Chapter 15 #3
“Elements,” Violet answered in a loud whisper.
“Ah.” Her expression cleared. Then she scrunched again. “What elements?”
Cy took a deep breath.
Agnes pushed her small shoulders back. “The elements of air, fire, earth, and water. Two of them, I should think. Water … and earth. For balance.”
Violet frowned. “That just makes mud.”
“Precisely.”
Cy pushed out his deep breath. “Ladies, it has been a pleasure, but I must be moving along. Miss Agnes”—he doffed his hat—“I thank you for your diagnosis. I’m sure your mother would be proud.”
“She always did suspect I had the gift.”
“Yes, well, I shall consider …” He paused, unsure of what to call a healing of his sense of fun, which, if these women asked his siblings, would be confirmed as thriving.
Wouldn’t it?
“I will consider your treatment. Now, if you’ll excuse me.
” He bowed and turned, grateful to have a long, undisturbed ramble ahead of him.
But within a minute, the same feminine voices he’d left behind were not left behind.
Rather, they remained behind him as he walked, their strides matching his with the crunch of gravel underfoot.
“Really, Agnes, how is it that you’ve been my lady’s maid for six years and I’ve never known you were a spiritualist?”
“It’s not something to wave about, miss. One tends to get funny looks. Imagine my surprise when Miss Whittemore showed that she had the eye.”
“The eye?” Violet asked.
“The ability to see into a person’s inner workings. We of the gift tend to recognize it in others.”
“Imagine. And I thought I was merely looking into his ear.”
Cy was certain he had the gift of recognizing a load of codswallop when he heard it. Still, he could not set Violet down without setting down the elder woman as well, and he didn’t have the heart to do that.
“I had no idea I was gifted in such a way,” Violet said airily. “We must do all we can to bring balance to Mr. Burke’s soul.”
Cy could not have rolled his eyes any harder. He turned on his next step. “Ladies.”
All three stopped and stared, as if surprised that he’d realized they were walking just behind him and speaking his name. Miss Janes’s eyes were a little too bright, and Violet looked as though her favorite pony had just given birth to bunnies. That is to say, too delighted for words.
There was only one thing he could do. “I had intended on walking around the lake this morning—”
“So had we,” Miss Janes said. “That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier.”
“That being said,” Cy continued with a nod, “all this talk of my fractured soul has wearied me. Shall you join me for a shorter walk around the gardens? Miss—er, what is your surname, Agnes?”
“Pennymoon.”
Of course it was. “Miss Pennymoon, would you care to take my arm? I would not want to leave you susceptible to those who would take advantage of your excellent intentions and use them for their own entertainment.” He eyed Violet, who had the decency to look chagrined, and Miss Janes, whose mouth dropped open but who blessedly did not say anything.
“Thank you, Mr. Burke.” Miss Pennymoon took his proffered arm. “Truth be told, I wasn’t sure I was up to going clear ’round the lake. These old bones, you know. Though, I imagine the prospect to be singular, don’t you agree? When I was a girl …”
“Well, that wasn’t any fun,” he heard Violet murmur as they fell into step behind him and Miss Pennymoon.
“No fun at all,” Miss Janes answered. “Maybe you do have the eye.”
“Maybe Mr. Burke needs his sense of fun freed from its dusty old box.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time we hunted for a key, would it?”
“Indeed not. A bit of shaking-up never hurt anybody.”
“Now we just need to find elephants.”
Violet made a noise between a snort and a cough.
“… and that is when I knew that Mr. Fenimore Miller would be the last person I would ever marry. Two days later he run off with a circus performer named Delilah Blade. She threw knives. You know? I don’t think that were her real name.”
Miss Janes halted. “Agnes! Why are you telling Mr. Burke things you’ve never told me?”
Agnes turned. “Miss, when your soul’s existence is in peril, I’ll tell you such stories. Your head will spin.”
“What if my soul is never in peril?”
Miss Pennymoon gave Cy a speaking glance.
Cy’s shoulders shook in silent laughter.
“Never you fear. In the meantime,” she continued, nodding sagely, “we shall need a plan.” She patted Cy’s arm in concern. “You young ladies must put him through the rigors.”
“Rigors?” Violet asked from behind them.
“Rigors?” Cy asked with alarm.
“You must remind him how to have fun.”
“I know how to have fun,” he said. True, he had a lot on his mind of late.
“I think she means beyond stealing meritable positions away from unsuspecting maidens.” Cy felt rather than saw Violet’s smug expression.
“If you’re an unsuspecting maiden,” he muttered, “I’m Peter Pan.” He turned his head to address her. “And I did not steal anything. If anybody was the unsuspecting maiden here, it was me.”
Her brow rose. “You should use that in your speech on welcome day.”
Miss Janes giggled.