Languish

  I nodded, running my fingertips over the cursive letters of Lady Jasper’s name. “It seems likely, doesn’t it?” My hand dropped back to my side. “But why attack Lord Jasper and not Lady Ashburnham? Why attack us in the village?”

  “We were in Jasper’s carriage,” Colin pointed. “Might be as simple as that.”

  “I suppose so.” I shook my head. “It’s rather rude of her.” But then ghosts, in my experience, never did have any manners. “Lord Jasper told me spirits can return to their burial ground,” I added. I didn’t mention that he’d suggested I rest and let them speak to me as they chose. “So this has as much chance of working as anything else we could try.”

  “I’d rather not play with that spirit board again,” Colin agreed. The last time we’d done that, an old woman with rats in her hair had pushed through his chest, nearly freezing his heart to a halt. I wasn’t eager to repeat the experience either.

  I sat down in front of the angel. If this were a séance, there would be others with me. We’d hold hands, sing Spiritualist songs, and then I would call the spirits out. If it were a séance with my mother, Colin and I would have prepared the sitting room beforehand. We’d have hidden vials of perfumes, set up bellows for cold drafts of air, and Colin would toss various powders to make the fire change colors. He’d crack the bones in his neck for spirit knocks. I’d rattle the table with the toe of my boot to speak for the spirits.

  But I wasn’t my mother.

  When I spoke to the dead, they really did speak back. Not terribly comforting, actually.

  I took a deep breath and tried to relax my vision, the way Lord Jasper had taught me. The spot between my eyes warmed up. I ignored it. I took salt from my pocket and sprinkled it into the valley my dress made between my knees.

  “Lady Jasper,” I said, willing my voice to sound confident. Colin moved to stand behind me, his knee brushing my shoulder. “Speak to us.”

  The grass stayed warm under me. A ladybug crawled across the angle’s wing.

  “Lady Jasper, you will speak to us now.”

  I listened, straining to hear any sound that didn’t belong.

  Nothing.

  Of course.

  “Oi!” I slapped the hem of the angel’s gown, abruptly out of patience. “You had something to say last night, so bloody well say it now!”

  A hot lance of fire speared through my head. It felt as though my eyeballs were burning. I clutched at my brow, moaning.

  “Violet!” Colin was down on his knees in front of me, kicking the angel with his boots. His hands closed over my shoulders. “Violet!”

  I pressed my palm to my third eye, as if I could seal it shut. I whimpered once. The pain finally faded enough that I could blink away the tears.

  Colin looked wild, his blue eyes desperate. “What happened?” He gathered me close before I could answer. His chest was warm and solid under my cheek. His hand stroked over my hair. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  I stayed in his arms, listening as the rapid beat of his heart slowed to normal. He kissed my forehead, where the pain finally abated.

  I smiled weakly. “Now I’m really cross with the old cow,” I said hoarsely. I pulled back, feeling pins and needles in my cramped legs. Colin helped me stand up again. The cemetery only spun around once, the sunlight darkening. I rubbed my eyes.

  And then my breath went cold in my throat.

  Colin stepped in front of me protectively. “She’s here, isn’t she?”

  “No,” I replied. “Not her.”

  “Who then?”

  “Everyone else.”

  All around us, pale, cold spirits pulled themselves from their graves, sat up through the grass, and climbed from behind their headstones. A woman stepped right out of the weeping statue marked with her name. So much for not waking up the others.

  I shivered, feeling clammy under my dress. These were the same ghosts who had surrounded my bed in the middle of the night. I recognized the little boy, and the woman in the Elizabethan gown. The pearls in her dark hair glittered. The ghosts floated in our direction, all pale, translucent limbs and dagger-bright silhouettes. There were dozens more, dragging themselves free of the earth. Lady Jasper wasn’t with them.

  “They’re all of the spirits laid to rest here,” I told Colin tightly. “They showed up by my bed last night.”

  “The bloody cheek,” he muttered. “In your bedroom, mind.”

  I would have smiled at his disgruntled tone if the ghosts hadn’t all taken a step toward us. Frost traveled through the grass like forks of frozen lightning. The air went frigid.

  I grabbed Colin’s arm. “We might want to run.”

  “You run,” he said, glowering about the red welt between my eyebrows. “I find I’m in the mood for a little violence.”

  “We don’t have nearly enough salt to make a difference,” I pointed out.

  And then it didn’t matter anymore.

  There was nowhere to run to.

  The spirits surrounded us, pressing closer. My teeth chattered. Colin and I huddled next to each other, frost forming on the ends of my hair and the buttons of his shirt. They crept closer, trying to insinuate their cold, dead hands between us. The frost climbed up his collar, covered my rose brooch. There were so many hands, all trying to pry us apart. They tore at me, tugged on my dress, slipped over the back of my bare neck until I shivered. They shoved and pushed at Colin, and though he didn’t see them he fought the ice forming like armor over his arms.

  We held each other’s fingers more tightly, even as the cold mottled them white. My knuckles creaked with it.

  Finally, finally, a voice cracked the frozen moment.

  “What are you two doing in there?” One of the churchyard caretakers scowled at us over his wheelbarrow. I jumped. The frost faded at our feet, turning to dew so abruptly that I slipped in the wet grass. I grabbed the iron fence for support.

  The spot between my eyes flared.

  The spirits faded away, like wind blowing through tatters of mist.

  “Iron,” I murmured. “I’d read it works sometimes.” We both clenched the railing, the scrollwork digging into our palms. The last ghost vanished, taking the cold bite of winter with it.

  “On with ye,” the caretaker grumbled, oblivious. “Before I fetch the vicar. Had enough of that Lonely Lord nonsense. Have a little respect for the dead.”

  “Just as soon as they have some for me,” I muttered, rubbing my aching head with frigid fingers.

  “Where have you been?” Tabitha asked. “And why is there a welt on your forehead?”

  “It’s a long story,” I replied, pacing the length of the sitting room. I was too agitated to sit down, even though my knees felt soggy.

  “You look awful.”

  “Charming as ever, Tabitha,” I returned, stealing a pink frosted cake from the tea tray.

  She huffed a sigh. “Don’t be so sensitive.”

  “Then don’t be so rude,” I said, brushing crumbs off my chin. Something about spiritual contact made me ravenous. I reached for a blackberry tart and ate it in two bites while staring out the window. The sun was setting, making the sky pink as peonies.

  I watched Colin walk down the lane, past the stables and the horses tethered outside. They tossed their heads and bit the air, powerful teeth hard as stones. One of them kicked out, narrowly missing Colin’s knee. I hoped the stable master figured out what was wrong with them soon, before someone was seriously injured. Colin just danced out of the way and crossed the lawns, heading to the fields.

  “Who are you watching? Tabitha asked. “There’s no one interesting for miles.”

  “Colin.”

  She nibbled on her lower lip. “About him.”

  I arched an eyebrow, looking at her over my shoulder. I knew for a fact that I would not like the direction of this particular conversation.

  “You shouldn’t be so familiar with him. It’s not proper.”

  When I turned to face her, she held up a placati
ng hand. “I’m not trying to be hurtful. Truly, I’m not. But even disgraced illegitimate daughters of earls can do better than orphan boys. Especially with Lord Jasper as your guardian. You could make a far better match.”

  “Tabitha,” I said evenly. “Colin Lennox is worth more than all of your earls and dukes combined.”

  “I only meant …”

  “I know exactly what you meant,” I said crisply. “And I was betrothed, however briefly, to one of those ‘better men.’ If you recall, Xavier fled at the first hint of scandal. Colin has never run from a fight in his entire life.”

  Tabitha wrinkled her nose. “I knew you wouldn’t listen to reason.”

  “I will, as soon as you start offering some.”

  “I’m only trying to help,” she insisted in a small voice.

  I didn’t reply. I felt jittery, as if I’d eaten too many sugared violets. Even my teeth ached with the nervous energy shuddering through me. I poured myself a cup of lukewarm tea, hoping it would settle me.

  “Hello, girls.”

  Tabitha and I both froze, staring at Lady Ashburnham as she came into the room. Diamonds and ropes of pearls glittered around her neck, swinging across her dove-gray silk dress. She looked every inch a countess, though her eyes were kinder than I would have guessed.

  “I understand you have concerns about Lord Jasper,” she said, dispensing with idle talk about the weather and the state of the gardens. It was just as well. At least when I picked pockets in London, I never had to worry about the etiquette of offering my victim tea afterward.

  Tabitha sat up straighter, her nose in the air. She might not be a countess, but she was the daughter of one. She looked haughty and confident.

  I just wanted to hide under the sofa.

  Lady Ashburnham kept smiling, amused. “I applaud you, actually,” she said, surprising us both. “I am happy to know that Lord Jasper is not alone in this world. That he has those who care enough for him to ask the difficult questions.”

  I drank another cup of tea to stop myself from fidgeting. I barely tasted it. Tabitha softened, just a little. “We only wanted to be sure,” she said.

  “I understand,” Lady Ashburnham replied. Her eyes twinkled. “Anyway, the truly delicious scandals never make the magazines.”

  Tabitha smiled, suddenly all lace flounces and girlish excitement. Lady Ashburnham looked at me. “If that’s all settled,” she said gently, “I should like my coin back.”

  I spilled the last of my tea in my haste to put the cup down. I pulled the parchment bundle out of my pocket and gave it to her, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

  “How did you know it was she?” Tabitha tilted her head. “I thought you were good at this sort of thing,” she said to me.

  “I would never have known it was she if I didn’t already know one of Lord Jasper’s wards had unique violet eyes,” Lady Ashburnham assured us.

  Blast. There was enough coal fog in London that at a brief glance my eyes looked an unmemorable blue. I’d have to remember that.

  She unwrapped the coin reverently. Her wrinkled fingers brushed the silver tenderly, the light catching the relief of the horse. “Robbie, my boy,” she said, her voice trembling. I shifted awkwardly. Tabitha looked away. That kind of sorrow was personal, private. It wasn’t meant to be witnessed.

  “Lord Jasper assured me you would have kept it,” she added, looking at me piercingly. “I was worried you’d have sold it.” I shook my head mutely. “It was my son’s, you see. He carried it with him always, before he died.” She curled her palm around the coin.

  Lady Jasper floated into view, right behind Lady Ashburnham. She dripped tendrils of cold air. I could see the wainscoting through her dress.

  I blinked, trying not to react.

  “His father gave it to him when it became clear that Rob was mad about horses. He rode too fast, gambled on the races he hadn’t instigated himself. Everything came easily to him.” She smiled slightly, lost in her own memories.

  Lady Jasper trailed a glowing, phosphorescent hand over Lady Ashburnham’s head. The old woman shivered but kept talking. She didn’t look frightened or as if she was in any pain. Her eyes were faintly glazed, but that was all. Lady Jasper looked satisfied.

  “He was the eldest, the next earl. I suppose we spoiled him too much, but he was no wilder than any other boys of the gentry. At least at first.”

  For some reason, Lady Jasper wanted me to hear this story. Was this what she had wanted all along? She didn’t look angry or vengeful, just intense, as if she could will me to understand what was happening.

  “And then he fell in love with a girl, as boys do. She was a diamond of the first water, with twelve marriage proposals in her first Season. But she loved my Rob. He wanted to marry her, straightaway. When we suggested they wait a little while, to get to know each other better, he flew into the boughs. I’ve never seen such a black mood as that. He always did have a temper.”

  Lady Jasper flared, glowing so brightly my eyes watered. I took it that she was agreeing with Lady Ashburnham. Had she met Rob when he was a boy?

  “They resolved to elope. The night they were to meet, Rob got drunk and fell asleep in a pub. By the time he got to their appointed meeting spot, he was too late. Marie had disappeared. No one knew where she’d gone or what had happened to her. We still don’t know. We assume she died.” She shook her head. “Rob was never the same after that. He rode all day and all night, spending all of his time drinking or tearing across the fields on unbroken, vicious horses. Finally, one night, he was trampled.” Her words trembled into a sob. “We buried him in the churchyard up the hill.”

  Lady Jasper opened her mouth to speak but my head started to burn. My psychical abilities weren’t entirely healed. My hand drifted to my brow. Tabitha looked at me sharply, expectantly. I gave a tiny shake of my head and widened my eyes in Lady Ashburnham’s direction.

  “Was he very handsome?” Tabitha pressed.

  “Yes.” Lady Ashburnham smiled. “He was rather dashing, though I do say it myself. He had a small scar at the side of his mouth and the girls all swooned over it. They still go to his grave to pray for luck with their sweethearts.”

  A scar at the side of his mouth.

  Lady Jasper sent cold creeping over the coin, but Lady Ashburnham didn’t notice. She was too busy wiping her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “I’m sorry, my dears. I don’t know why I told you all of that.”

  I thought of the way the horses had bolted with the carriage; of the icy hooves the day Lord Jasper was nearly thrown, and again just now, by the stables.

  Rob Steele, the former Lord Ashburnham, was back.

  And he was the Lonely Lord.

  I knew why I felt so queer, so full of jagged unused energy. I’d felt like this before: around Rowena, when a spirit came at me from the pond, when the old woman tried to claim Colin for her own.

  It was the cold, desperate feeling of a spirit pushing too close.

  “I have to find Colin,” I said abruptly. I remembered the feel of the spirits trying to force us apart. They’d been protecting me. “Now. He’s in danger.” I shot a glance at the coin, dropping my voice. “From Rob.”

  “I’ve seen the way Colin looks at you.” Tabitha shook her head. “He’ll find you.”

  Tabitha was right.

  Colin found me.

  I went to the cemetery, because I didn’t know where else to go. I had a vague plan to find Rob’s grave and fill it with salt. Colin was already there, waiting for me. He looked angry and arrogant, spoiling for a fight. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal muscled forearms, his hands tucked in his pockets.

  “Colin,” I said as he stalked toward me. “Are you—.”

  I’d been about to ask him if he was all right.

  But he wasn’t.

  There was no teasing glint to his eyes, only hunger. I lifted my fistful of salt. His fingers closed around my wrist, bending it back until the salt scattered harmlessly down my dress.

/>   “You have to listen to me,” I said, wincing at the press of his thumb on my skin.

  He tossed his black hair off his face, eyes glinting. His smile was cocky. “Don’t you think we’ve done enough talking?”

  And then he was pressing me against the stone angel and his mouth was on mine and it was difficult to think, to do anything other than feel. Our tongues touched, our hands tangled. He crowded against me or I crowded against him, I couldn’t be sure anymore. The kiss took up everything until we shimmered with it.

  Shimmered.

  I jerked back, breaking the kiss.

  Colin was shimmering. There was an unnatural glow to his skin and the air was frosting. It wasn’t fire between us anymore, but ice.

  And with Lady Jasper’s stone angel digging into my back, I could see why she’d tripped me. She’d been warning me, just like all the others spirits. If I’d looked up, sprawled on her grave, I would have seen the stone inscribed Rob Steele, Beloved Son.

  Colin had been standing right there, right over Rob’s bones after I’d stomped about demanding the spirits wake up.

  It was my fault.

  He smirked, leaning closer, his eyes still on my lips. Colin’s blue irises went black in the twilight shadows. Black as Rob’s eyes had been. I struggled to free myself. His hands tightened, crushed my sleeves between his fingers. “Don’t be like that, love.”

  I yanked sideways, pulling him with me. We stumbled into the iron fence, the gate rattling loudly. Colin didn’t react like the spirits had; he didn’t even pause.

  Iron wasn’t working.

  “I’m too strong for that,” he drawled, caging me. His hand closed slowly and deliberately around the iron rail.

  “You’re not Colin,” I said, steadily. “You’re Rob.”

  He clenched his jaw. “I was a lot of things,” he said darkly. “Until Marie.”

  His thumbs dug into my arms, painfully. He was too close, too big, too wild.

  But I was accustomed to stories of earls with too much money and too little responsibility. Like my father, who refused to acknowledge me. For all he knew or cared, I was shivering in rags, sifting through the stinking mud of the Thames with the mudlarks for buttons and broken baubles to sell.