Page 20 of Unforeseen Affairs
No matter how much he willed it, no other sound followed.
“A no,” he heard his mother whisper from across the table.
Miss Sedley gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
He realized he’d been holding himself so tight, with his shoulders hunched up, his jaw clenched, and the skin of his forehead somehow stretched beyond comfort. Colin released a breath.
Bernard was not present.
He hadn’t truly expected to speak with his brother, and yet somehow he was disappointed. Funny, that. How had he been taken in so quickly? No doubt Miss Sedley was correct; it must be wires.
“I feel a formidable urge…” Mr. Bass shut his eyes tight, as if he were trying to hear something far in the distance. “A desire,a wish from the spirit to prove itself, to beg your faith and understanding.”
Colin heard Mrs. Stone sigh loudly at his side.
And then the table began to quiver. It took a moment to register in his mind what exactly was happening, for notion of a large, heavy piece of furniture rattling of its own volition was far outside the bounds of logic. But then it began to heave itself about in a slow, lurching fashion. Rotating clockwise.
Immediately and without thinking, Colin flung his arms onto the table before Miss Sedley and Mrs. Stone and pushed his chair back.
“Please, fear not!” cried Mr. Bass. “And on no account should you leave your places!”
Colin’s heart raced. With arms still outstretched, he gaped at the table.
In the faint light the purple cloth swayed back and forth, waving hypnotically in the wake of the table’s ceased movement, before finally coming to rest. Colin couldn’t say how far the table had twisted itself—ten degrees? Thirty? He only knew there could be no possible way a thin, weak-limbed man such as Mr. Bass had moved it himself using only wires.
A chorus of stifled gasps and cries of amazement echoed his own thoughts.
Mr. Bass took a deep breath, his eyes closed in concentration.
Could he really be a true clairvoyant?
Chapter Six
Afterthefabricatedtable-turning,Charlotte was forced to endure further acts of pandering. First, Captain Pearce’s handkerchief appeared in the center of the table, tied in a knot.
“Why, it was in my breast pocket only moments ago!” the dumbfounded, formerly stern-looking man had exclaimed, which was followed by Mrs. Pearce declaring that no maid was to launder the spectacular handkerchief ever again.
Then, in case two sensational acts were not enough for the supposed spirit to prove its sincere desire to answer the questions to be put forth by this odd collection of people, it proceeded to “enter” Mr. Bass, causing his body to elongate.
The group, save Charlotte and Mrs. Stone, was astonished.
Charlotte knew that Mr. Bass was simply holding his body rigid like a board, while using the tablecloth to conceal the fact that there was less of him still under the table than it appeared at first glance. It was possible he was also wearing trousers specially rigged by a tailor for this one trick.
She imagined how delicious it would be to expose the man in the midst of such duplicity.
Even after all that, though, she reckoned he only appeared to be two or three inches taller. But the others, she knew, could be counted on to embellish the truth with every recounting of the story, until word traveled through the social circles of the Navy that Mr. Bass had grown a full two feet taller before their eyes. For that was the magic of stagecraft. Clever costumes and face paint, concealed ropes and trapdoors, set pieces painted upon scrims… there were any number of ways a troupe could captivate an audience.
Here, though, there was only Mr. Bass.
No, that was not true. Charlotte looked about the room to the extent she could without moving her head, trying to spot Mr. Trenwith somewhere in the shadows, but she did not see him. No doubt he played a role in these illusions.
She then tilted her head slightly to the side, glancing surreptitiously at Sir Colin.
Despite her efforts to pull the curtain back for him, the young man still appeared quite taken by the act.
It would be good fun to sit here silently and watch the delight these poor souls took in allowing themselves to be duped, were it not for Sir Colin and his mother’s obvious desire for a sign from Bernard. Something that provided evidence of the immortality of the soul, proof that departed loved ones were never truly gone.
As someone who longed to receive such a sign from her own mother, the fact that fakes like Thaddeus Taggart Bass would prey on that emotion to produce such ridiculous parlor tricks infuriated her so.
