The Medium

I gritted my teeth. I couldn't afford to ruin this one chance. "I am not a fraud, Lord Preston. And I would appreciate it if you'd refrain from judging me until you've heard what I've come to say."

He bristled, straightening to his full height. "I do not like your tone, young lady. Your boldness does you no credit. No son of mine would ever communicate with the likes of you, whether he was alive or dead."

"The likes of me? As I said, I am not a fraud and I'll-."

"I wasn't referring to your so-called occupation."

I felt the impact of his words like a slap to the face. He was referring to my un-English appearance or my lowly birth or perhaps both. There simply was no argument to either of those facts so I said nothing and glanced at Lady Preston then Adelaide.

The former remained standing at the window, unmoving, but the latter had lowered her gaze to her lap. I couldn't see her expression. It didn't matter. What mattered was that she no longer tried to defend me. I had no allies in that room.

Jacob had been right. It was wrong of me to have come.

Oh Jacob. I'm so sorry I couldn't help them.

I glanced once more at his mother. She was terribly thin. I'd never seen a waist so tiny or a neck so delicate. A big sneeze might snap her. She moved but only to reach out to the window and slide a finger down the glass as if caressing it. What did she see out there? Did she hope to see Jacob strolling past? Would it be so awful if she knew he was dead?

"You used to sing These Rolling Hills to him when he was young," I said to her.

She spun round so fast it caught us all by surprise. No one else spoke, not even Lord Preston to chastise me. "How do you know that?"

"He told me." "Jacob?"

I nodded.

"Enough!" Lord Preston strode to the door and called for the butler. "You'll disrupt this house no more with your lies, Miss Chambers."

But I wasn't watching him anymore, I was looking at his wife. She came towards me, slowly, almost gliding across the floor the way people who can't see ghosts expect them to move. "How do you know that?" she asked.

"She made it up of course," Lord Preston blustered.

"She can't have."

"She must have heard it from someone. Paid a servant, Jacob's old nurse...someone like that. Don't fall for her lies, my dear, she's a fraud."

"A fraud who doesn't want money?" Adelaide scoffed but her flare of defiance dampened beneath her father's glacial glare.