Emberlight

Chapter Seven

'Would you like more tea, Miss?'

'Yes thank you, Nelly.'

Eleanor set down her newspaper as the maid filled her teacup, thinking of all various things she intended to do that day.

So far her experience of London was beyond anything she could have imagined back in the lonely confines of her country manor. The city held new events and opportunities around every corner, along with innumerable temptations to buy; luxuriant ballgowns from the finest tailor's, air-light pastries filled with sweet delights, art museums with rooms and rooms of exquisite paintings to gaze at for hours. It was magical.

Marianne, sat opposite her at the breakfast table, suddenly huffed loudly and scowled down at her toast. 'Where are you off to at this early hour, Michael?'

Eleanor looked up and caught her male cousin's reflection in the mirror. He stood in the doorway, dressed to go out with his hat and coat, and judging by his startled expression, had intended to escape the house unseen by his female relatives.

'Good morning to you both. I was just going to have a nice walk by the Thames before my breakfast.' He scratched his beard nervously. In her view of his reflection in the mirror, Eleanor noticed the little silver box glinting in his hand.

Marianne was still frowning. Saying nothing, she fixed her gaze out the window and stayed as still as a statue.

Michael cleared his throat awkwardly. 'Well, goodbye then.'

'Goodbye,' said Eleanor.

Not a second after they heard the front door open and close Marianne relaxed her posture and rubbed a shaky hand over her forehead.

 'He's going to ruin himself, and then there'll be nothing to save him.'

There was a tense silence while Eleanor sipped her tea, too shocked and confused to reply. She'd been finding Marianne more and more insufferable since they'd arrived in London. Ever since she'd attended the Opera with James Sterling, she'd been acting oddly around her. Eleanor feared she may have heard about James' bout of madness by the carriage. 

Besides, they didn't spend much time together now that Marianne was glued to Tom Walton's side. The couple appeared to have grown even closer, and on several occasions she'd caught her cousin tiptoeing up to her bedroom in the late evening hours with blushing cheeks and a lingering smile.  

In the daytime, however, Marianne had an infuriating habit of acting like a mother towards her and Michael, and Eleanor's patience was wearing thin. 'Why are you so harsh on your brother? I haven't observed anything unbecoming in his habits.'

'You know nothing.'

Eleanor gave a light, hollow laugh.  'Well if you'd care to enlighten me, cousin, I'd much appreciate it.'

Marianne stood up and approached a glossy mahogany box upon the mantelpiece. She turned the key in the lock, opened the creaky lid and and felt around for a while before producing a silver box extremely similar to the one Michael had shown her. Eleanor was again drawn to the beautiful, arcane images on it.

Marianne walked over and opened the little box in front of her. Inside was a small, dark tincture bottle, and various powdery pills. 

Eleanor knew the contents of the shiny brown bottle immediately. In fact, her father had an exact copy of it on his bedside table in his worsening state.

'Is that...?'

'Opium? Yes. It is used to aid both pain and pleasure. You're right, most men of Michael's age try it now and again. But my brother is addicted. Mother and Father cut his allowance last year to encourage him to stop, but he just disappeared into London for long periods and no doubt managed to take it again.'

She snapped the lid tightly shut. 'Do you still believe he's going on a walk by the Thames?'

II

Mr Hudson's London office was even fancier than the one she'd visited in Bath.

Eleanor had been reluctant to see the financier again after James' suspicious mentioning of him, but she'd gathered that the only way to discover why the secretive Sterling brothers were so interested in her business was to read over the company documents with a fine tooth comb. She had shown up without appointment, for fear that Mr Hudson's association with the Sterling brothers would lead him to hide any shady documents in advance of her visit.

She sat demurely on the velvet-line chair as the flushed financier rummaged through the oceans of paper in his drawers. 'Miss Godfrey, if I'd known you were coming sooner, I would have selected the most important papers from the file for you to read. This really is tedious work for a woma-'

'I believed my request to be rather simple, Mr Hudson. I would like to view all the documents. Profits, shareholders, everything.'

Mr Hudson finally slid a thick folder towards her. 'There it is. Mind you, there might be several ongoing matters that your father didn't attend to...'

'Thank you, sir. I will look at them in private.'

Mr Hudson hesitated as is he was about to protest, but instead turned and left the room hurriedly. 

As soon as the door clicked shut Eleanor sifted through the stack with a thumping heart and shaky fingers. 

Letters, diagrams, calculations...

Most of the stack meant nothing to her, endless contracts and papers which offered her only a tiny glimpse of her father's tobacco empire which she was yet to discover, let alone understand. But she did notice a crumpled piece of blue paper protruding from an envelope stamped private. She took the odd paper out and unfolded it. 

At the top of the page, Emberlight Enterprises was written in a rough cursive scrawl. Underneath was an ink illustration of a silver box. Although a slightly different shape, it bore the same markings as the one Michael carried everywhere in his pocket. 

Opium.

Eleanor's blood ran cold as she remembered the tiny bottle and powdery pills Marianne had shown her. How was her father involved in this?

At the bottom of the page, written in a scruffy small print; Please direct any enquires to Mister Rafe Sterling. Eleanor rubbed her forehead in a mixture of frustration and upset. Her father had never mentioned his attachment to any other businesses, let alone a connection to opium. 

Her breathing had shallowed and her heart pumped noisily. She leafed through the rest of the papers again, desperate for an explanation. A carefully constructed schedule caught her eye. A quick scan of it displayed shipment dates, locations, and quantities of goods. Eleanor felt sick to realise what those boats must be shipping.

The next shipment was due that Thursday, at a shady trading port on the Thames in Camden. 

Why was this shadowy business tucked away in her father's documents?

Perhaps the only way to find the truth was to go and see it herself.