Chapter Twenty-Nine
Since the Ridlington family was so closely involved, Kitty had joined Letitia to provide support for Hecate, as Max and James took their seats in the library. She’d declared that not even wild horses would keep her at Mowbray House while something this momentous was happening.
Hecate’s visit earlier in the day had allowed her to plan out where she needed to be and also to make sure her chosen spot worked for what she had in mind.
The library itself was an enormous, book-lined room, with low shelves acting as dividers. There was a very large desk toward one end, and for this occasion, the chairs from around the room had been set up in two rows facing it.
One entire wall was filled with windows, several of which opened out onto a balcony overlooking a modest terrace and garden. Most were curtained, but the draperies were drawn back on a few, allowing the guests to see tiny snowflakes circling down to dust the parapets. Beneath the balcony was the ballroom, which ran almost the length of the house.
She’d met Sir Peregrine, a most charming and handsome man, with light touches of silver in his hair. His attitude toward her was one of friendly curiosity, and she was surprised to find herself promising to come and spend some time with him in the future so she could talk with him about her talents. He had been gently persuasive, and she felt the sincere interest radiating from him as he asked for her promise.
He was already seated in the front row, since he would be acting as the master of ceremonies.
Several other gentlemen had arrived, others stood in the hall, shaking the light dusting of snow from their coats.
Hecate, Kitty and Letitia watched from the upper floor, all but hidden in the shadows.
A final guest…and Letitia nudged her sisters. “I think that’s him,” she whispered.
Hecate stared.
He was shorter than she imagined; and more rotund. In fact, he looked like exactly what he was. An overfed and indulged member of the Ton. His cloak was lined with fur, his clothing tailored to his generous proportions, and diamonds sparkled from his neckcloth and his hands.
It was clear that his attitude was both dismissive and curt, since he walked away from the servants without a word of thanks. Striding into the library, Hecate saw him lift his chin, a man secure in the knowledge that he was above everyone else in the room. At least in his own mind.
Once he had left the hall, the three women tiptoed down the stairs. Hecate knew where she had to be, and slipped silently to the chair standing next to the library wall. Ahead of her was the door, which would remain open.
Finn, who had been lurking in the kitchens—and probably managing to sweet-talk the cook into parting with some of her raspberry tartlets—would approach the same door from the far side of the hall. She would see him at that point.
But there was some time to go before that happened. She closed her eyes and focussed on what she could hear.
James was welcoming everyone to his home and offering refreshment for after the talk. Then he touched on the topic and introduced Perry.
Hecate saw a door open and close and then Finn was there, ready, just out of sight of anyone in the room. If he took a step forward, however, the person standing at the desk would be able to see him. The candles were on the other side of the library and the chandeliers at either end. So although it was well lit, the doorway was shadowed. If all the hall candles had been lit, then there would have been bright light everywhere.
But not tonight. This particular night needed those shadows.
Perry was winding up his introduction. “So thank you all for bringing your interest, your knowledge and your experience to this discussion, gentlemen. I’m sure it will be a stimulating evening for all of us.” He looked at his notes. “I think we should ask Lord Faversill to kick things off, don’t you? He’s a decorated Waterloo veteran, and is now building what might well become the best stud in the country. So I can’t think of anyone better qualified…Lord Faversill? If you would be so kind…”
Hecate envisioned the man standing up with a chest like a pouter pigeon, striding to the desk and harrumphing. She could actually hear him clearing his throat.
But before he could speak, Perry asked a question.
“Waterloo, Lord Faversill. Could you start with a word or two about the battle? I’m sure we’d all appreciate your reminiscences…”
“Oh…I…er well, all right.”
Faversill’s voice was as bland as could be; he launched into a recital that sounded so smooth it didn’t take any of Hecate’s extra abilities to decide it had been carefully rehearsed.
But then James stopped him and asked a question…and then another, touching upon the artillery and the response of their mounts to the sound.
Faversill blustered a little on that one, floundering for generalities wherever possible.
Yes, they’re rattling him.
One of the other guests also asked about the artillery, unwittingly leading the conversation even further down the desired path.
At last Max asked about the Prussians. “And you were right there, weren’t you? At least from what I heard, Lord Faversill, your men were fired upon by mistake. You must have been distraught, the guns, the noise, seeing your men falling around you…”
“I…stop…no…I can’t…”
The man was now beside himself, stuttering, unable to finish a sentence.
“Shooting everywhere…so many dead around you, my Lord, and by the hands of your allies. Why you might just as well have shot your men yourself…” Perry delivered the final blow.
Finn stepped forward, the buttons on his borrowed uniform gleaming dully in the low light, knowing that he was in the shadows and the only man who could see him was Faversill, standing behind the desk and in the perfect position to look out the door.
Hecate picked up the little picture she’d held in her lap, looked once more at the young man’s face, and then stared at Finn, pulling on forces within her to affect a transformation so stunning…
“No…no…no…Jesus Christ…”
She held her focus in spite of the shrill scream from Faversill.
“It can’t be you… You’re dead…”
Hecate continued to maintain the illusion, knowing that instead of Finn, Faversill was seeing Johnny Marchville. Or perhaps he thought it was his ghost. She clenched her teeth, drawing on every ounce of energy she could summon.
“You can’t be here, Marchville…I shot you, dammit. I saw you fall…I killed you.” Faversill cried out the words and they echoed throughout the hall.
Hecate added a final touch—a bloom of blood on the front of the uniform. She hoped it would suffice because her vision was blurring now…
“No, no, no, nooooo…” The scream rang through the house.
There was a sudden sound—voices shouting—a massive crash...and then silence.
Hecate slumped in her chair, releasing the vision, letting go of the illusion that had turned Finn Casey into Johnny Marchville’s likeness.
It was done.
*~~*~~*
“Hecate, can you hear me?” Finn was beside himself with terror. “Hecate…”
He’d felt the transformation, like thick jelly sliding all over his face. It was the strangest sensation, but thankfully he didn’t have to endure it for too long.
As soon as it was over, he rushed to her side, but she was still, unmoving, sprawled awkwardly in the chair.
“Up here, Finn. Bring her upstairs.” Letitia shouted down over the bannister.
He did as he was bid, picking her up and carrying her to Letitia who showed him into a guest room. “On the bed with her.”
“She’s alive. I can feel her breathing,” he stuttered, “she’s alive, Letitia.”
“I know, dear. Just put her down and we’ll see what’s going on.”
The practicality in her tone eased Finn’s mind a little and he obeyed, staying close as Letitia made her sister comfortable.
“Not that I know much about these things, but her pulse is strong, so I would guess she’d just flat out drained herself.”
“I was afraid of this,” whispered Finn, stroking Hecate’s hair. “So afraid.”
There was a bustle at the door and Kitty ran in, followed by James and Max.
“How is she?” Kitty hurried to the bed and stood beside Finn.
“She’s unconscious right now,” said Letitia. “But she has a good pulse, and colour in her cheeks. We won’t know much more until she wakes up.”
“Hecate love. Please. You saved me. Don’t leave me now.” Finn leaned over and dropped a kiss on her lips.
Kitty sniffed, and Letitia turned away, not wishing to intrude on such an intimate moment.
“Don’t fuss, Finn.”
The faint sound of Hecate’s voice made them all jump.
Which was followed by whispers, shouts, screams and a well-hidden tear or two.
“I was rather tired,” said Hecate, trying to struggle up against the pillows.
Finn was there, helping her, his hands on her shoulders, her arms, her face. “You’re alive. Oh sweet Jesus Christ, Mother Mary and Saint Polycarp…thank you all.”
Max opened his mouth, but a look from Kitty shut it again.
“James,” said Hecate, accepting a glass of water from Letitia. “What happened?”
“Please tell us,” begged Kitty. “We were busy with Hecate here. We did hear a crash though…”
James gave a little shudder, which Finn realised was genuine.
“I have to say that was the strangest experience,” he began. “You all heard Faversill begin his lecture, and how we turned the conversation to Waterloo?”
“We did,” nodded Letitia. “That was really well done of you.”
“Thank you,” said a voice from the doorway. “I shall take credit for that idea.” Perry strolled in. “How’s our miracle worker?”
“She’s fine now,” beamed Finn. “Tired herself out though, she did.”
“I can imagine. I want that conversation with you even more now, Hecate.”
She smiled. “You shall have it, sir. And not just as repayment for this evening, although I can see where that might be necessary. But please…can you finish the story?”
Perry nodded. “He was wound up quite tightly by the time our late lamented Johnny made his appearance.” He glanced at Finn. “I could only see you from the side, but the transformation was quite astounding, even from that vantage point.”
“It worked, sir. That was the crucial test. Faversill believed it was Johnny.”
“Indeed he did,” continued Perry. “It was more than enough to push him into making some very unwise statements, none of which were taken well by our other guests. The crime that man committed was inexcusable to any man with military service in his past. I could feel the horror and disgust rise in the room as Faversill admitted what he’d done.”
“So what will happen to him now?” Letitia looked up.
“Nothing we need worry about,” answered James. “The shock of seeing Marchville sent him reeling. Literally. He couldn’t run through the door because you were there, so he ran for the window. Actually he ran through the window.”
“He didn’t know the house at all,” added Max. “Which was quite a shame.”
It was left to Perry to deliver the final details.
“He smashed through the glass onto the snow covered slabs of the balcony and his momentum had him skidding right into the parapet. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop himself. Over he went.” He paused dramatically. “He didn’t know there was a terrace underneath.”
“Oh dear,” said Kitty. “That must have left rather a mess, wouldn’t you think?”
Max nodded. “I’m sure it did. But I still have one question.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Who the blazes is Saint Polycarp?”