procure another position, or get married, she’d have no real reason to keep in touch—Emmeline had her own family. Three sisters and both parents. Even Ogden had relations. No children, and his parents were deceased, but he had a smattering of nieces and nephews he saw at Christmastime. Sometimes with Elsie in tow, sometimes without. Because while Ogden really was like a father to her, he wasn’t her father. He and his family had no true obligation to her.
The ride home was uneventful, especially since Emmeline had now thoroughly engrossed herself in the novel reader and did not come up for air until they arrived in Brookley. Only once they were inside did Emmeline hand the story back and grab her apron.
Elsie watched her, bemused. “What are you smiling about?”
The maid giggled. “There’s kissing.”
Elsie blinked and opened the magazine, trying to guess what page Emmeline had left off on. Kissing? How scandalous!
Her ears heated, which was, of course, foolish. She’d been kissed before, though that had been some time ago.
Horse hooves sounded outside, but Elsie didn’t pay them much mind. She tucked the novel reader away and grabbed a second apron. “Let me help you. I’m famished.” And need to occupy myself.
“Just cold cuts and potatoes, I think.” Emmeline had a peeler in her hand. “Could you set water on the stove?”
Elsie grabbed a pot and filled it at the pump sink, set it on the stove, and stoked the fire. “I might eat them raw at this point.”
Emmeline snickered. “Won’t take too long, not if I cut them extra small.”
A knock sounded on the front door.
“Emmeline!” Ogden yelled from upstairs. He always went straight upstairs after church. He hated his formal attire.
“I’ll get it.” Taking off her apron and wiping her hands on it, Elsie hurried to the studio. It was Sunday, so the front door was locked, but on occasion a visitor still popped by. Ogden might have invited someone for tea. Elsie stashed the apron under the counter before coming around to unbolt the door.
Bacchus Kelsey stood on the other side.
CHAPTER 14
Elsie gawked at him a long moment. Then she shoved him from the doorway, followed him outside, and closed the door behind her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a hard whisper. Her heart was beating too fast for it to be explained by the effort of pushing the door, and her blasted ears were heating again. She swept back a few curls in an attempt to hide the color.
“I need your help.” His voice sounded wary. He was well groomed, but there was a tiredness about his eyes and a tightness to his features, as though he hadn’t relaxed in days. He was close enough for her to smell wood, citrus, and mushroom.
She could faintly sense the spell beneath his clothes.
Releasing the door handle, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing that was not wrong before.” He grasped his hands behind his back. “But I need to know what the second spell is. It’s driving me mad.”
She nodded, slowly. It would drive her mad as well. “I might have to take off the temporal one first. They’re right on top of each other.”
“I know.” He glanced toward the heavy carriage outside the house. That wouldn’t draw attention at all. “Which is why I need you to meet with the aspector who placed it, so he can replace it after we’ve sorted this out. I dare not let too much time pass without it.”
Elsie opened her mouth. Closed it. Her stomach wound in knots. Jerking her head toward the back of the house, she tromped around the corner to wait for him. The moment Mr. Kelsey came into view, she said, “I can see two very large issues with that. First, the Temporal Atheneum is in Newcastle upon Tyne. That’s, what, eight, nine days away? I can’t just leave for a fortnight. Second, as previously discussed, I don’t have a ready chaperone.” And she wouldn’t get one. How much harder would it be to hide her spellbreaking abilities with an old matron following her every move?
“I can pay you.”
That perked her interest. “Well, that’s certainly a better offer than blackmail.”
He looked satisfactorily mortified. “Elsie—”
“Also, what am I to do, hide out in the brush with you to take off the spell? Then sit on my backside while you run in and get the spell replaced?”
He let out a long breath. “Master Pierrelo will not ask to see your registration. No one will. It’s in bad taste.”
Rolling her lips