Page 119 of The Siren of Sussex

Never mind that he’d rejected her.

Her spirits sank to recall it. But she didn’t indulge the feeling. Hephaestus still needed exercising. And Ahmad’s designs still needed showing off.

It was that which had got her out of bed this morning when she’d awakened, heartsick and tempted to wallow in her own misery.

She continued down the steps, one gloved hand trailing lightly on the curving bannister. “Where have you been today?”

“In conference with Lady Arundell.” Uncle Harris removed his hat and coat and passed them to a waiting footman. “A few points have arisen about this boy medium in Birmingham. Indeed, you may be capable of rendering me some assistance.”

“In what regard?”

Her uncle didn’t answer, merely strode off down the hall.

She hesitated for an instant. She’d promised to meet Stella at the Hyde Park Corner end of Rotten Row at half past five on the dot. It wouldn’t do to be late.

Then again, Evelyn must take her opportunities where she found them.

She quickly caught up with her uncle, following him into his study. It was in the same state of outrageous disarray as on every other occasion she’d visited. The one room in the house the servants weren’t allowed to tidy.

Uncle Harris plopped down behind his cluttered desk. “A brief question or two on the subject of spiritual amplification.”

“Spiritual what?”

He waved his hand in a vague swirling gesture. “This energy you possess. Her ladyship claims it amplifies the spirits’ ability to make contact. Helps them to project a clear message.”

Evelyn frowned. “How can she possibly know?”

“Her familiar spirit conveyed it to her only this morning. Dmitri, he calls himself. Dashed contradictory fellow, if you ask me. But he confirms Zadkiel’s opinion about your gifts.”

“With respect, sir, Zadkiel was spouting nonsense. And as for Dmitri, I don’t believe—”

“Which brings me to my first question.” Her uncle leaned across his desk, his gaze narrowing over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. “What does this energy feel like?”

Evelyn sighed. “I don’t feel any particular energy. Certainly nothing of an otherworldly nature.”

He clucked his tongue. “No strange sensations? Vibrations in your limbs or midsection?”

Her cheeks warmed. Last night, she had felt strange vibrations in both her limbs and her midsection. They’d been inspired by Ahmad’s kisses.

But such feelings weren’t supernatural. They were all too human. Emotional. Physical.

Deliciously physical.

Were ladies supposed to enjoy such activities? Evelyn wondered.

“No, sir,” she said. “Nothing of the kind.”

“What about messages?” he asked.

“Messages from whom?”

“Words of import from beyond the veil. Instructions sent to guide us.”

A rogue thought occurred to her.

She took a step closer to her uncle’s desk, choosing her next words with care. “I sometimes experience a very strong sense of things. An impression of something I must say to someone. I suppose you might call it a message.”

Uncle Harris’s face lit with excitement. “From the spirit realm?”