and a vote for something. Oddly enough, Elsie didn’t want to hear the gossip today. And so she strolled to the edge of the street, where it opened onto a small park. She circled the park, admiring the trees, before heading back. Most likely, neither Ogden nor Emmeline had noticed her absence yet.
A plump woman on the other side of the road tripped on a raised cobblestone, spilling the stack of books, papers, and ledgers in her arms. Quickly crossing, Elsie hurried over to help.
“Oh, thank you, dear,” the woman said as Elsie handed her a parchment scrawled with diagrams.
Elsie paused. “Master Merton?”
Master Lily Merton glanced up. “Oh! What are the chances, us running into each other again! Only this time I’m the one tripping.”
Elsie handed her a ledger. “You should have a manservant with you to carry these things.”
“Oh, no, I can’t stand the sound of people while I work, even bustling servants. Emma, would you hand me that?” She pointed to a fallen pencil.
“Elsie,” Elsie gently corrected, snatching up the pencil.
“Oh goodness, I knew that.” She stood, and Elsie helped her, ensuring nothing else tumbled off the stack. “Well, it’s still nice to run into a familiar face!”
“Are you not from Dulwich?” Elsie asked.
The older woman shook her head. “No, not at all.” She frowned. “Oh, my dear Miss . . . it was Camden, right?”
Elsie nodded.
Master Merton let out a breath that made her cheeks sag. “The atheneum just let go three of its acolytes. We’ve such a mess on our hands.” Leaning forward, she added, “And that is putting it mildly.”
“The atheneum terminated their contracts?” Elsie asked, unable to quell her curiosity.
“They’re with the bobbies now,” she said, using the nickname for the police force. Again lowering her voice, she added, “Suspected of having stolen or lost opuses. A few of them have been missing for some time. Now the rest of us, the elderly included, are having to step up and fill their spaces. I’ve been to two churches already today, and I have a paper I need to finish.” She jerked her chin toward her abundant research. “I feel it in my hips already and it isn’t even luncheon. Pah!”
“I’m terribly sorry.” Elsie glanced at the ledgers. “The atheneum is missing opuses?” It was her understanding the spellbooks were kept locked away behind secret doors, so even the sneakiest thieves couldn’t find them.
Master Merton shook her head, her short curls dancing around her ears. “Don’t repeat that, please.”
“But there’s been a lot of activity with opuses lately.” Elsie matched the aspector’s volume. “I’ve heard of . . . murders.”
Master Merton nodded, grim. “Oh yes. It’s not related, of course. A couple of our foolhardy acolytes decided to cause some trouble or tripped their way into it.” She clicked her tongue. “I don’t like reading or hearing the news, my dear. It’s too dreadful. How can a person be cheerful when bogged down with all of that?”
Elsie’s stomach tightened. “Of course. Where are you headed? Let me help you.”
“Oh no, I’m just down this way, really. I imagine you need to get back to your family.”
A pang hit her chest. “I do.”
The smile returned. Cheerfulness did suit Master Merton better than worry. “Thank you, dear. Pass my regards to the duke’s family for me.”
I don’t think I’ll be seeing them again. But she nodded.
When she returned to the church, Ogden and Emmeline were waiting outside for her, Ogden checking his silver pocket watch.
“Sorry,” Elsie said upon reaching them, “I went for a stroll and had to gather a library’s worth of material for an acquaintance who’d dropped it.”
Ogden nodded. “Fair enough. I’m eager for luncheon. Shall we?”
He offered his arms to Emmeline and Elsie. Pinching a smile, Elsie took his left and let her employer lead them toward a cab for hire. Family, Master Merton had called them. They were, in a sense. But truth be told, were Emmeline to procure another position, or get married, she’d have no real reason to keep in touch—Emmeline had her own family. Three sisters and both parents. Even Ogden had relations. No children, and his parents were deceased, but he had a smattering of nieces and nephews he saw at Christmastime. Sometimes with Elsie in tow, sometimes without. Because while Ogden really was like a father to her, he wasn’t her father. He and his family had no true obligation to her.
The ride home was uneventful, especially since Emmeline had now thoroughly engrossed herself in the novel reader and did not come up for air until they arrived in Brookley. Only once they were inside did Emmeline hand the story back and grab her apron.
Elsie watched her, bemused. “What are you smiling about?”
The maid giggled. “There’s kissing.”
Elsie blinked and opened the magazine, trying to guess what page Emmeline had left off on. Kissing? How scandalous!
Her ears heated, which was, of course, foolish. She’d been kissed before, though that had been some time ago.
Horse hooves sounded outside, but Elsie didn’t pay them much mind. She tucked the novel reader away and grabbed a second apron. “Let me help you. I’m famished.” And need to occupy myself.
“Just cold cuts and potatoes, I think.” Emmeline had a peeler in her hand. “Could you set water on the stove?”
Elsie grabbed a pot and filled it at the pump sink, set it on the stove, and stoked the fire. “I might eat them raw at this point.”
Emmeline snickered. “Won’t take too long, not if I cut them extra small.”
A knock sounded on the front door.
“Emmeline!” Ogden yelled from upstairs. He always went straight upstairs after church. He hated his formal attire.
“I’ll get it.” Taking off her apron and wiping her hands on it, Elsie hurried to the studio. It was Sunday, so the front door was locked, but on occasion a visitor still popped by. Ogden might have invited someone for tea. Elsie stashed the apron under the counter before coming around to unbolt the door.
Bacchus Kelsey stood on the other side.
CHAPTER 14
