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Chapter 11
When Jeffrey appeared once more in his foyer, he found Peter in a wide stance, speaking with the butler he’d lent Jeffrey for the week—one that allowed his home to be up and running in a manner Jeffrey hadn’t been accustomed to in many years. The butler bowed to Jeffrey and said, “Good afternoon, My Lord. It’s a pleasure to be involved in the upkeep of your home.”
“Thank you for your help,” Jeffrey said, disinterested. He turned towards Peter and said, “May I speak to you for a moment? Perhaps in the study?”
Peter nodded and followed Jeffrey down the corridor, then into the study, which Jeffrey had recently stylized to suit his needs. He poured two glasses of whisky and passed one on to Peter, who thanked him, his eyes beady.
“What’s happened?” he asked. “There’s something amiss about you.”
Jeffrey clucked his tongue. He could still feel them: the words Charlotte had articulated, ones that illustrated just how many questions remained here in the county Jeffrey had once abandoned.
“I’ve just seen Charlotte in town,” he said.
Peter brightened at this news. “You don’t say.”
“It was nothing like that,” Jeffrey asserted. “I found her staring back at me in the fabric shop. When she spotted me, she came outside. We’re so strange with one another. When we speak, it’s almost as though there’s nobody else in the world; perhaps three or four people walked past us on the street, but I had no attention for them.”
“You’re smitten,” Peter affirmed.
“No. But I did ask her again about the mystic. And she informed me that the mystic told her something that ultimately became true. She wanted to continue her caginess. She wanted to keep it close. But immediately, I guessed it. That the mystic mentioned something about her cousin’s death. The look on her face told me everything I needed to know. Naturally, she feels guilty—as though she caused the death herself.”
“Fascinating,” Peter said. His eyes glittered ominously. “What are you going to do?”
Jeffrey heaved a sigh and watched the whisky turn in his glass. “I suppose I had better find the answers I came back to town to find. There’s no other way. She’s added a bit of colour to the mix—poor Charlotte. Now, I suppose it gives me an increased fire to discover the truth.”
“Will you ask for her assistance?” Peter asked. “She might be able to help you.”
“I don’t know,” Jeffrey said.
“You’ve always wanted to operate alone,” Peter said.
“I feel as though anything else might slow me down,” Jeffrey said.
“What if it didn’t, though? What if she offered something you couldn’t find alone?”
Jeffrey considered this for a long time. He supposed it was impossible for Peter to comprehend the weight of the lonely hours of his previous three-some years. Attempting to explain those hours would only pain him, he knew. Now that he had Peter back—now that he had some semblance of a life—he didn’t want to blink too far into that other dimension.
“It’s horrible, what they’re doing. I’m glad someone like yourself is brave enough to put an end to it,” Peter affirmed. “I only hope that you aren’t putting yourself in horrible danger.”
Jeffrey cut his friend a funny grin. “You say it without mentioning the most important part of such a thing.”
“What do you mean?”
Jeffrey leaned forward, his eyes glittering. “When one is in danger, one feels more alive.”
Peter laughed and tossed his head back. “You always had this about you, didn’t you? Even before it all happened.”
“Finally, I have a chance to use it. This crafty nature. This seeming uninterest in the banal,” Jeffrey said. “I must be cleverer. Stronger. Better than these horrendous creatures who lurk in our midst. And I mustn’t allow them to take Charlotte with them.”
