Page 168 of The Siren of Sussex

“We must break the circle,” Mr. Popplewell said. “The spirit has gone.” Letting go of Mr. Lees’s hand, Mr. Popplewell gave him pencil and paper.

Rousing himself, Mr. Lees wrote something down. When he’d finished, he folded the paper in half and handed it to Mr. Popplewell.

Mr. Popplewell conveyed it to Lady Seymour.

She took it without looking at it and thrust it into the mouth of her black silk-fringed reticule. She snapped the drawstring closure tight. “I thank you for your compliance.”

Everyone at the table stared at Lady Seymour, expecting Evelyn knew not what. A royal proclamation, perhaps. Some edict passed down from the Queen.

But when Lady Seymour next spoke, the subject had nothing to do with royalty. “Is there someplace I might wash my hands?”

“There is, my lady,” Mr. Popplewell said. “It’s at the back of the house. I can show you—”

“Miss Maltravers can accompany me.” She rose from her chair. “If you will?”

“Yes, of course.” Evelyn stood to follow her, aware of the rest of the company staring after them.

“One must never wander about strange places alone,” Lady Seymour said. “And never in company with an unfamiliar gentleman.”

“No, indeed,” Evelyn agreed.

Lady Seymour led the way through a dark sitting room shadowed with heavy furnishings. As they passed through to the hall, a young maid in an ill-fitting stuff dress appeared. She wobbled a curtsy.

“The lavatory?” Lady Seymour inquired.

“This way, madam.” The maid escorted them to a small room off the kitchen. Inside was a basin, tub, and little else. “The necessary is outside.”

“This will suffice.” Dismissing the maid, Lady Seymour went to the basin and turned on the tap. Water came out with a sputter. “Was this your first séance, Miss Maltravers?”

“How could you tell?” Evelyn asked.

Lady Seymour cast her a glance. “You were gripping my hand rather hard.”

Evelyn smiled a little sheepishly. It had been difficult not to be overcome by the atmosphere once the séance got underway. “Mr. Lees’s gyrations did startle me a little.”

“Do you think his gift legitimate?” Lady Seymour asked as she washed her hands.

“I’m not inclined to believe,” Evelyn said. “Then again, he was able to identify you.”

“Anyone might have done. I’m staying at an inn nearby. One can never be entirely incognito when traveling with servants.”

“What about your question? He appeared to answer it.”

“He did, didn’t he? And yet . . . the Prince Consort had no secret name for the Queen.”

Evelyn’s smile broadened. “You tricked him?”

Lady Seymour’s mouth curled into a smug smile of her own. “I tested him.”

“And now? Do you think him a fraud?”

“It’s not for me to decide,” Lady Seymour said. “That must be left to Her Majesty’s judgment.”

“Do you not wonder what he wrote down?”

“Not in the least.”

Evelyn smoothed her skirts as she waited for Lady Seymour to finish freshening up. The action caught Lady Seymour’s gaze. After drying her hands, she came closer to inspect Evelyn’s gown.