I am certain that becoming a necromancer would not solve any difficulties between myself and my chronicler husband. As I understand it, the Order is not allowed to meddle in necromancer affairs.”
“Quite right, Mrs. Black. In fact, your friend Simon St. Jerome was censured quite severely for his actions in killing Mr. Farrell.”
Startled, I took a step back, and the councilwoman smiled slyly.
“He did not mention the trial to you?” she asked, and I shook my head numbly. “It was the social sensation that year.”
A trial …as angry as I often was with Simon, it was easy to forget that he had saved my life that night, and Michael’s life as well. I had no idea he had been in trouble for his actions. Did Michael know? Surely he must, being Simon’s apprentice. Had they both conspired to keep the truth from me? Simon probably believed it wasn’t important for me to know…
“Perhaps you should ask him about it when next you see him. In the meantime, I suggest you take some time to think about becoming a necromancer. Exceptions could be made for your unique situation, particularly if you allied yourself with the right mentor. Such as myself.” Lady Brigid smiled again, and I didn’t find the expression pleasant. In fact, with the veil covering her eyes it was rather disconcerting. “Oh, and please tell Miss Dubois that I would be glad to aid in her investigation in any way that I am able. My two colleagues are not enlightened enough to willingly offer help to a female guardian, but I would be happy to.”
“Thank you, my lady.” It seemed the right thing to say, though I wasn’t sure of the proper way to address her. She waved a hand and dismissed me, and I retreated from the room.
“What did she want?” Miss Dubois asked the moment I rejoined her and Dr. Bennett.
“Merely to talk. The hour is growing late. I think it would be best if we all retired for the evening.”
“Of course,” she agreed. I knew she would ask again once we were safely away in the carriage, and I did not mind that. At the moment I wanted to be far away from the necromancers and their “celebration”.
Miss Dubois led us out of the brothel, and though I tried to keep my focus on the guardian’s back I found my gaze tempted away to the goings-on around us. How could Lady Brigid believe that I, a respectable wife and mother, would ever willingly join an organization that thought an orgy was an appropriate way to celebrate Midsummer? Perhaps she didn’t approve of their actions. Perhaps she was different from the rest of her necromancer brethren. Even so, it was a ridiculous idea, and I refused to let it distract me further.
“The council is afraid,” I announced upon our arrival within the carriage.
“Afraid?” Miss Dubois repeated.
I nodded. “Very much so. They fear that the killer is a master necromancer who is outside of their community, and as such his—or her—crimes will continue to damage their reputation, and they are powerless to stop that.”
Dr. Bennett snorted. “It is difficult to believe that they are concerned about their reputation after a display like that.”
“Agreed. However, Lady Brigid did offer to aid you in any way she could, Miss Dubois.”
“That may come in handy. What did she speak with you about?”
“She wanted to recruit me. I politely declined.” I smiled dryly. “What is our next step?”
“I will arrange for you and I to attend the next poetry salon that Mrs. Harding frequented. What name do you publish under?” Miss Dubois asked.
“E. M. Rose,” I replied.
When I returned home I attempted to go straight to my room but was waylaid at the foot of the stairs by Simon, who appeared out of the library as though sensing my arrival.
“Where have you been?” he demanded, but I waved a dismissive hand in his direction.
“That is none of your business.” I started up the stairs.
Simon grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop, and I shivered at the icy touch of his
“Quite right, Mrs. Black. In fact, your friend Simon St. Jerome was censured quite severely for his actions in killing Mr. Farrell.”
Startled, I took a step back, and the councilwoman smiled slyly.
“He did not mention the trial to you?” she asked, and I shook my head numbly. “It was the social sensation that year.”
A trial …as angry as I often was with Simon, it was easy to forget that he had saved my life that night, and Michael’s life as well. I had no idea he had been in trouble for his actions. Did Michael know? Surely he must, being Simon’s apprentice. Had they both conspired to keep the truth from me? Simon probably believed it wasn’t important for me to know…
“Perhaps you should ask him about it when next you see him. In the meantime, I suggest you take some time to think about becoming a necromancer. Exceptions could be made for your unique situation, particularly if you allied yourself with the right mentor. Such as myself.” Lady Brigid smiled again, and I didn’t find the expression pleasant. In fact, with the veil covering her eyes it was rather disconcerting. “Oh, and please tell Miss Dubois that I would be glad to aid in her investigation in any way that I am able. My two colleagues are not enlightened enough to willingly offer help to a female guardian, but I would be happy to.”
“Thank you, my lady.” It seemed the right thing to say, though I wasn’t sure of the proper way to address her. She waved a hand and dismissed me, and I retreated from the room.
“What did she want?” Miss Dubois asked the moment I rejoined her and Dr. Bennett.
“Merely to talk. The hour is growing late. I think it would be best if we all retired for the evening.”
“Of course,” she agreed. I knew she would ask again once we were safely away in the carriage, and I did not mind that. At the moment I wanted to be far away from the necromancers and their “celebration”.
Miss Dubois led us out of the brothel, and though I tried to keep my focus on the guardian’s back I found my gaze tempted away to the goings-on around us. How could Lady Brigid believe that I, a respectable wife and mother, would ever willingly join an organization that thought an orgy was an appropriate way to celebrate Midsummer? Perhaps she didn’t approve of their actions. Perhaps she was different from the rest of her necromancer brethren. Even so, it was a ridiculous idea, and I refused to let it distract me further.
“The council is afraid,” I announced upon our arrival within the carriage.
“Afraid?” Miss Dubois repeated.
I nodded. “Very much so. They fear that the killer is a master necromancer who is outside of their community, and as such his—or her—crimes will continue to damage their reputation, and they are powerless to stop that.”
Dr. Bennett snorted. “It is difficult to believe that they are concerned about their reputation after a display like that.”
“Agreed. However, Lady Brigid did offer to aid you in any way she could, Miss Dubois.”
“That may come in handy. What did she speak with you about?”
“She wanted to recruit me. I politely declined.” I smiled dryly. “What is our next step?”
“I will arrange for you and I to attend the next poetry salon that Mrs. Harding frequented. What name do you publish under?” Miss Dubois asked.
“E. M. Rose,” I replied.
When I returned home I attempted to go straight to my room but was waylaid at the foot of the stairs by Simon, who appeared out of the library as though sensing my arrival.
“Where have you been?” he demanded, but I waved a dismissive hand in his direction.
“That is none of your business.” I started up the stairs.
Simon grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop, and I shivered at the icy touch of his
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