The following morning, Roderick kept a watchful eye on Elphi as she ate her single poached egg, a lonely piece of buttered toast smeared with orange marmalade, and a solitary slice of bacon in silence while he jumped from one topic to another in a frantic attempt to draw her into conversation. All to no avail.
It was as though she no longer heard a word he said. She'd been this way since the blasted séance, and he didn't know what to do. So, in an act of desperation, he braced for an attack as he opened his mouth and said, "Meliphant."
However, instead of releasing a vicious hell-beast bent solely on delivering his destruction at the sound of that loathsome nickname, Elphi—her gaze locked on the frosty mullioned windows and hands folded demurely in her lap—sat in mute silence.
Roderick's gut clenched with worry, and he pursed his lips.
He scanned the table and room, unsure if he was searching for inspiration or objects to toss Elphi's way to get a reaction out of her. To do so would be reverting to childish antics, ones they now teased each other about but hadn't indulged in since the first few months after Mother's death.
But as he sat there, Roderick seriously contemplated reviving what their father had chastised him for and proclaimed, 'Uncouth behavior ill-befitting the seventh Viscount Matson' for the first time in eleven years. The situation felt that dire.
The usual weapons lay before him: A nearly empty glass with a swallow's worth of orange juice at the bottom—technically two weapons in one. And his plate with maple syrup smears holding the remaining egg and French toast crumbs prisoner.
Both pieces would be considered the perfect weapons. They were weighty and capable of delivering a solid bonk upon hitting his target, which would, in turn, hopefully, produce the desired response from Elphi, but most importantly, where his dear sister was concerned, they were sticky and dirty.
And there was nothing Elphi loathed more than touching or being touched by sticky, dirty dishes save all creamed vegetables.
Personally, he didn't see what the problem was. Maple syrup was delectable, and if anything, its stickiness enhanced its deliciousness; he'd always considered it a divinely superb sauce, especially atop his French toast. But he digressed.
Deciding against chucking his glass or plate at Elphi, he eyed his utensils for a moment, glanced once more at his sister, then back to his cutlery. He didn't wish to hurt or maim, simply gain her attention. The fork prongs definitely looked sharper than usual—bloody hell, did their butler Mr. Tucker hone them nightly?
Roderick picked up the fork and ran his thumb against the points, pursing his lips as several images of the damage the unassuming weapon could inadvertently cause flashed before his eyes. Then, with a shake of his head, he set the offending fork back on the table and made a mental note to have them blunted.
The knife was out of the question for the same reason, which left the spoon. Roderick lifted it between finger and thumb, studied the weight and edges with care, then placed it next to the fork and knife, deciding that the slender piece of solid metal could still cause grievous harm even with its curved edge.
Perhaps if Elphi were a moving target capable of avoiding his carefully aimed missiles, bantering with him, and threatening to retaliate in equal measure, he'd feel differently.
How could he throw anything at her other than his napkin when she was sitting completely motionless, staring vacantly at the window overlooking the snow-covered garden? To do so would make him no better than a monster.
Forcing down a swallow, he watched her with worried eyes as he quietly said, "Elphi, please tell me what's wrong."
"I believe I'll take the carriage into town," She murmured as she stood, her gaze still fixed on the windows. "Will you have it brought 'round? I'm going to change."
Roderick's eyebrows rose to his hairline, and his mouth fell slack in disbelief that she'd spoken. He quickly snapped it shut and nodded, "Would you like me to accompany you?"
"That won't be necessary."
Like hell, it wasn't. If she expected him to allow her to go off alone after the worry she'd caused him all night and morning, Elphi had obviously forgotten who she was dealing with.
He stood and tossed his napkin to the table, "Where is it you wish to go?"
"Terreworth Hall."
Roderick frowned, "Why in all that is holy would you want to visit Lady Whitlock again? Heaven knows those two hours we spent last evening with her and His Lordship will sustain me for several lifetimes."
Elphi's hollow gaze slowly left the window to meet his. "I need to know..." her words died off into silence as she stared at him for a moment longer, then she blinked, cleared her throat, and walked from the room.
"Need to know what?" Roderick called out, following after her in confusion.
"I have questions," Elphi said over her shoulder, "questions only Mrs. Lynch can answer."
"Mrs. Lynch?"
"Yes."
He lengthened his stride and pulled Elphi to a stop in the hallway as he quietly asked, "What questions could you possibly want to ask that woman when every word out of her mouth last evening was an outrageous lie?"
"Not every word."
Roderick arched a brow as he held a hand to his chest and said in perfect French, "Excusez moi?"
"She knew I'm cursed."
Roderick folded his arms across his chest and braced his feet wide. He didn't know why he hadn't realized that particular phrase was the cause of Elphi's mental turmoil, but now that she'd said it, everything about her recent behavior made sense.
He'd like to revisit Terreworth Hall as well if only so he could wring Mrs. Lynch's neck and put her on the first boat back to America. But, another visit with Mrs. Lynch was out of the question. It would only make things worse.
He just needed a little time to think of a suitable alternative.
"I think you're forgetting a significant detail, Elphi."
"Such as?"
"Such as," Roderick said, feeling that what he was about to say should have been obvious, "the part where she tried to convince us Napoleon Bonaparte possessed her."
Elphi matched his stance, "I believe her."
"The hell you do."
She rolled her eyes and lifted her hand in a dismissive wave, "Well, not when she claimed to be possessed."
"That's a relief," Roderick murmured, relaxing somewhat.
"Only the part about me being cursed."
"Naturally," Roderick groaned, rubbing his forehead to ease the ache settling in, even as he silently admitted to himself he possibly would have too if he were in her shoes and hadn't talked with Rufus.
"How could she know about that unless she isn't an actual spiritualist?" Elphi quietly asked. "You said Rufus was never wrong about these things-"
"He isn't."
"And I stupidly started to believe him too," Elphi continued as though her brother hadn't interrupted her. "How could I not when it was blatantly obvious everything that had come out of Mrs. Lynch's mouth until that exact moment had been nothing but falsehoods? I feel like such a fool."
Roderick grabbed Elphi by the shoulders and gave her a little shake, "You are most definitely not a fool, I can assure you. That woman is a fraud."
Elphi's hands curled into tight fists at her side as she growled through clenched teeth, "Then how could she know that I'm cursed?"
"I don't know; she must have heard about you somehow and decided to poke about for a spark of truth after her possession turned out to be such a failure," he said weakly, not knowing what else to say. "But just to clarify... until she said the bit about you being cursed, you didn't believe anything she said, did you?"
Elphi hesitated before quietly admitting, "No."
Roderick raked his hand through his hair, then planted his fists on his hips as he heaved a sigh and studied his sister.
If Elphi wanted answers, there was only one person he trusted enough on this particular matter to give them. He only wished he'd had a little more time to prepare her for what some of the answers would be. "All right, hurry and change; I'll have the carriage brought around."
Elphi frowned and looked at Roderick when the carriage headed away from Terreworth Hall. "Where are we going?"
"To get you some answers."
"But Terreworth Hall and Mrs. Lynch is that way. Do you know something I don't?"
"I know many things you don't," Roderick murmured with a cheeky grin, then wedged himself into the corner of the carriage and closed his eyes. "Including the fact that we're not going to see that awful woman."
Elphi stared at her brother and clenched her jaw tight against the scream building in her throat, counting first to ten and then twenty.
When she felt she could open her mouth and make a sound other than that of a banshee, she asked with measured calm, "You do recall the discussion we had where I told you I wished to talk with her?"
Roderick grunted. "I do."
"And yet, here we are... traveling in the opposite direction."
"Precisely."
"Where. Are. We. Going. Roderick?" She ground out through clenched teeth and nudged his left knee with her right.
He opened one eye to meet her scowl, then closed it and adjusted his position. "We are going to see Rufus."
Elphi stared at him. She couldn't possibly have heard him correctly. "Whatever for?"
Roderick shrugged, "I enjoy his company."
"Well, I don't," Elphi snapped, hating that she too enjoyed Rufus's company—far more than she ought to. She folded her arms across her chest and all but threw her body against the back of the seat.
Over the next several minutes, the carriage rumbled down the cobbled streets without a word spoken between the two siblings until Roderick said, "I've hired him to help us."
Elphi ignored Roderick, believing he was talking in his sleep.
"I know you heard me."
She frowned and slowly turned at the waist to look at him. "I thought you were napping."
"My dear sister, babies and children under the age of six nap," Roderick said with an imperious lift of his chin as he straightened in his seat and arched a brow. "I, on the other hand, am a grown man of twenty-seven and was merely resting my eyes. You know carriage rides make me sleepy."
Elphi bit back a smile at his mulish tone and turned her attention to the scenery outside the window. "Who did you hire?"
"Rufus."
"What do you mean you hired him? Hired him to do what? Dissuade me from attending any more séances with one of his many frowns?"
Silence, the compelling kind that piques curiosity even when in the throes of sibling squabbles, enveloped them and forced Elphi to turn once more to stare at her brother.
He met her gaze, "There are things you don't know about Lord Treadway."
"Yes, well, given that I've only known the man for two weeks, that is a rather conspicuous statement, isn't it, brother?"
"I'm referring to the less obvious."
Elphi's gaze narrowed at his tone. "This sounds intriguing. I'm listening...."
Roderick pursed his lips. Where to begin? How much should he divulge?
"Rufus," he began, then paused for a moment. Perhaps it'd be best to tell her only the relevant bits she needed to know so she wouldn't be completely blindsided when they arrived at Rufus's terrace house in Bayswater. Anything else, Rufus could handle himself.
Roderick nodded in agreement with his decision, then continued, "Rufus worked for Scotland Yard—several years ago—he's retired now and does private investigations... of the... paranormal sort, which is why..." he shrugged.
"You hired him," Elphi finished lamely. She let the information settle within her mind before saying, "How exactly is he meant to... how does hiring him-" she snapped her mouth shut and narrowed her eyes.
The words she wanted to ask tumbled in her mind but refused to assemble correctly into a coherent sentence.
"If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell him I told you?"
Elphi frowned but remained silent and nodded.
Roderick brushed at a piece of lint on his sleeve as he whispered, "Do you recall the séance where you met him?"
Elphi looked at her brother as though he'd lost his mind. "Of course I do; I'm not a dimwit, Rodrick."
He quietly continued, "You said the spiritualist knew Rufus and another boy had been in an accident when they were younger?"
"Yes."
"Rufus doesn't like to talk about it—I don't even think anyone in his family knows... we were around nine or ten if I remember correctly. We'd been told not to go out on the water, but you remember me at that age," his lips curled in a crooked smile as his shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Did she mention Rufus briefly died that day?"
Elphi stared at Roderick in mute shock and thought back on that night, desperate to remember the words Madame Calvert had used. "No, I believe she said that he'd crossed over and returned and that it wasn't his time."
Her eyes widened upon realizing what the words 'crossed over and returned' implied, "Oh."
Roderick sighed and nodded.
"So," Elphi began, her eyes narrowing as she slowly spoke to keep the words from jumbling in her brain as she struggled to make sense of what Roderick had told her. "How does one exactly become a private paranormal investigator? Are you saying dying and coming back alive granted him special abilities?"
The carriage rolled to a stop as Roderick arched a cynical brow that transformed into a thoughtful expression. "Don't be ridiculous."
"You don't know, do you? You haven't asked him."
Roderick shot her a dirty look and exited the carriage, "I shouldn't have told you anything."
"Too late now," Elphi murmured, stepping onto the sidewalk in front of a row of three-story red brick terrace houses along a quiet, unassuming upper-middle-class road. "Where are we?"
"Treadway's home, of course; this is where he conducts business," Roderick said as he shuffled up the steps to the front door. He glanced over his right shoulder at her, "What are you doing?"
Elphi chewed on her bottom lip in indecision and studied the building as though her life suddenly depended on evaluating its gothic architecture.
The thought of spending more time with a man she was not only dangerously attracted to, intrigued by, and growing increasingly fond of was terrifying.
But it wasn't as though she had any choice in the matter. Not after learning Roderick had hired him, which, unfortunately for her, meant she was doomed to spend even more time with the man until he discovered the cause of her predicament and hopefully what to do to fix it. Blast it all.
"Melphia," Roderick growled from the doorstep with an irritated scowl darkening his face and his fists planted on his hips. "I swear, sometimes you try the patience of a Saint."
Elphi heaved a sigh, squared her shoulders, and forced her feet to move, "Comparing yourself to a Saint, Roderick? We're thinking awful highly of ourselves lately, aren't we?"
"You're lucky we're out in public."
Elphi smirked. "Why's that?"
"Because," he murmured with a secretive little smile cast her way, "if we weren't, I'd gather what's left of the snow sitting on that railing and shove it down the back of your cloak and bodice."
And with that, he knocked once, then let himself inside as though he owned the place.