Page 21 of Unforeseen Affairs
That anger seethed throughout Mr. Bass’s pandering performance, begging her to act. But what was there to be done? Mrs. Stone, who possessed a true gift—not just sleight of handand a bag of tricks—sat not far from her, quiet and still. If she thought it best to stay silent, Charlotte must follow suit, no matter how frustrating.
Finally, when Mr. Bass “returned” to his regular height, he spoke once more, scarcely suppressing the prideful expression on his face.
“The spirit is gratified by your faith.”
Charlotte snorted.
Thankfully, no one seemed to hear. Except, perhaps, Sir Colin, who glanced at her, looking perplexed.
“He would like to impart—”
“It’s a he?” Mrs. Gearing cut in hopefully.
After a pause, Mr. Bass nodded. “Yes. He’s… why… he was a fire-worshipper, he says. From the far, mysterious East…”
There was a collective rumble of excitement from the assembled.
Charlotte had spent countless afternoons in her father’s library, poring over encyclopedias, almanacs, and travel diaries of all sorts, including the prized bestiary he kept in a glass case under lock and key; she had become quite adept at picking the lock with a hairpin and returning the book when she’d finished. She made no claim to expertise, but across hundreds of tomes and tens of thousands of pages adorned with maps, stippled images of vases and temples, colored photographs of people in native dress, and detailed written accounts of all of it, she’d never come across a word about fire-worshippers.
“Awful bit of humbug,” she breathed to herself.
“Sorry, what?” whispered Sir Colin, leaning closer so he might hear.
It might have been unintentional, but he clasped her hand tighter as he did so.
“There’s no spirit,” she hissed, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
“Oh,” Sir Colin replied, unconvinced.
“The spirit has provided me with an image,” said Mr. Bass.
The table went deathly quiet.
“It’s… hmm. I can see it, just about make it out…” With his eyes closed, Mr. Bass threw his head back, making a good show of his supposed struggle. “It’s shrouded in a mist… are those perhaps… yes, they’re sails. Sails of a ship.”
What a painfully obvious guess, Charlotte thought, stifling a sigh. The two families present were so zealous in their devotion to the Royal Navy that salt water practically oozed from their pores.
Hushed murmurs rose from around the table, growing in volume as the sitters’ excitement got the best of them.
“The spirit wishes to speak of something significant, something important… once more they are showing me the sails, and… there’s something in the clouds above them… a symbol, perhaps? Oh, a letter. Ah—anA. The letterA.” Mr. Bass relaxed slightly and opened his eyes, glancing about the table. “Does this mean anything to anyone?”
“Abdon!” Mrs. Pearce called out excitedly, looking back and forth from Mr. Bass to Sir Colin’s friend, the one whom Charlotte had assumed to be Miss Pearce’s brother and, as followed from that, Mrs. Pearce’s son.
“Beaky?” Sir Colin said, baffled.
“Beaky?!” Miss Pearce echoed, equally dubious.
The young man in question looked as confused as any of them, but quickly tempered his surprise with a smug grin. Charlotte did not care for the expression.
“What could be exciting aboutyou?” Miss Pearce addressed her brother with a snort. “My name is Alice, after all—I daresay the spirit could be referring to me!”
“Tell me, sister dear, when was your last voyage under the mast?” Lieutenant Pearce taunted.
“But what does it mean?” Mrs. Gearing pressed, her voice strained as she ignored the two bickering siblings.
Charlotte felt a twist of sympathy for her. She knew Mrs. Gearing’s disappointment only too well, after years of hoping in vain for a sign of her own.
But Charlotte had faith in Mrs. Stone, despite the fact that she had never made contact with her mother. If only Mrs. Gearing hadn’t cast her aside in favor of Mr. Bass and his contrived stunts and loud clothing, then perhaps they would all be witnessing something truly awe-inspiring right now.
