Page 107 of The Siren of Sussex

“Not only that,” Evelyn went on. “Lady Arundell is trying to arrange a visit with this boy in Birmingham. The one who claims to have received messages from Prince Albert. She and my uncle want to test his veracity, and they believe I might be capable of helping them to do it.”

“Because of your gift,” he said dryly.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“Had you been there, you’d have seen how earnest they were. They truly seemed to believe they’d seen something in the crystal ball.”

“Did you?” he asked.

Her gaze slid from his. She smoothed her gloves.

His interest was instantly aroused. “You saw something?”

“Not to speak of.” She hesitated. “That is . . . I might have done.” Another pause. “After a time staring into the crystal, I thought I saw the face of . . . of someone I know.”

“Of course you did.”

She flashed him a sharp glance. “That doesn’t surprise you?”

“Not at all.”

“I don’t have a gift,” she informed him.

“A gift isn’t required to see things in a crystal. No more than it is when one is performing automatic writing. The visions and words that materialize have nothing to do with the spirits. They come from the practitioner’s own mind.”

The brougham jolted them close again. Her knees briefly bumped his through the countless layers of her petticoats and crinoline. “You’re saying that it’s all a deception?”

“Not in the way you mean.” He was silent a moment. “When I was a boy, there was a man in my village who used to stare into a bowl of water. It was a form of meditation. Something to clear his thoughts and focus his mind. It helped him to make decisions. To ascertain what it was he truly wanted.”

“You’re speaking of water divination.”

“Call it what you will,” Ahmad said. “Crystal gazing is no different. The longer one stares, the more chance there is that one’s own thoughts and feelings will manifest. Images of long-lost loved ones and the like.”

“But it isn’t only the dead who manifest.”

“No. People are as likely to see their deepest desires. The dark and the light. An enemy on whom they wish ill. Or a person for whom they cherish a regard.”

“In other words, the visions are all in their head.”

He shrugged. “People see what they wish to see. Staring into something like a crystal or a candle flame merely helps to reveal what it is they truly want.”

She was noticeably quiet.

He wondered if he’d offended her. “I don’t discount the presence of other forces. If you believe in spirits—”

“I don’t believe in them. What you’ve said makes perfect sense.” She tugged at the thumb of her glove, her expression preoccupied. “I wonder why Zadkiel would tell my uncle that I had a powerful energy.”

Ahmad didn’t have to guess. “These charlatans make their fortunes on being at the forefront of fashionable society.”

“But I’m not at the forefront.”

“Not yet. But you’re beautiful and fascinating. And you’re dressed like no other lady in London. He’d have to be blind not to see it. Your star is ascending.”

She turned in her seat, bumping against his outstretched arm. He set his hand on her shoulder to steady her. An instinctive movement. He meant nothing untoward by it.

It nevertheless ratcheted the intimacy of the moment up by several degrees.