We have continued to receive guests and revelations this evening.

I had just finished jotting a note to Miss Chigwidgeon and putting the garters I am loaning her for the ceremony into a discreet parcel
when Mr Frazer returned to our rooms. He had barely enough time to change for dinner. I felt dreadfully tired, and considered having something sent up instead of going down to dine, but the thought of missing what news there might be quashed the notion quickly.

I heard the arrival of Miss Whitnell's oldest brother and the dreaded sister-in-law. I also heard great exclamations when the third of their party was revealed–MissWhitnell's youngest brother James had come along as well.

As we gathered in the parlour before the final bell for supper, Mrs Cuthbert circulated to tell us quietly that she had received a message from the Office of the Lord High Warlock. The investigation into the death of Mr Wroth has taken a conclusive turn in London.

We later heard the details: according to the message, one of the footmen of the Wroth household had been influenced hypnogogically. Once the investigators had removed the blockage to his memory, he clearly remembered retrieving a bottle of strychnine and hiding it in the study. The revelation that he had done this senseless thing convinced the unfortunate footman that he had gone mad and murdered his Employer. He could not bear this, and took his own life. He left a note which takes the burden of guilt onto himself, and consequently cleared Sir Cosmo.

The public will probably not need to hear about the next part of the murder, in which Mr Wroth himself was possessed or mesmerised, and locked himself into his study, found the poison hidden by his footman, ingested it, and died.

I thought it horribly negligent of the Warlock's officers to leave a man in such a state alone...they had gone off to confer about the safest way to cover over the memories again, but when they returned to him it was too late.

We had scarcely begun our consideration of this sad story when a great clatter of hooves sounded in the drive. I heard the Marquis arrive in his quick little gig, and I soon learned that he had brought M. Manfred Berri along with him. I found this quite singular.

M Berri had brought a wedding gift for Sir Cosmo and Miss Chigwidgeon, on behalf of Admiral le Coq: a silver wine service. It is quite lovely, and I'm sure it will be much cherished among the several wine services in the mountain of gifts.

There was also a gift for Edward, which M. Berri insisted was to be personally delivered. I conducted him to the Nursery, past the still sullen Lady Clara and Miss Betty, who had lost their privilege of dining in one of the Parlours since they had insisted on complaining about not dining with the adults.

We found Wilhelmina in one of the inner rooms. I explained M Berri's errand and suggested that Miss Wilhelmina should go to the stable to find Edward. M Berri had the temerity to sound exasperated in saying, "Is this charade really necessary?"

I was rather sharp in pointing out that we had played along with his –that is to say Her–similar duplicity, and who was he–She–to be so superior. I think he was surprised that we had recognised the truth. Wilhelmina went so far as to ask her real name and not be satisfied until she had mumbled "Theresa." I hope we shall see a little less smugness from this quarter in future.

M Berri presented the gift–a copy of the current edition of Le Bulletin de la Société des Naturalistes Parisiens ( I hope Edward will loan it to me when he has finished reading it). I then conducted M Berri back to the parlour and rejoined the discussions there.

When at last we went in to dinner, the table was quite lengthened, even since yesterday. Dinner went fairly smoothly. I noticed Miss Whitnell exchange meaningful looks as I heard another conveyance in the drive outside, and Miss Whitnell rose from the table to investigate. She seemed to decide that nothing was amiss and she returned to her dinner without much fuss.

After dinner, I learned that this arrival was Hauptman Schneider of the Prussian Special Forces, newly come from Berlin to deliver yet more gifts. He brought a familiar-looking large packing case–the very one that had contained the Anarchists' ornithopter and which we had used to send the captured Anarchists off to Kapitan Wymms.

Fortunately, it did not presently have any Anarchists inside, but rather a set of very large and ornate bronze candelabra . Mrs Cuthbert identified them as having been in Herr Bopp's private study (which she had seen in a vision). No doubt the Kapitan (or as I should now say the Kommandant, or the Count) thought it very amusing to foist some undesired furnishings off on a dubious English ally after he had taken over Herr Bopp's post and offices. Count Wymms' new bride Lady Sophia added a more conventional gift of a set of pretty crystal goblets.

After dinner and the obligatory time making small talk with other ladies in the Drawing Room, the League re-convened in one of the smaller parlours.

1) First, we were all gathered to witness Sir Cosmo's presentation of a gift to Miss Chigwidgeon–this was an antique inlaid globe, quite deftly worked, dating from the 16th century. The stand of the globe was made in the shape of little ships worked in gold and gems. Frankly, I thought the whole thing rather overdone, but Miss Chigwidgeon seemed to like it. I think she mostly enjoyed hearing Sir Cosmo tell the story of the piece.

2) Sir Cosmo revealed that a note M Berri had slipped to him had come from Admiral LeCoq, who told us of the activities of one Count Coronini, a known associate of the Earl of Dovercourt.

The Earl, Sir Cosmo tells us, was most certainly involved in the plot of ‘53, but there was never any solid evidence against him. He has been out of favour at Court, but has been brooding about in Scotland these many years. His goal in that plot was to supplant Queen Victoria with a pretender, the Roman Catholic Duke of Modena.

Now the Earl's agent, Coronini, has been seen around the Continent arranging transport for a young man and a monkey from England to North Africa. Indeed.

This certainly improves the case against Dovercourt as the Mysterious Malefactor, though as in ‘53, he has been careful to avoid traceable personal involvement.

3) I told of my encounter with Mr Oliphant, and asked about his history and reliablity. I have been told that the reason he left the Foreign Office was because some years ago he had gotten mixed up in a zealous religious sect, with some Zionist apocalyptic agenda. He published some tracts which threatened the secrecy of some of the Office's activities.

He was let go with the public story that he had contracted "brain fever." Religion and brain fever are so similar, who would know the difference. Anyhow, while he is not exactly a reliable source, his journalism is somewhat useful to us, and I think it would be wise to stay on good terms with him if we can.

4) Miss Chigwidgeon and Wilhelmina have each received notes, found hidden among their personal effects. The notes are nearly identical, warning them of great personal danger and urging each of them, separately, to come to the duck pond at 11:30 tonight, bringing one trusted friend. The melodrama is very heavy. It's so obviously a trap, who could think either one would fall for such a thing?

Even so, we have tentatively agreed that each of them could go out as summoned, with others of us prepared nearby to intervene if necessary. Debate is still raging as to who the Trusted Friend should be for each.

This circumstance reminded us that the two paternal ghosts who so often help us were still trapped outside the protective barrier, and Miss Whitnell went to find Mr Templeton to ask him to let them through.

Now there is little to do but wait until the appointed hour for the Duck-Pond Rendevous approaches and we take our places.

I can't abide the idleness. I am going to go explore the garden with Mr Frazer and Turgenov.

(Later)

Well, we now have two men in custody, one being Mr Richard Hawkesworth, the other an unknown Italian manservant, and also the body of the late Count Coronini.

Well before the appointed hour, while Mr Frazer and I were conducting our patrol in the gardens, we received word that Mrs Cuthbert had had a vision showing her Mr O'Flaherty in some difficulty with at least two opponents near the haha, some third of a mile to the East, not far from the duck pond.

Edward had horses ready by the time we reached the stables, and Mr Frazer and I rode off, while Mr Salmalin accompanied us on foot.

Edward, Sir Cosmo, and Stuart drove off with the carriage to take the less direct but smoother road to the duck pond. The Mystics remained behind, preparing rituals to combat the magic they could sense being readied by the enemies.

By the time Mr Frazer and Salmalin and I arrived, we found the crisis concluded, Mr O'Flaherty and the dog Owen had the villains more-or-less in hand.

Mr O'Flaherty explained that he had come this way to do some reconnaissance and had seen two men approaching. He had concealed himself in the Haha to observe. One of the men rode a horse, and the other was afoot. The two of them were speaking Italian, which Mr O'Flaherty doesn't speak, but his Spanish gave him enough understanding to recognise that these were instigators of the plot to lure Miss Chigwidgeon and Miss Wilhelmina out here.

The more lordly man dismounted and drew a sword, then marked out a circle and began chanting.

Another man approached–this was Hawkesworth.

Mr O'Flaherty tricked the Italian manservant, and knocked him out out of sight of the others. Hawkesworth became suspicious, and drew a gun. Before Hawkesworth could shoot into the brush where Mr O'Flaherty was concealed, Owen ran up and bit him, allowing Mr O'Flaherty to overpower him and take the gun.

The Italian Mystic, meanwhile, continued his work, which seemed to result in great rolling clouds and thunder. Before he could go much further, Mr O'Flaherty struck him in the head with the butt of the gun.

According to Mr O'Flaherty, his eyes glowed and then he seemed to be afire from within. Then he collapsed and to all appearances he died.

Miss Whitnell reported, when we returned, that they had disrupted his spell, but they weren't entirely sure what it would have been.

Mr Hawkesworth and the Italian manservant have been secured in one of the attic rooms, and the Count's body is in our makeshift morgue in the cellars.

I for one am not nearly sharp enough to conduct an interrogation tonight, and Mrs Cuthbert is still not recovered from the remarkable strains of the past few days.

Tomorrow morning, if Mrs Cuthbert is up to it, we should be able to fit in a Seance before leaving for the Chapel.

Friday, 13 January, 1871

We rose early, and many of our League convened to question the prisoners. Some of us concentrated on Mr Hawkesworth, while others (the Mystics) conducted the Seance to communicate with the late Count Coronini. The Italian manservant had not quite recovered from Mr O'Flaherty's blow, and so his interrogation was postponed.

We learned from Mr Hawkesworth mainly that he is completely unhinged. His natural father was Albert Collins, a stoker who died in the Letchworth disaster. Mr Hawkesworth has developed a severe mania which has him convinced that Sir Cosmo is completely evil.

He tells us that he came here with the very earnest intention of protecting Miss Chigwidgeon, of convincing her that Sir Cosmo is a dangerous mass murderer. He claimed that it was his idea to write the note to Miss Chigwidgeon, to bring her outside where he could tell her "the truth" about her Intended.

He did not, however, have any idea about the note to Miss Wilhelmina, whom he regards as another evil creature, the irredeemable offspring of the Moriarty crime family.

We asked him about his association with Count Coronini, and he told us about meeting the Count in London, that they had learned that they both wanted to bring Sir Cosmo to justice. It is obvious that the Count knew who he was and had come prepared to use his insanity against Sir Cosmo for his own purposes.

We tried a few more times to convince him that Sir Cosmo isn't evil, but the poor man is just too far off in his own world.

Meanwhile, the Seance to interrogate Count Coronini was taking interesting turns: The Count is was a dedicated Papist, which is why he has been working with the Earl of Dovercourt all these years, trying to put a Papist on the English throne. He was entirely unwilling to speak with Mrs Cuthbert at first, but Mrs Cuthbert apparently invoked a Saint, and the Count's ghost was cooperative thereafter (I wish that worked on Edward!).

Coronini explained that the whole plan has been to discredit Sir Cosmo and the League, thereby weakening the Crown's Intelligence Service. There were other plans for the future for other agents as well.

The plan for last night had been to lure Miss Chigwidgeon and Miss Wilhelmina out to where they would be found in some incriminating circumstance with the body of Richard Hawkesworth.

It seems very odd to me that this man who truly thinks himself a pious and righteous Catholic would be so ready to manipulate, murder, lie, and perform sorcery, all supposedly to further the dominance of his Church. Religion can be so inexplicable. Especially Papists.

Before we knew it, it was time to dress for the Wedding. I left Mr Frazer to himself, as he has shown himself perfectly equal to turning out in good form without my interference. I joined the other ladies as we put the finishing touches on our toilettes and queued up to let Tattvick help us with our hair.

Even Natesh was permitted to attend the ceremony and the subsequent festivities, dressed in one of Edward's coats. This should confuse anyone who might be thinking about Wilhelmina's identity.

We were all arrayed in our gowns-Emily and Wilhelmina looked like confections in their pink flounces, while the rest of us were relieved to be allowed to wear a dark wine red, much more suited to our ages.

Miss Whitnell looked quite ill-at-ease, no doubt worried about the propriety of a divorcee appearing as a bridal attendant. Once the ceremony began in earnest, though, she seemed perfectly focused on the words of the vicar and the Bride and Groom.

I am very grateful that nothing untoward happened during the ceremony. We all stood in our line beside the bride and groom. All of us were tired, many of us worried, and quite at our wits' end with the struggles and anxieties of the past week. Still, no one fainted, we didn't need to quash any objections, and no fighting broke out.

I was feeling slightly giddy, though. I don't know what possessed me, but I kept looking over to Mr Frazer and trying to catch his eye. Perhaps it's just fond remembrance of our own recent nuptials that made me so mischievous. He kept a sober mien, with scarcely a flicker. I did raise a slight blush when I winked, though. I can't imagine what came over me. My sisters never reported anything like this, so it's probably not due to my Condition.

After the ceremony, we all proceeded to Goxhill Manor, where the entire parish high and low had been invited to celebrate. I ate an unbelievable amount of cold chicken. I took vanishingly small sips of my champagne as the toasts went on.

After we'd all had our cake and the toasts had been drunk, the bride and groom departed to their new shared suite and all the rest of us traveled over to Lord Sidcup's manor, where he hosted continuisng festivities in the form of a tea and a dance.

The next flurry of excitement occurred during the fireworks. Edward, or perhaps Wilhelmina, had orchestrated a great display to coincide with these evening festivities, and we were fortunate that the storm of last night had subsided into high clouds. Unbeknownst to me, Wilhelmina had firing stations set up in several locations. None of us watching were any the wiser, but one of the stations did not fire as planned

Wilehlmina immediately noticed that none of the fireworks were coming forth from Goxhill Grange, where Humphrey was on duty. His immediate concern was for his friend's well being. Several of the League were at the stables with him (hiding out from the stimulation of the party, I suspect); They immediately prepared a carriage and set off: Sir Spencer, Miss Whitnell, Mr O'Flaherty, Emily, Natesh, and George.

Somehow, in their haste to look after Humphrey, not one of them remembered to tell the rest of us what was happening and where they were going.

I learned shortly that as they came up to the Grange, they saw an unfamiliar carriage in front of the house. Immediately a Thuggee leapt from the top of the box and attempted to flatten Mr O'Flaherty. The opposition must be getting low on Thuggees by now, because this one was not at all up to the standards we are accustomed to. He was disabled quite swiftly and so a part of the party raced into the house while Miss Whitnell prepared herself for a ritual outside.

Two more inferior thuggees later, most of our party was in the laboratory.

They found
1) Humphrey, tied to a chair
2) the unaccounted-for Hindu sorceress, preparing some ritual
3) a very old man, on a surgical table and hooked up to Sir Charles' equipment
4) a quack physician,

The Group made short work of all this. By the time Miss Whitnell came indoors, she found
1) Humphrey, untied and bewailing his inability to launch the fireworks as planned,
2) the Hindu woman, unconcious (having been struck by a falling shelf),
3) the unconscious old man, still lying there, having all his blood drained and replaced by some strange chemical solution,
4) the physician frantically trying to explain the importance of applying the battery to his patient once the solution exchange was complete,
5) Natesh, thoroughly addled after being struck by some kind of magic (according to Miss Whitnell, a misfired stunning spell).

Miss Whitnell realised at this point that none of the rest of us knew where they were, and she called out for one of the paternal ghosts, in the hopes that one might be near.
Fortunately, one was, since Inspector MacGregor had retired to his room after the ceremony, and had seen the carriage go tearing by on its way to the Grange; the Inspector had asked his father to investigate). After some amount of ghostly to-ing and fro-ing, Sir Charles, Sir Anthony, Mrs Cuthbert, and several of the rest of us came over to help out.

Now we had to endure some debate about the fate of the old man, now positively identified as the Earl of Dovercourt himself.

We began with the question of whether to apply the battery once the exchange was complete, thus making the Earl into an undead construct like Humphrey (only much less endearing).

Sir Charles took a look at the Earl's body and declared that he could not be successfully revived for more than one charge of the battery, because his minions had neglected to implant the necessary electrodes to properly recharge him.

So then the question was whether to revive him once, let him die, or think of something else very quickly.

Mrs Cuthbert declared willingness to attempt to heal him, if we could reverse the solution transfer and replace his blood. "We can't just let him die," she said, "even if he brought it on himself, and he does deserve it." I had mainly argued to just allow him to die of his own folly, but Mrs Cuthbert had taken the moral high ground, and she was the best able to assess the risks and the chance of success.

I took Natesh and left the room to let them work. I learned that the procedure had not been successful in reviving the Earl, but that some other entity had attempted to take over the body and attack Mrs Cuthbert. Well, that was quelled quickly, and the Earl was irretrievably dead. I think they did some ritual to keep him that way, for good measure.

Meanwhile, I was speaking to Natesh (I am still resistant to calling him "Albert," which name he has assumed in a parody of Edward). I was more than half convinced that he was feigning the erasure of memory in order to escape the consequences of his earlier actions. I could not detect any deception, however, and I must concede that the damage to his memory is real, though we do not yet know how permanent.

After securing the latest group of prisoners, we all made our weary way back to the Party at Lord Sidcup's, to mingle with the guests and act as though everything was perfectly normal. Fortunately, we were not obliged to disturb The Cowperthwaites in the process of sorting out the Earl.

Saturday, 14 January

I have never been so mortified.

Sir Cosmo has informed me that my services would not be needed for Edward for the next two months. Edward will be in the North working with Mr Balderstoke on a new bridge. I hope Mr Balderstoke is prepared for this.

Sir Cosmo mentioned, with a kindly look, that he thought I needed a break. I have really done my best to maintain my composure through all Edward and Wilhelmina's antics. Granted, I have had to shout far more than I ever have with any other children I have been employed to attend. But to have the Employer notice that I have failed to maintain decorum, well, it's not to be borne.

At least I haven't been dismissed. Sir Cosmo really seemed to think he had my best interests (and those of Edward) foremost in his mind. Could Mrs Cuthbert have told him about my Condition? Or Miss Whitnell——She isn't always very discreet. Or what if the Cooks have caught on and all the servants are talking of it and Graves told Sir Cosmo? How will I tolerate it?

Benton points out that at least I will have some time to work on my next paper if I wish. I haven't done any real work in months! I had better get some of my field work done on "Insect Species in the City of London" before I am forced to endure Confinement.

Mr Frazer and I are not the only ones scattering for the next while. All the guests are beginning to depart. Sir Cosmo and Lady Cowperthwaite are departing shortly for Edenfield Court. Mr Salmalin and the faithful Tattvick are traveling with them. Tattvick has accepted a postion as Lady Cowperthwaite's lady's maid, which will no doubt be much better than having some other upper servant try to learn how to get along with the League at close quarters.

Many of us are returning to London: Sir Spencer and Mrs Cuthbert, Mr Frazer and myself. Mrs Whitnell has decided to return to London with Miss Betty. They will reside as guests at #18, where they will continue their work with the Society. Emily has been assigned to be their guardian, as their work often takes them into the less safe areas of Town, and Mrs Whitnell is not very wary of her personal safety. This is convenient, as that means that Emily will be on hand to continue to coach us in our Defence practice.

Miss Whitnell is going out to her cottage in West Darlson for a time. No doubt the quiet will be refreshing after all the hullaballoo of recent weeks. She seems to have a great deal on her mind.

Inspector MacGregor has been granted an extended recuperative leave, while his broken jaw heals. He will be staying out here under the care of Sir Charles.

Sir Charles has agreed to allow me to assess Humphrey's development and make recommendations for his continued education and care. All the recent adventures have convinced him at last that he must make provision for Humphrey other than hiding him in a garrett.

Natesh has still not recovered, though he has improved somewhat. He is being taken to the offices of the Lord High Warlock to see what they can do for him. His disposition thereafter is yet to be decided.

My colleagues seem inclined to give Natesh a fresh start. I have my doubts. This child has been raised to the worst kind of lawlessness. His plagiarism of Edward could certainly be a ploy to keep us off our guard. Edward is so excited at the prospect of having a brother that he is not thinking objectively. Even Wilhelmina's usual wariness and cynicism is suppressed.

I keep having to remind everyone that it was Natesh who murdered Mr Jokking, not a week ago. Everyone is quick to point out that he's been under evil influences. How true! But that sort of moral damage will not be cured overnight. At least for now George and Salmalin are watching him, and they have the best chance of detecting any trickery. And while my faith in the L H W's offices has been shaken by their failure to help Mr Wroth's footman, I still think they are best equipped to sort out Natesh's memory.

Once I am back in London, I will have to look in on Natesh, and try to determine what is really going on in his mind. I have a certain amount of experience with lawless feral genius children.

Which reminds me that I must quickly assemble some lesson plans for Edward, and also for George, while they are at work in Scotland. I don't think Mr Balderstoke will be able to press them to do any lessons, so I will have to count on their own curiosity and interest in the topics offered. I just hope they don't drive the man around the bend. Or get killed in some plot which seemed like such a good idea at the time.

Proceed to My dear Miss Chigwidgeon

Return to Miss Sinclair's Diary Index

Return to Main Menu

Contents this page copyright 2004 by Ieva Ohaks. All Rights Reserved.