“I’ll find out,” he murmured, examining her lowered face closely, though it gave very little away. She did not seem cheered at the thought of concerts or new dresses, which won his sympathies as he himself preferred less frippery in both men’s and women’s clothing. Her hands were tightly clenched, as though they fought for control. He decided to pry, just a little.
“I heard your father say that the Lord Paramount envisions some duty for you at court. Have you any idea what that might be?”
Her hands twisted and she shook her head. “No, I don’t. And when he mentioned querying what the Lord Paramount might have in mind, I begged him to let the matter alone until we know better what we’re doing here. Delia thought it wisest, also. You know, I sometimes think Delia knows more that’s going on than I do.”
He chuckled. “She probably does. Certain subjects seem to be taboo among the courtiers, either that or they’re talking in a code I don’t understand, but the servants speak as they like, especially when they are in their own quarters where no one bothers them, or even notices them. In the army, it’s the same with the enlisted men. Most officers don’t listen to their talk. I do, because I was one of them, and knowledge picked up in the lat—ah, parade ground is better than ignorance fostered in the drawing room. If Delia trusts you, perhaps she will tell you what she hears.”
They fell silent for a moment, each much occupied in looking at the other. In the space between them, the air wavered before Genevieve’s eyes, like rippled water, then cleared to display a city, squat and earth-colored against a bloody sky. A huge voice sang in the silence, but she could not understand the words. She looked down at her hands, and they were red with blood. Blackness swept around her.
He reached out to her, too late, for she had slumped to the floor all at once, limply and without a sound.
“All right, Jenny, what is this?” he growled, falling to his knees beside her, putting one arm beneath her shoulders to lift her.
She opened her eyes and stared wonderingly into his face as he held her close, her head lying against his shoulder.
“Tell me,” he urged, his voice shaking. “You’ve done this twice. Once at the dinner, then again today. Are you not well? What is this?” He shook her, as he might shake a child, gently, almost pleadingly.
“I saw . . .” she murmured, only half aware of his presence. “I saw a city made of earth, with earthen walls. I heard a voice sing loudly, like a great trumpet blowing. My hands had blood on them . . .”
He picked her up and placed her in a large chair away from the window, keeping his arm around her, thrilling to the touch of her as he had when they had danced together, having the same trouble hiding it now as then. “And the other night?”
She shook her head wonderingly. “I was watching a shipwreck. There were people struggling in the water . . .”
He breathed deeply and stepped away. “And are these the first such visions? No, I can see it in your face. They are not. There have been others?”
“Yes, Aufors.” She lowered her face, as though shamed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he cried. “You should have told me. You might have needed . . . needed someone.”
“I had someone. Mrs. Blessingham, at school. She always . . . tended to things. Once she found out my visions really . . .”
“Really what?”
“. . . really happened.”
“You’re a seeress?” He doubted seeresses, but he did not doubt this woman. So. She was a seeress?
“Shhh, Aufors. Father will hear you.”
“He doesn’t know?”
“Of course not. He’d be furious. He doesn’t even like to talk about such things. Mother . . . Mother knew. She was like me. According to the Duchess, Alicia, so was her mother and her daughter. We’re related, she says. Several generations back.”
“Tell me what you’ve seen that came true?” he demanded, sounding impatient, even to himself, but so eager to help her that he needed to know immediately, without delay!