Her Ladyship had promised her instruction in playing upon the pianoforte, which seemed an odd way to prepare the girl for her future.
It was only on the third day of their residence at the Refuge that Lady Hartwood finally summoned Temperance into her office. By now, their benefactress had been given ample opportunity to learn all she needed to know about Temperance’s character, both from direct observation and from questioning the other girls when she’d got them alone to tell their fortunes. So, as she entered her benefactress’s office, Temperance prepared to enjoy an entertaining session. The birth date she had given Her Ladyship was accurate—it just wasn’t her own. She couldn’t wait to hear Her Ladyship reveal herself to be a fraud.
She found Lady Hartwood seated in front of a small desk heaped with papers, books, and a tall pile of leaflets that proved on closer inspection to be almanacs of the kind used by farmers to choose the best time for planting. Some of her papers contained large circle divided into sections filled with numbers and symbols. These must be her horoscopes . They looked quite convincing, but it must be a hum. How could anyone know about another person’s character from nothing more than the hour of their birth?
She settled down for an entertaining session. Her Ladyship would soon find she had met her match.
But no sooner had she taken a seat than Lady Hartwood said, “Yours is an interesting nativity, but it puzzles me. For according to everything I’ve learned of the astrologer’s art, the person it describes should have died when she was three, and you are most definitely alive.” She favored Temperance with a steadfast gaze.
Temperance gasped. Could this woman really have found that out from a birth date?
“I’m not a fool, Temperance.” Lady Hartwood’s usually mild look had been replaced by one of great sternness. “Whose birth information did you give me, here?”
“My older sister’s.”
“And is she dead?”
She nodded. She’d died at three, a stainless angel against whose perfections her father had always compared Temperance’s more sinful nature.
Lady Hartwood put down the horoscope she had been holding. “You were testing me, weren’t you?”
Temperance bit her lip but said nothing.
“The whole pattern of your behavior suggests you must have been born when the Sun was in Scorpio, for those born under Scorpio’s influence are the most secretive of all the signs. They see every human interaction in terms of exerting power and resist giving away anything that might give another person power over them. They can’t help it. That is their nature, and it is exactly the way they are supposed to be, but it does make it exceedingly difficult to help them.” She put down the chart. “Were you, in fact, born in late October or November?”
Temperance felt a chill as the small woman fixed her with a gaze of unexpected intensity.
She was a Scorpio, and it was true she had no desire to have people know any more about her than they had to. But if Lady Hartwood really could read a person’s character from her charts, after one glance at Temperance’s real one, she’d know that lying was the least of the sins she was capable of. She considered giving her more false information, but why bother? Besides, when it was possible, she much preferred to tell the truth.
“I was born on the six and twentieth day of October in the year ’02,” she said. “At two in the afternoon. So now you can use that to get power over me, good luck to you. ”
“I have no wish to do so. My Sagittarian nature delights in instructing others, not controlling them.”
“Well, you’ve certainly instructed my friends to where they barely give me the time of day.”
“I see,” Lady Hartwood said. “What you perceive as their disloyalty must disturb you, for loyalty is what Scorpios value most. But your friends can be loyal to you without giving up the power of deciding their
Craig A. McDonough
Julia Bell
Jamie K. Schmidt
Lynn Ray Lewis
Lisa Hughey
Henry James
Sandra Jane Goddard
Tove Jansson
Vella Day
Donna Foote