Page 27 of When We Touch

Across the table, the Duchess was seated on Alexander’s other side. The Irishman, Riley, was between her and Jane.

“Now . . . Oscar, the lights, please.”

Oscar turned off the gas lamps overhead. The room was pitched into darkness. A faint glow gave an orange cast to the area of the hearth; the single candle burned on the table, affording just a whisper of light.

“We will all hold hands atop the table, please,” Adrian Alexander said. He had a booming voice, and yet it seemed filled with gentle authority.

They all obeyed.

“Are you ready, Adrian?” Jane asked.

“Yes.”

“Adrian, you must clear your mind. Sit back. Let all that troubles your mind slip away; let all that brings tension to your limbs be eased. Watch the flame as it brings its light to the darkness, watch it, focus on it, feel it. Feel the warmth bring to you the comfort and ease that are present when the mind is freed. Sit back and feel the warmth, see the light, know the comfort. Watch the flame and rest, rest . . . let go of this world, and open yourself to the next.”

Jane’s voice was certainly one of the best Maggie had ever heard. Soft and fluid, like flowing water. There was power in that voice, definitely. Mireau’s eyes were half closed as he stared at the flames. Marian, Duchess of Chesney, seemed nearly in a trance herself.

Adrian Alexander had been staring into the flames. He slumped forward suddenly, his eyes closed.

“Adrian, can you hear me?” Jane asked softly.

“Yes.”

He straightened. It seemed that his eyes had rolled back into his head, that they were white now. Maggie felt a chill herself, and was stunned.

“Are you alone, Adrian?”

“No.”

“Who is with you?”

“Many . . . I am in the tunnel, the hall . . . the light is ahead of me. Others move with me.”

“Where are you moving to?” Jane’s voice was clear, and yet it never rose above a whisper.

“The light . . . we all seek the light.”

“Who are the people with you?”

“The recently . . . dead.”

The chill shot right into Maggie’s heart. She was amazed at how eerie and frightening the room had become.

“It’s cold. So cold . . . and that is why we seek the light.”

Cold wind suddenly seemed to blow in. The windows were closed.

“There are those here seeking loved ones. Can you help them tonight?”

“Speak. Those who would talk, must speak.”

“May I?” the Duchess whispered fervently.

Jane looked around the table. No one protested.

But as Marian started to form a word, Adrian spoke again. “Someone passes me now . . . catching my arm. Ah, she is lovely, blond hair free and flowing . . . her clothing is damp . . . she is anxious . . . she knows I am with them, but not of them. Her name is . . . Nell . . .”

“Nell?” Jane murmured, looking around the table.