She could feel his thrumming excitement. If he’d been a squirrel in truth, he’d have been standing on his hind legs, his paws scrabbling in the air and his nose twitching frantically.
She wondered if she’d misjudged him. Or was it simply the idea of contacting the dead that inspired her to smile at him, matching his toothy expression? She might solve the mystery of Caroline’s identity on her own.
“Yes, Mr. Kerr,” she said, “I would very much like to assist you.”
Montgomery hadn’t gotten any productive work done all day. Every time he tried to concentrate on the design, he thought of Veronica’s words.
Did you have slaves?
He could hear the barely veiled horror in Veronica’s voice when she’d asked that question.
Gleneagle had been left to all three of them equally. One brother had no more say than another, despite his birth placement. However, two of them could outvote the third, and he’d found his wishes being overridden by Alisdair and James.
In an action that, even to this day he couldn’t accept, his brothers had continued the practice their father had instituted. Gleneagle had been no different from any other James River plantation. Everything Magnus Fairfax had believed in, everything he’d taught Montgomery, everything Montgomery had come to accept was right and moral, had been pushed aside.
His decision to join the Union Army hadn’t been an easy one. Nor had it been simple to explain why he did so to his family. His brothers hadn’t understood and decided it was his airships dictating his decision. He’d allowed them to continue to believe that.
If he had it to do over, he’d tell them the truth. Even now, he sometimes wished his ghosts were real. If they had been, he’d address Alisdair first, as the oldest. Then James, waiting until his brother’s mischievous twinkle sobered.
Would it have changed anything? No, but at least he wouldn’t have been left with this feeling that he’d not been honest.
“I’m stopping,” he said to Tom, who, until a week ago, had been more than happy to work in the stable. In the past week, however, the boy had gotten a touch of airship enchantment and was checking all the seams in the balloon Montgomery would take up in a few days to test the air currents.
“You can give it up for the day, Tom,” he said, guessing that if the boy had his wish, he’d keep working.
“If you don’t mind, Your Lordship,” he said, “I’ll finish what I’ve started.”
He nodded, approving of Tom’s work habits. All the people employed here were the same, leading him to wonder if being industrious as well as capable were traits of the Scots, or if they were reserved for those who worked at Doncaster Hall.
Gloaming had settled around Doncaster Hall by the time he entered the front door. Ralston wasn’t at his post, but that in itself wasn’t unusual since Ralston had, for the last several weeks, been absent, devoting himself to errands necessary for the care and maintenance of Montgomery’s airships. Yet when he went in search of Veronica, he couldn’t find her, either.
He wondered if he’d missed dinner again and consulted his pocket watch to ensure he hadn’t. Mrs. Brody, always assiduous in her duties, sent a maid to the distillery with provisions each day, in case he grew hungry or thirsty while working. Therefore, hunger was never a distraction.
Mrs. Brody, also, was not to be found.
He strode toward the Armory, intent on asking Edmund if he knew the whereabouts of the inhabitants of Doncaster Hall, only to be halted at the doorway by the sight before him.
One of the tables had been moved from another room, covered in a white cloth, and placed in the middle of the Armory. Five chairs sat around the rectangular table, several of them occupied by people he sought.
Edmund sat at the head of the table. To his right was Veronica, with Elspeth beside her. Mrs. Brody and a young woman he didn’t recognize made up the rest of the group. The wall sconces had been extinguished. The only lighting in the room was a lone candle in the middle of the table.
No one noticed he was standing there, so he moved into the shadows, folded his arms, and leaned against the wall. He knew what they were doing. His Aunt Penelope had conducted numerous séances in an effort to reach her son and husband. No one had attempted to stop her since she seemed to gain some comfort from her spiritualistic sessions.
What he couldn’t understand was why Edmund was leading the group.
Something caught his attention, a black space where there should have been a wall. He walked to it and realized part of the wall was ajar. Doncaster Hall evidently had some secrets. He peered inside and could see the shadow of a step.
“Please don’t shut it,” Veronica said.
He glanced back at her to find she was still staring intently at the candle.
“You need to be very quiet, Montgomery. We’re summoning spirits.”
“Why?” he asked. “Who?”
Edmund startled him by turning and sending him an irritated glance.
“There have been a variety of disturbances at Doncaster Hall, Your Lordship, ever since you ascended to the title. We are trying to contact the 10thLord Fairfax to see if he is displeased.”
