The Medium

Chapter 2

"I don't think your maid will last long," Jacob said as the drawing room door closed on Celia guiding a trembling Bella down the hall.

I waited until the door was completely shut and Bella's terrified mutterings had faded before I spoke. "I hope she's already prepared supper." It sounded uncaring but I'd been in this situation before and it was very trying. As our only maid, Bella worked long, hard hours. I appreciated that enough to know I didn't want to take on her chores. "Good maids are difficult to find, particularly ones not afraid of the supernatural." Or ones we could afford.

"Have you tried the North London School for Domestic Service in Clerkenwell?" He returned the picture frame to the mantelpiece and remained standing. "They train suitable orphans in all aspects of domestic service and help them find employment by the age of sixteen or so. We’ve hired many of our servants from there."

"We?"

"Ghosts." I must have had an odd look on my face because he snorted softly which I think was meant to be a laugh. "Joke," he said without even a twitch of his lips. "I meant my family. The one I had before I died."

"Oh." I swallowed. So he came from a family wealthy enough to afford servants, plural. I wanted to ask more about his life but it didn't seem like the right time. It also wasn't the right time to ask about his death, although I'm not sure there ever is an appropriate time to enquire about that. It feels a little like prying into one's private affairs.

Besides, a far more pressing question was why was he standing in my drawing room looking every bit the gentleman of the house as he rested his elbow on the mantelpiece. Perhaps it was the casual attire that made him look like he belonged precisely there as if this really was his home. Or perhaps it was the strength of his presence. I think I would have known where he was at all times even with my eyes closed. A remarkable feat for a spirit. "What did you mean by assigned to me? Assigned by whom and for what purpose?"

"Assigned by the Administrators—."

"The Administrators?"

"The officers who control the Waiting Area and the gateway to the Otherworld's sections. They ensure each spirit crosses to their correctly assigned section, as well as keeping the Waiting Area orderly." It all sounded terribly efficient, more so than our own government's departments, notorious for their crippling rules and mountains of paperwork. "Haven't you ever asked the ghosts you've summoned about their experiences there?"

"Of course," I said, reaching for the teapot on the table beside me. "All the time." I poured tea into a cup. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You haven't, have you?"

I stared into the teacup and sighed. "Not really. I'm not sure I want to find out too much. I mean, I know about the Waiting Area and how ghosts need to release all negative emotions associated with this world in order to cross over but...I don't want to know anything more."

"You mean before your time."

I nodded. Hopefully I had many years to wait.

I glanced at Jacob over the rim of my cup and caught him watching me with a steely intensity that made my skin tingle. I blushed and sipped then risked another look. This time his attention seemed to be diverted by the tea service. I would have offered him a cup but there was no point since he didn't require sustenance. Perhaps I should have offered out of politeness anyway. I wasn't entirely sure of the etiquette for when ghosts came calling.

He really was undeniably handsome though. The more I looked at him, the more I liked his features. None were remarkable on their own—except for the vivid blue of his eyes—but together they made his face extraordinary. What a shame he was dead. Even more so because he'd come from a wealthy family—Celia would be particularly disappointed by the waste. The number of eligible gentlemen we knew could be counted on a butcher's hand—five less a few missing digits and fingertips. Perhaps it wasn't a complete loss however. Jacob might have a living relative or friend he wanted us to contact while he was here. Preferably one of Celia's age or a little older.