thick cushions. Electric lanterns filled the small room with a dingy yellow light, mixing with the sunlight glowing through the single window. The remains of a fire blinked at her with a dozen red eyes. Shelves on either side of the hearth sagged under the weight of the innumerable books piled on them. Victoria started searching for familiar titles, but quickly chided herself for expecting a scholar to own any of the Gothic romance novels she fancied.
James went to the desk and rummaged through the drawers. After two failed searches, he produced a dark green bottle and a pair of snifters from a third drawer. Glass clinked against glass as he filled the snifters. Crossing over to the other chair, he offered her one of the glasses before sitting.
"In memory of your parents," James said, lifting his glass. She touched hers against it and brought the liquid to her lips. Checking to make sure James was occupied with his own drink, she gave the contents a quick sniff. It smelled of apples and cinnamon. Satisfied, she drained her glass. The cider was sweetened with honey and not too strong. She thought it an odd thing for a man to drink in the privacy of his study, but perhaps he kept the bottle on hand for visiting women. The founding of St. Hugh's College at Oxford meant that he must entertain them regularly now, she supposed.
James set his glass on the carpet beside his chair. "I must apologize for the surroundings," he said. "I'm sure they aren't what you expected when I invited you to visit the office of an Oxford professor." She opened her mouth to reply, but he continued over her. "To be honest, they aren't what I expected when my associates offered me the position. One typically doesn't associate the world of Oxford University with closet-sized offices in rundown buildings, but here we are." He laughed at that. "I do sometimes wonder if I've moved up in station at all since leaving Lord Harcourt's employ. He did always say I was lacking in wit.
"But I digress," he said, straightening up and looking at her. "Perhaps I should apologize for my indiscretions instead of my surroundings. Here I am blathering on about myself when you have such a weight of your own to bear."
"It's quite all right," Victoria said. In truth, she didn't mind his prattling; it saved her from having to bring up an awkward topic. "You are aware of my reasons for coming to see you?"
"I gathered some of it from your letters. You wish to discuss the circumstances surrounding the death of your parents and feel that my particular expertise may be of some use." When Victoria nodded, the scholar sighed. "I'm not sure how much assistance I can provide, you understand, but I will do what I can."
"I appreciate your time." Taking a deep breath, Victoria made herself look him in the eye. "I believe my parents were killed by supernatural forces."
To his credit, James Townsend did not laugh or raise a skeptical brow. Instead, he merely cocked his head to one side and studied her through his spectacles. "What gave rise to this belief?"
"My own eyes," she replied. She recounted the events of that night, everything she could remember. The story sounded absurd even as she told it, but James listened with rapt attention. When she finished, he leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin.
After a few minutes of silence, Victoria said, "I've not gone mad."
"No indeed," James replied. "I'd not even considered it, in fact."
"So you believe my story?"
He nodded. "It is a fantastic one, I must admit. In that, at least, it is fortunate you found my name among your father's letters. Had you approached any of my colleagues regarding this matter, I daresay you would have found them far more skeptical. Worthy men, all of them, but perhaps a bit too cloistered in their thinking. Such matters are more academic than pragmatic for them, you see."
"But not for you?"
"Oh, no. You see, I alone of them - to my knowledge, at least - have practical experience with these sorts of things."
Victoria leaned forward. "You have experience with the creatures that attacked my family?"
"No, not them per se," James admitted, "although I am familiar with the stories regarding such creatures." Standing up, he moved to one of the cluttered shelves and began scanning the titles. "One hears reports of them all over England, though their exact nature and behavior, even