Chapter 26

C HAPTER 26

The day of the wedding dawned warm and overcast, and was not attended by thunderstorms or earthquakes or cyclones, despite Hester's opinion on the matter.

"So difficult to get good cyclones at this time of year," murmured Imogene, sliding down the church pew with Hester.

"It might have made an effort."

"The ceremony hasn't started yet."

Their conversation was interrupted by the priest, who hurried up to tell Lady Hester how very gratified he was to see her, how honored he was that Squire Chatham had chosen their little chapel, how lovely the flowers looked, how exceedingly honored he was, and how much happiness he wished for the bride and groom. Hester smiled warmly and told him that it was well-deserved, that she knew her brother was grateful that the priest had managed to arrange the wedding so quickly, and that they would not forget his kindness. The priest pressed her hand, gasped something incoherent, and had to hurry behind the altar to regain his composure.

"Has he been like this the whole time?" Imogene asked.

"Very nearly. Poor boy."

"He barely looks any older than Jacob. I can't imagine calling him Father and pouring out my sins."

"Fortunately I haven't been to confession in a very long time."

Imogene clucked her tongue. "I shudder to think of the state of your soul."

"I'm sure it's no worse than yours."

"I go to confession whenever the guilt gets to be too much."

"And how often is that?"

"It hasn't happened yet, but you never know. Our dear Father Reynard lives in hope, anyway."

The few guests filled the rest of the pews. Cordelia sat in the row ahead of them. Her hair was pinned up neatly and her neck looked as fragile as a flower stem. Richard sat down beside her, as befitted a fiancé, though he winked at Hester over her head.

Hester's brother wore a new suit, with a deep blue waistcoat. He stood by the altar looking desperately uncomfortable, and Hester entertained a brief hope that he might be having second thoughts. Not that Samuel would abandon a bride at the altar. He'd sooner sell his best hunter for dog food.

She still hadn't quite worked out how she was going to disentangle Samuel. Once they were wed, there was no reason Doom couldn't actively bespell him. Hester's only hope was that they would find a way to break her power and prove her crimes sufficiently for the Squire to cast her aside.

Imogene's suggestion was rather more practical. "Let's just kill her," she had suggested, "dump the body somewhere, and never tell anyone about it."

"Can we actually do that?" Cordelia had asked.

"No," said Richard.

"I don't see why not," said Imogene.

"No one is killing anyone, " Hester said firmly.

"Thank you," said Richard.

"… At least not until we've figured out how to keep her from doing something horrible and magical that takes us all with her."

Richard, who was fundamentally an honorable man, folded his arms and tried not to look completely appalled. "I was not expecting this house party to involve quite so much premeditated murder," he muttered.

"If the alternative is having my brother end up like Parker, I'll premeditate all kinds of murders," Hester told him, "with a song in my heart."

"Fair enough."

"You wouldn't be complaining if she was a man," muttered Imogene.

"If she was a man, I'd challenge her to a duel and be done with the matter."

"She'd make you obedient," said Cordelia softly, "and make you miss. Or shoot yourself instead." Which had ended the discussion completely, so far as that went.

The church doors opened and Doom entered. Her gown was a deep ivory color that flattered her skin and brought out warm highlights in her chestnut hair. Samuel turned to look at her and his eyes bugged a little. So much for second thoughts.

The ceremony itself was swift. The priest wisely opted not to preach a sermon, and he only stumbled over the ritual words a little. Bride and groom each took a sip from the cup of wine, accepted the brittle wafer of salt, and washed it down with water from the second cup.

Cordelia had told her repeatedly that the Squire wasn't bespelled, and that her mother wasn't using glamours on her appearance. Hester hadn't doubted her, but she'd still held out a slim hope that something would happen—that Samuel would suddenly leap back and demand to know what was happening, or that an illusion would break and Doom would turn out to be a gnarled old crone with donkey ears or something equally heartening.

But nothing did happen, except that the priest said "I pronounce you man and wife!" and Samuel planted a smacking kiss on Doom's lips and sealed the bargain.

I see them!

Cordelia nearly jumped out of her skin when the ghost spoke to her in the middle of the wedding. She didn't yelp, but it was a near thing. Evermore glanced at her, brow furrowed in concern, and she shook her head.

I can see everyone! Maybe it's the church—the holy ground—I don't know! You're not just blobs anymore. There's Hester and Imogene and the Squire and—

Penelope's voice cut off abruptly, almost as startling as its arrival. Cordelia waited all through the ceremony, but she didn't speak again, and there was no way to whisper a question without someone noticing.

When the bride and groom had left the chapel and the rest of the guests began to file out, she paused as if to admire a flower arrangement, and whispered "Penelope?" behind her hand.

No response.

Did Mother notice her somehow? If she could see everyone more clearly, did that mean that other people could see her more clearly? She stopped talking right after she mentioned the Squire, and Mother was right beside him.

Did Mother do something to her? Or did the water, wine, and salt banish her? She's a ghost, and ghosts aren't supposed to like water or salt or holy ground… although I'm not sure how they feel about wine…

Cordelia mulled those questions over all through the return to the estate and the interminably long wedding breakfast. Everyone even remotely associated with Chatham House came to wish the couple well and help themselves to free food. Evangeline smiled and glittered through the entire meal, thanking everyone and curling her hands around the Squire's elbow every few minutes.

It was a very different Evangeline who came to Cordelia's rooms after breakfast. Alice said "Excuse me, ma'am—" but the door was already open and Evangeline pushed past her without a glance.

"Leave us," she instructed the maid. Alice looked at Cordelia, who was busy packing her trunks. Cordelia nodded hurriedly. There was nothing Alice could do to help, and now that her mother was lady of the manor, there was no limit to what cruelties she could get away with.

"Well," said Evangeline, stretching. "At least that's over with." She took a step forward, her eyes hardening. "Now. Is there something you want to tell me, dear?"

Uh-oh. That was a bad sign. Cordelia tried desperately to think of some infraction she might have committed. Other than, you know, conspiring with her enemies. "Con-congratulations?" she hazarded.

Her mother's fingers closed over her chin. Cordelia felt the scrape of long nails against her throat as she swallowed. That wasn't it. It's something else. But what? There were too many possibilities. Her mother had always been infuriated by things that Cordelia never suspected.

"In the chapel…" said Evangeline, in a crooning singsong that made Cordelia's skin go clammy with sweat.

The chapel. She did see Penelope there. Fear for the poor lost ghost warred with relief that the plot against Evangeline had not been discovered. At least it gave her a direction to point her lies. "I-I-I felt something. Er, thought I felt something. I wasn't sure. Was there actually something there?"

A puzzled line formed between her mother's eyebrows. "What did you feel?"

"I…" Was there anything she could say that wouldn't get Penelope in trouble? Then again, she was already dead, so how much more trouble could there be? "I don't know," Cordelia said. "I thought I heard someone talking?"

Evangeline gave her chin a quick little shake, like a terrier with a rat. "What did they say?"

"I couldn't make it out. It was a long way away, or maybe it wasn't, but it felt like it was—" Cordelia knew that she was making no sense, but ignorance was almost always safer where her mother was concerned. "And it was cold? Maybe? But not like real cold?" The line between her mother's eyes slowly faded and relief flooded Cordelia's veins. "I'm sorry," she finished. "I don't know how to explain it any better than that."

Evangeline's eyes bored into hers. Those long nails scraped across her jaw. "So it wasn't you who tried to pull the cup from my hands."

" What? " Her astonishment must have been so clearly unfeigned that Evangeline dropped her. "How could I—I was nowhere near —"

Her mother gave a short huff of laughter. "No, of course not. Never mind."

She turned away. Cordelia licked dry lips. "But there was something there? I wasn't imagining it?"

Evangeline moved with the speed of a striking snake, spinning around, one hand raised. She was almost to the door and nowhere near Cordelia, but the motion was so startling that Cordelia squeaked with alarm.

In the next instant, the world seemed to leap around her. Her ears rang as if she'd been standing too near a gunshot, and her heart stuttered in her chest, then came back with a rapid thud. Cordelia pressed a hand to it, gasping. There wasn't enough air in her lungs, in the room, possibly in the world.

"Huh," her mother said. "You didn't try to dodge that at all, did you?"

"Dodge…" She managed to drag in a breath. It was hard to think over the ringing in her ears. "Dodge… what? What… happened?"

"Now don't be cross with me," Evangeline said, taking her shoulder and leading her to a chair. "I had to check. "

Cordelia knew that she only sounded so petulant when she'd done something. It was magic of some kind, then. She hit me? With magic?

She hit me just to see if I'd get out of the way?

"You'll be fine," Evangeline said, avoiding Cordelia's stunned gaze. "It was only a tap. I had to be sure. Go finish packing. Tomorrow we'll see this manor that your fiancé thinks so highly of."

And with that, she got up and left the room before Cordelia's ears had stopped ringing.

In the end, Alice took most of the clothes out of the suitcase and repacked them in a rather more efficient manner, while Cordelia stood around feeling useless. Her ears were no longer ringing, but when she moved her head too quickly in any direction, it throbbed and black spots danced across her vision.

She pled lack of hunger after the enormous wedding breakfast and dined in her room. Even then, she couldn't bring herself to eat more than a few bites. Food seemed like a bizarre habit. You used your teeth to gnaw off a hunk of something and then tried to force it down your throat with the back of your tongue, while dry bits stuck to the roof of your mouth. Whose idea was this? This is absurd.

Alice took the tray away after she had mangled the pastries into crumbs. "Not feeling quite the thing?"

"Not really. It's good food! Please tell the cook it was! I just can't seem to… to quite believe in eating right now." Which sounded silly, so she tried to explain, and eventually found herself saying, very earnestly, "Why do tongues even exist ?," and gave up.

One corner of Alice's mouth crooked up during her recitation. "I'll make sure Cook doesn't feel like it's a reflection on her."

"Thank you."

The maid slowed as she neared the door. "Ah… forgive me, miss, but… are you all right? Your mother came in here earlier, and I know that sometimes that takes you hard."

I believe she hit me with some kind of magic spell, just to see if I could dodge it. This would have been much worse than asking why tongues existed, so Cordelia shook her head and said, "I'll be fine after a night's sleep. And she's leaving for her honeymoon soon."

Alice nodded and slipped out of the room.

Cordelia sighed and poured a cup of water out from the pitcher. She had barely taken the first sip when Penelope's voice exploded into her head.

What did you just do!?

Cordelia dropped the cup with a yelp. The handle broke off when it hit the floor, and she yelped again.

"Cordelia!" The door banged open as Alice rushed in. "Are you all right, miss?"

Sorry, sorry! The scent of watercress filled the air with eye-watering strength. Cordelia wiped her eyes frantically.

"Did you cut yourself? Sit down here and let me look."

"No, no, I'm fine. I just…" Tell her a ghost yelled at you. That will go over wonderfully. "… uh, the mug slipped. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to break it. Maybe we can glue it back?"

"I'm sure someone can," said Alice, more reassuring than truthful. "Let me fetch a dustpan, and careful where you step."

When she was gone, Cordelia whispered, "Penelope? What happened to you? Are you okay?"

Insomuch as I'm still dead, not exactly. Other than that, I'm fine.

"Errr… well, yes. You broke off so fast earlier, I was afraid something had happened to you."

Cinnamon air swirled around her. My own stupidity, I'm afraid. I could see actual objects. I haven't been able to see those since I died.

"What were they?"

The altar. And on top of it, the water, wine, and salt. They were real. As solid as anything. The priest picked up the water and I tried to pull it out of his hand, just to see if I could actually touch it.

And then Evangeline took the cup and her hand went through me.

Cordelia inhaled sharply. That must be what her mother had felt, and for some reason she thought Cordelia had tried to pull the cup from her hands. Which made no sense at all. "She felt you."

Oh, I know. I heard her say "Now, what are you?" as clearly as you talking to me. So I ran. Everything went to blobs as soon as I left the edge of the churchyard, but I didn't dare get close to her again.

Cordelia couldn't blame her. Left to her own devices, she would never get close to her mother again.

It was very odd about the water, wine, and salt, though. When they drank the wine, it was like… oh blast, I don't have a word for it! It rang like a bell, but I'm not sure if it was really a sound. And then the salt rang too, when they ate it, and the two made a harmony together, and then the water. I was running away then, but I could hear it behind me, all three of them together ringing so loud that it drowned out everything.

Maybe that's why I got away, because she couldn't see me through the ringing.

"That sounds like magic," said Cordelia. "Or maybe the opposite of magic. Maybe that's why they break spells together?"

Maybe. I don't think I would have wanted to stay there, even if Evangeline hadn't seen me. It felt like it might have drowned me out, too.

Alice came back in and hastily swept up the shards of crockery. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine. Just… um… tired, I guess." Cordelia tried to smile.

Alice paused, still holding the dustpan. "It won't be so bad, going to Evermore House, miss. No one in service has any complaints of him."

Cordelia was sure her face looked as blank as her mind felt. "Err… good?"

"If you were worried about that, I mean."

"Oh."

They stared at each other for a moment over the broken cup; then Alice curtsied— how can she do that so well when she's carrying a dustpan? I must get her to teach me —and left, shutting the door behind her.

Alone again? Good. What were you doing, just now? When I yelled?

"Having a drink of water?"

Do it again, if you would.

Puzzled, Cordelia scooped up a palmful of water and sipped.

There! Yes! It happened again!

"What happened?"

The water. When you drank it, it rang, like it did in the church. Not as loud, but a little bit. And I could see it.

Do you have any salt?

"There's probably a saltcellar in the breakfast room." Cordelia wasn't looking forward to sneaking down there, past Alice, to try and find one, and wine, of course, was out of the question. "Wait, though. You should know that we're leaving tomorrow. Going to Lord Evermore's estate."

You are? A mournful drift of cinnamon filled the room. That's so far away.

"Are you still going to be able to talk to me?"

I don't know. It gets very dark when I get too far from living people. Like a night with no stars and no moon. I've gone to the edge of the estate a few times, but I'm afraid that if I go too far, I'll get turned around and never find my way back.

"Don't do that! I'm sure I'll be back here… err… eventually. When we find out how to stop my mother. Maybe we can find a way then."

Maybe. Although ghosts are supposed to haunt the place they died, aren't they? Maybe I can't leave here at all.

"I'm sorry."

She sensed a gathering, a determined cheer. Don't fret about me. What's the worst that can happen? I'm already dead.

"I won't forget you're here," Cordelia promised.

Of course you won't. I am… I was… Penelope Green. Some people may have hated me, but nobody ever forgot me.