A Curious Volume of Forgotten Lore: PART II

*
PART II

Eavesdropping in the nursery 

The morning after the Lords arrived felt like my whole world had changed. I was no longer just my parent's daughter I was now the girl who at some point would be officially engaged to one of the wealthiest boys in America. Needless to say, I slept uneasy that night with that future in floating around in my sleepless mind. 

As I slipped out of bed just as the rising sun snuck through the center slit of my heavy bedroom drapes, I made my way to my 4-year-old brother Nikolas' nursery hoping to have a moment with him before his nanny came in. 

Moments like those, just him and I in the early mornings, were frequent. They were quiet, and soft. Nikky was the sweetest child. There was something instinctive in him, I think, that made him aware of others' pain or anxiety. At least with me he knew how and when to cuddle my worries away. 

When I got to Nikk'y nursey door, I wasn't the only person who had the same idea. 

My aunt Marissa was inside the nursery. Her son, my baby cousin Roman, had been sharing the room with Nik overnight while he and Aunt Marissa's stay. I peeked through the opened door and saw my aunt sitting on the floor in a beautiful olive dress. She sat on the floor allowing the dress' skirt to overtake the room's floor like a giant lily pad in a pond and she flower blooming in the center.

She was cradling her little boy in her arms. Nikky was already out of his crib too and walking along the edge of my Aunt's dress giggling and playing a game only he knew the rules to.

As I watched the sweet morning moments with Aunt Marrissa and the boys, I heard a bedroom door open down the hall. The room was Jacob Lord's guest room. Instinctually, I thought to hide but he spotted me. Our eyes met and he slowly made his way to me. I moved away from the nursery door and back down the hall towards my room a bit but turned when I heard him speak.

"Well, young lady, good morning to you." Jacob said in a low voice. 

I turned and did a shy curtsy and mouthed good morning not realizing my voice didn't come out. Jacob's eyes narrowed, my meekness would have been like blood in the water to shark, but from a child Jacob only saw it as a way in. He knew I was intimidated, who wouldn't be? He towered over me. His voice was strong and the sound of it hung in the air like a foghorn in the dark. 

"No need to be so nervous." he said genuinely. "I was hoping I would bump into your aunt. Is she in there?" 

I nodded. 

"Thank you." He said with a smile. 

I turned to go back into my room to dress for the day, but Jacob once again stopped me in my tracks. 

"You know one day we'll be family. Isn't that something? You'll have such a wonderful life in Welshport. You must be incredibly excited." 

"Welshport?" I asked, it was probably the first time I heard the name of the town they were from. We had always just said Maine, or America. "Is that your city?"

"City?!" He laughed. "It's nowhere near a city. Its a small village with hopes to someday being considered a town. But it's ours. It home. It's where we made ourselves. By the time you get there hopefully it'll be a bit larger. You'll see." He added

I smiled and went back towards my room as he turned to go into the nursey. But I didn't stay put. Something told me to go listen to what he my Aunt Marissa were going to discuss. It wasn't in my nature to be so curious about grown up conversations. Little did I know these growing instincts to know everything that was happening all around me was a tact I would need in the future to survive. 

I would learn that to know one's enemy inside and out would be the only weapon I would ever need. This new world I was stepping into strangely set those instincts on fire. I quickly made my way back my bedroom door and over to the nursey and hid just outside again.

Inside, Marissa was not exactly pleased to be back in Jacob's private audience. 

She held her baby close as my brother Nik sat up next to a giant doll house where he chose a soft bear stuffed into a tiny doorway to play with. Jacob squatted down so that he and Marissa were at eye level.

"What is it?" Marissa asked, thinking he'd come in with some kind of news.

"Is there something I need to know about him?" He asked, reaching for Roman's little warm head. 

Marissa slightly pulled Roman away and narrowed her eyes. "What?" She replied in a whisper.

"The boy -- I'm not a doctor, Marissa, but I can count backwards a few months back to this past summer. When we were together." 

Marissa scoffed and got up off the floor to take Roman as far away from Jacob as she could. "No, absolutely not." She said knowing quickly what he was implying. 

"He's not mine then?" He replied, his tone painted with tones of relief. 

She shook her head. 

"Then who's is he?" Jacob wondered. "Were you with someone else?!?"

"Jacob, just go, the other's are downstairs already. The driver is taking you all on an excursion to town to see Queen Anne's Square. You'll enjoy it." Aunt Marissa said, hoping to get him out of her hair. 

She then moved towards Nik, to place him back in his own crib, but Jacob intercepted and grabbed her arm. His tight grip pulled her back a step. She gasped as he pulled her close 

"Who is the father?" He whispered forcefully.

"Jacob let go." 

"Damn it, tell me. If not me then who? How could you have been with another man when we -- we -- I thought we had something." he said, the icy tone quickly sounding like a broken-hearted schoolboy.

"What are you talking about? Jacob, let go of me." She demanded, his arm tightened. 

"Marissa..." He began before she cut him off. 

"We had a night -- one. But you weren't the one I wanted. And to be honest, I wasn't who you wanted. Your mind has always been on other conquests. We were two ships passing in the night, Jacob, so rest assured, my son is not yours: he's mine. Just mine."

My heart was pounding as I watched, worried, and hoped nothing worse would happen in that room as my little brother walked over to our aunt and began to cry watching very tense conversation.

Jacob looked down at my brother. I could only see half of Jacob's face. It was cold, almost angry that she'd dilute their night together that summer to something so frivolous or out of the ordinary. My aunt, by all measures, was a free spirit. She was never the type of woman to conform to any kind of idea of what a woman should be. She was in control of her own destiny at all times even when the whispers and stares became heavy and distracting. 

Jacob grabbed my brother who yelped like a frightened puppy. 

My aunt gasped and took Nik from him. 

"Get out." She growled.

The coldness from Jacob's face melted. "I was only going to put him in his crib." He said, his voice suddenly softened. I sensed truth, but still he was scary. Even Marissa, though stoic as usual, had a trembled in her hand. 

"Just leave, they're waiting downstairs." She added.

"I'll find out one way or another if he's mine, you know? These are not the type of secrets people keep forever." He added.

"I already told you, he's not yours. If he was, I would have told you. I wouldn't have a problem telling you the truth." She said.

He stared at her, and for a split second he thought to counter her -- but then it dawned on him. She would have told him. Being the child of Jacob Lord, and a boy, would have set Roman for life. It would have made so much sense for her to legitimize him for a myriad of social and economic reasons no matter how modern minded my aunt was, she knew the world around her and how cruel it would be to Roman living the life of a bastard. 

Jacob patted my little brother on the head and had one more look at Roman who dozed off to dream. I quickly rushed back to my room to dress and not be seen. Jacob made his way down the main staircase and my aunt placed Nikky back into his crib.

Her mind however, drifted back to the summer in question. Back to then night she conceived little Roman, and with who.

*CAPE COD, SUMMER 1888*

Cape Cod 

Roman was conceived four nights before she and Jacob spent the nights together. She was on the beach, alone, when she saw a familiar face, a face she had also met that night at the grand ball they all attended at the home of a wealthy New England socialite. The man was tall, incredibly beautiful with tan skin and a smile that lit up hers when their eyes locked. He couldn't have been more different than Jacob. Kind. Caring. He joked with her as they walked along the sand in the moonlight. She found him funny, a trait that was sexier than anything she could think of. He was also very polite, another trait she kept high on her list. He was a wealthy man's personal valet who, the night he met Marissa, had given him the odd night off.

They spent hours together that night, talking laughing and then making love in his humble room his employer rented for him to stay in just outside the beach. As their bodies connected, skin to skin, lips to lips she remembered how the ocean waves outside the open window seemed in cadence with them. 

It would only be on the fourth night when she encountered Jacob again at another summer social that she would learn the man she met on the beach was Jacob's valet. Jacob was crass and arrogant around all of the other rich snobs. He walked around the party as if he were the most important guest, he certainly was one of the wealthiest. 

When he met Marissa, his eyes were locked on her, but not only because of her beauty but it seemed like she was some foreign land he could concur. As hard as she tried that night to avoid him, she couldn't and agreed to sharing a drink or two. Despite her best intentions to leave and find the handsome man she had met four nights before.

Later, when the man and Marissa realized who they had in common, their lips were sealed. He knew Jacob had eyes on a particular brunette that he could not stop talking about, but the man did not immediately know it was Marissa. She knew too that if she revealed her sudden attraction to Jacob's valet it would ruin the man's placement and employment. Jacob was clearly territorial and jealous. 

To throw Jacob off any idea of the connection, she agreed again to have dinner with the wealthy heir.

After dinner Jacob did all he could to persuade her to bed. She resisted. She tried to do evade his ever advance but Jacob was relentless. He told her of his many accomplishments, his future endeavors, his hopes and dreams and how she'd fit right in to those ideas she should give herself to him. Everything was about him and he knew he could have anything in the world. He told her he wanted HER. No one, he warned, could stop him from achieving what he wanted. No one.

She told him no anyway, she tried to make it clear, but that night in her hotel room, Jacob took what he wanted and made it all seem like Marissa wanted it too. 

She was confused. Broken. Unsure of what had happened and if she had allowed it to happen. Jacob kissed her goodbye truly believing the two of them had shared a wonderful, beautiful moment not realizing he had taken a part of her soul with him. 

His arrogance and callousness, his position of wealth and privilege shielded him from all accountability that night. 

The web was tangled and when Marissa learned she was pregnant with the valet's child, she quickly left America to be with her sister in London sure that she'd never to see either of them again. She could never put the man in Jacob's jealous gaze. It would be too dangerous for them all. She knew then she and Roman's father could never be together because of Jacob's dark side. 

When the Lords arrived at our home in London, Jacob was gleeful when he realized who I was related to. Perhaps, he hoped he and Aunt Marissa would rekindle the warped one-sided romance from that summer past.

The man, however, moved on with his life. He eventually suffered a car accident while a drunk Jacob pulled the steering wheel and eventually left the job. 

Roman's father would find love again; Aunt Marissa would recall hearing. With a woman he had loved for years -- her name was Celeste DeViana. The valet, Roman's father... was Filipe Braga. 

**

The veiled woman meets Kadir 

Queen Anne's Square was a small four block area of London's Bloomsbury district with a reputation of having some of the most interesting and unique shops and cafes in London. I loved it there! My parents would often take me, even before Nikky was born, on strolls in the spring. 

It was a highly visible area for locals like my family. For random visitors, this area was usually a surprise walk-and-find as tourists usually stuck to the regular sights of London. 

As I would eventually learn, in one such small lower-level shop, a woman dressed in dark layers and a scarf over hear hair walked into a small parlor. There was a man sitting there. He was tall with skin the color of mocha and eyes like warm chestnuts. This was his home and shop; the woman was his guest had come from far away with a very particular and strange request of him -- and a hefty payment should he provide it.

The woman sat across from the man as he placed a small brown burlap pouch with a red string tied around it down on a table between them.

"You've been very patient." He told her as she took the pouch from him. "But the proof needs to be given beforehand." 

"I appreciate what you're doing." She said as she removed a local newspaper from inside of her shawl and placed it on the table next to the pouch. "Turn it over." She said. 

The man arched a brow and did so only to find a small headline in a section that reported on London's social circles with a photo of Albert Lord. The small article mentioned the arrival of the American Publishing Giant on a visit to London on family affairs but left out the true reason: his grandson's introduction to his betrothed. 

"This does not mention the boy. You said the boy was the bride of these two families." The man said.

The woman, dressed in scarves and veils nodded. "But it's true none the less."

The man, who was called Kadir, was a collector of rare and precious items from around the world. His shop was called a Spirt Shoppe and many of the items were connected to supposed powerful and healing entities. Books, potions, charms, statues, crystals -- all of it creating a lucrative practice for those searching for answers from what ailed them. 

Kadir sighed and gestured for the woman to take the pouch. 

She carefully pulled the string opening the pouch and removed an Egyptian scarab in pure solid gold. It was the size of a large egg, shiny and heavy. She looked the scarab over -- it dazzled her. She couldn't believe she actually had it in her hand.

"Cleopatra's coleopteran. Its... its a wonder!" She said, her eyes a glowing gray as she stared down at the solid gold ancient scarab beetle though her shrouds. 

"My contact at the museum must took great pains to switch this with a fake for you." Kadir replied. "Your payment will need to be increased to keep him silent."

She frowned but understood, then removed more money, clearly expecting him to ask for more and placed the extra payment on the table.

Then she grabbed the pouch. He grabbed her hand.  

"You must be careful on your next steps; there are always dangers with the power of the coleopteran." Kadir warned.

"I'm unafraid of power, I welcome it." she said. "My intensions are for this scarab to place it's hold on everything that has harmed the world I am from." 

"Careful what you wish for. You and the partner have much to learn of the great Egyptian scrolls. But no one can stop the Nile once it's cut through the earth. Be at your own caution." he warned again, this time hinting the woman was not working alone.

"We know what we do." she confirmed.

"Then it is yours." Kadir said. 

She reached back into her veils to remove payment for Kadir's work, separate from the payment she gave for his contact. But Kadir shook his head. 

"No." 

"But what about our agreement?" she wondered. 

"No." he repeated. "My Payment will come in time one day -- in another way. I wash my hands of this."

The woman took a breath and stood up. Her rage had cooled over the years towards her targets but had never lost her razor-sharp reasoning. She was determined now more than ever that her intensions were met with the full fury of all that came from the darkest recesses of her control.

She was a storm in human form. A wildfire burning, raging, to seek the retribution for what she lost. The veiled woman could not hold off for a karmic hope to finally install itself as judge...no she had to put her hopes, her powers, her urgers into this solid gold Egyptian relic with it's cold history of long-lasting pain.

 The mysterious veiled woman then walked over to another circle table where Kadir had placed a single candle in the center. The red tablecloth had distinct markings: the eye of Ra. Cleopatra's killer Asp slithering around a golden triangle. And the eye of Horus watching over everything.

The woman placed the scarab beetle also known as the golden coleopteran that was said to be once in the presence of Cleopatria herself, in the center of the table.

The woman lifted her arms up, her veils began to shift as if a wind had blow through them. Her hair, a light shade of blond graying at her temples swayed. The candle lit on its own flickering in the mysterious winds. 

Kadir's eyes widened witnessing this, her powers on display were too strange and too real for him. He knew a sorceress when he saw one...he quickly left the room.

The coleopteran beetle, golden and bright began to sparkle and shine it's gloriousness. The woman's eyes became entranced, gold like the beetle itself. Then voice began to seep through her body like a deep cold current of the sea in the Latin tongue.

"Qui hoc tenet — quem ego decerno — a luce in tenebras transibit. Patiatur sicut ipse alios pati fecit. In aeternum. In aeternum."

The glass fixtures, the windows, the photos on the walls began to shake and rattle. The doors shook. The candle flickered again, the floorboards lifted and creaked, the plants swayed. Then the flickering candle flame began to burn brighter and brighter, hotter and hotter. The wax melted into a large white puddle. The woman's face took on the light, and she repeated her curse on the golden scarab two more times.

Her eyes closed and then, the candle flickered off in a puff of smoke....

**THE YEAR 30 B.C.; ALEXANDRIA, EQYPT**

Cleopatra and the golden scarab 

.....A fire in a torch burned out in a young woman's hands. Its smoke filled the air floating in puffs of black smoke all around her wide face and high cheekbones.

She rushed down the small marble corridor, dark and damp. There were more torches on the solid stone walls still burning with oils lighting her way deeper into an even darker chamber that was only brightened by large bronze cauldrons burning brightly around the perimeter. She relit her torch by dipping it into one of the cauldrons, its' fresh fire illuminated her beautiful face. 

Her dark wig of braids had small pearls on the end of each braid, her blue painted eyes darted back and forth searching for the queen.

"Over here!" A voice of another woman called.

The young woman in the torch light dashed towards the voice and saw a third woman, queen's handmaids, reaching.

"Did you find it?" The second woman asked, her hair also a raven black wig of braids dripping in pearls.

The young woman nodded and handed her a satchel from around her waist.

The second woman quickly ushered it into a third chamber that was equally as dark, equally dim. Three women were there facing an alter to the Goddess Isis surrounded by limestone walls etched with carvings in hieroglyphics. 

The woman in the center had up her hands with an offering, the solid gold ring around her head shaped like a serpent with it's fanged mouth open just above her forehead sparkled in the fire's light. The crowned woman turned when the second woman entered the room in haste. 

"Is it here?" She said in a low brittle voice, her eye make-up stained from crying.

The second woman nodded, as the younger woman cowered at the door in the presence of the Great Queen Cleopatra VII.

"Bring me the scarab." 

Cleopatra's hair was long and thick black. Her face heart-shaped with a strong nose birthed to her by her Greek origin. Her skin was a deep rich bronze like the final moments of a setting sun over Alexandria and her eyes were a warm chestnut almond shaped above two full lips. Her soft hands grabbed the satchel and tore the heavy scarab out. She lifted it up in the air triumphantly as and took a deep breath lowering it at the feet of the statue of Isis.

"This is the symbol of my whole being, my body. My soul. I give it to you, Isis. For all time. Let no man ever break this covenant of ours, for if they try may their lives be short and their descendants feel the wrath of the world at their necks. Like the hungry asps we brought here let their fangs sink into the flesh and take the life force from them. For I am not a woman for their own gain by my own woman to live as I was crowned to live. In the body of Isis."

The woman then all fell to their knees and began to chant as noise from a small square window off to the side seeped in. The younger woman went over and looked out and gasped.

"They approach?" Cleopatra asked, her forehead down on the floor as she crouched with her arms extended with the golden Scarab on the ground facing up to the statue of Isis.

"They do." the young woman said softly.

"Amonsei, come here..." Cleopatra called to her by name.

Amonsei, the young maid, walked over and fell to her knees and bowed to Cleopatra who got up and walked passed her. The white sheer cloth of the queen's dress slithering over Amonesi's hands. Amonsei grabbed the train and kissed it. 

Cleopatra looked out of the window and saw Octavian's army approaching closer and closer to lavish Mausoleum she had locked herself and her maids in.

"Tonight, I die. I leave this world and live for the next." 

All four of the maids all stood up and began cry as Cleopatra approached them and wiped their tears one by one. 

"It is my destiny." She replied in her raspy voice. "Take this," She added bringing up the scarab and handing it back to Amonsei "bring it to my children where they hide and tell them it has been blessed by Isis; their mother. Give it to them and let them know it is the symbol of power that they now possesses for themselves and shall it be taken from them and this land -- Egypt-- let them know those who take it for themselves will fall into the pits of vipers and their mind lost to wolves." 

"Yes, my queen." Amonsei said as she quickly replaced the now blessed scarab into the satchel and escaped the Mausoleum in secret passages hidden away from Octavian's army.

Then, Cleopatra blew out the burning incense as if she were extinguishing her own life -- in a puff of smoke awaiting the asps that would take her to another world.  

**

The Golden Scarab

Back in London, the woman moved her finger-less lace gloved hands over the hard surface of the stolen scarab with a millennia's worth of cursed history and placed it on her chest. Now the eyes of Cleopatra's golden coleopteran, the scarab, were set on one of the Lords. 

**

The Jordan sisters 

At home, my aunt Marissa settled her little boy Roman up for the day in her adorable little sailor's set. The white fabric looked crisp and clean and contrasted beautifully with the baby's mocha skin as he played with the blue trimmed sailor's collar. 

My mother walked in dressed for the day. She had her hair tied up and under a small hat. 

"We're off soon." Mother said, as she buttoned the sides of her leather gloves.

Aunt Marissa turned and nodded her head but said nothing. She was never one to stay quiet for long.

"What?" My mother asked her sister. "What is it?" 

"Nothing." 

"Marissa? What's the matter?" 

Aunt Marissa put Roman back down in the playpen that had several toys strewn about. She turned back and grabbed my mother's gloved hands. 

"This -- all of this with the Lords -- its a mistake. We can't allow Evie to marry into that family." Aunt Marissa said.

"What are you talking about? Of course we can. We've all talked about this. Its the best thing for her future. I wouldn't let her go to just any family! Augusta assures me the Lords are what they say they are. Where is this coming from?" My mother wondered. 

Marissa turned away, almost embarrassed to continue. "Marissa? Tell me." 

"Jacob. He's... he's not who you think he is. I've know him before." Marissa confessed.

My mother took a breath. She knew what that meant but against her better judgments, she pressed.

"Exactly how have you known him before?" 

"Last summer. When I was at The Cape. We met. Things became complicated, to say the least, and well..."

"Stop." My mother said. "Why didn't you tell me he was Roman's father?" 

Marissa turned back "Because he's not."

"Then I don't understand."

"Jacob is cruel and cold, I've seen it with my own eyes. I was only with him once and it was really to protect Roman's father, the man I truly love. Jacob's a jealous person. There's nothing he won't do to get what he wants. That can be dangerous in a world where money and power rule. Think about Sebastian's place within that family and how it may play against Jacob at some point."

My mother felt as if she had not taken a single breath the entire time they were talking. She exhaled and went over to the playpen and watched little Roman crawl around with a toy bear. "It's too late." She said.

"It's not, we can say you and Richard had second thoughts."

"No." My mother replied. "We can't do that. It would ruin Evie's prospects for the future. No other family would trust that we would be serious any other engagement. We have too much invested. We have to go through with it." 

"Is this about debt? I can help figure that out! We don't have to use Evie as collateral." my aunt said.

My mother turned to my aunt, her face showing a depth of hurt by her own sister thinking they'd only use me as a trade, it was true we had money issues but my parents truly believed in all of the other opportunities I'd gain being a Lord. 

"Aurora -- I didn't mean that."

"Enough, Marissa. That's enough." My mother replied. "They won't be married for at least another 10 years. It'll give us time to hopefully rebuild our family's fortune, we'll have better sway over what happens then, as for now, the down payment the Lords have given us for agreeing to join families will sustain us. Now, I have to go."

Marissa couldn't, now or ever again, voice her opinion on my betrothal. She too was helped by the Lords funds. It had to be done. 

Before she left the nursery, my mother turned and looked at her sister. There was worry all over her face but a worry that had to be pushed down forever. 

Then it slipped out "Who's Roman's father?" 

"Aurora, I -- "

"Who is it?" 

A pregnant pause then Aunt Marissa revealed "His name is Filipe." 

"Is he a married man?" My mother asked, assuming that was why he was kept so secret. 

"No, not exactly. He and the woman he loves had been apart for a while up until last year. They've since reunited." 

"Does he know?"

Marissa shook her head no. "He's also Jacob's former valet." 

My mother said nothing more but the worry on her face quickly turned to disappointment in her baby sister. "Say nothing about this."

Marissa nodded. 

"We'll be at the square for a good amount of time, while we are there, I want you to leave. Go back to your own flat. Just -- go. It's for the best." My mother said, then she left.

Aunt Marissa stood in the nursery and felt the heaviness of her affair fall on her like an anchor plunging deep into the sea. Her mistakes were now coming back to haunt her and the shame of it all strangled her hopes of ever getting Aurora's confidence again.

**

Welcome to the Spirit Shoppe 

Albert, Rebecca, Jacob. Sebastian, Augusta and I were led to The Queen's Square by my parents in a casual short walk down a few blocks from our family home in London's Holland Park.

The square was a bustling shopping all hoping to find their next treasure in any shop along the cobble stone paths. Our group chatted happily along as I skipped over cracks in the sidewalk holding my mother's hand. The stormy sky shifted into something that looked like a kaleidoscope of grays and blues swirling overhead. I looked up and the sky mirrored my own shade of irises. I blinked as the light shifted again and mother squeezed hand.

"Come." She said to me; her other hand holding on to Sebastian's. 

Sebastian and I walked to nearby candy shop as the other's continued their stroll. The shop seemed like it was filled with endless glass jars topped to the brim with every imaginable sweet two 11-year-olds could dream up. Chocolates and peppermints, butterscotches and anything our little hands could grab.

As we picked out our favorites, I glanced out of the candy shop window and made eye contact with Jacob as I watched the other's walked by. I turned away to the other side and Sebastian held out a red lollipop to me. A blushed almost the same color and took it.

"Raspberry." he said softly.

"Thank you, Sebastian." I replied.

"And where exactly are we off too?" Rebecca asked outside, as she pulled her black umbrella closed.

"Well anywhere you'd like," Richard replied. "the square has just about any kind of shop. From gifts to clothes, to ---" 

"That!" Augusta interrupted.

They all turned to see what she was pointing at. An open door right in front of them to a shop with a sign that read SPIRIT SHOPPE. 

"Oh, those this is a silly one. They sell love potions and magic books, tarot cards and all the kinds of things to take your money and give nothing in return." Aurora said.

"A den of charlatans." Jacob added.

"Come in and see for yourself!" A woman's voice said from inside the shop.

They all turned to the open door. It was shadowed by the dimness from inside. She walked forward, her dark gray skit shifted over the ground and she stepped into the light at the door step. She wore a veil over her face, no one could see her featured. It was gray to match her dress, long sleeved that wrapped with a string that went around her middle finger on each hand.

Rebecca gasped at the woman's surprising appearance, shocked with her shrouded face. 

"What is it you sell?" Albert asked.

"Dreams. Wishes. Hope. Love." The woman replied, her accent recognizably American.

"We have those." Jacob replied as he happily went into the shop.

The woman stepped aside allowing him in as the remaining members of the group slowly and somewhat reluctantly followed. 

As the group entered inside the dimly candle lit shop, the noticed the wood walls painted a dark green with several apothecary cabinets around the perimeter of the front room. In the enter several tables of candles, books, crystals and trinkets to buy. All to ward off malevolent spirits, the evil eye or to bring good luck and fortune. 

Jacob picked up a book and blew off some dust from the cover. "THE WAY TO FIND YOUR GOLDEN GOOSE" the title read.

The woman in her grim veils and gloved hands snatched it from his hand. "I doubt you need that, good sir."

"What does that mean?" He wondered.

"Oh, by the looks of you, you've got all the golden geese in the sky. You need something else." She said in a hushed tone. "Something special." 

"Jacob..." Rebecca said from one of the candle tables, her voice sounding like a warning.

"Go on now, what have you got for me?" Jacob asked.

"Jacob!" Rebecca said, this time louder.

"Becca, let him see what she has for him." Albert replied annoyed his wife was being so stingy with her fun. 

The woman, still shrouded in her veils clapped three times startling the room of visitors who all turned towards her. She walked back to a desk that was covered in potted gardenias that filled the air with their fresh floral scent. She opened a drawer, and removed a lily white box with a blood box tied with a blood red ribbon.

"This --- is for you." She said.

Augusta stepped closer to get a better look. Her curious, nosey nature took over, and she craned her neck in hopes to be the first to see whatever was in the box, but the woman would not open it -- it was for Jacob to open.

"What is it?" Rebecca could be heard from the front of the store still sorting through various candles.

Jacob approached, as he got closer, he could see the shape of her face, a slim outline under the veils. Her eyes, he could finally see were wide set, dark, but he could tell of the color blue. Pale, she might of been, but he could not make out the exact structure of her face. It was odd; however, he felt a sense of relief knowing there was someone actually under the veils and not some monstrous deformed creature waiting to bite off his hand.

Jacob reached for the box pulled the red ribbon. Inside was the golden scarab of Cleopatra. It sparkled in the dim light of the shop catching any glimmer of orange candlelight it could. Augusta, gasped at it's beauty.

"Queen Cleopatra's coleopteran. Straight from the desert sands of Alexandria to your hand. Buried over millennia and hidden from grave robbers only to finally find it's place here among my treasures." The woman explained.

"What's it for?" my father Richard wondered.

"He will know what to do with it." She replied as she looked over at Richard. She could sense his own desperate need for a safety net. He too needed hope, something she could give him in a good luck charm but not the scarab. This was for Jacob, and Jacob alone.

"Do you have another?" Augusta asked greedily. "I can pay too."

"You can have this one!" Jacob said handing her the box.

"NO!" The woman in veils shouted. "Don't you understand. The universe has sent you here to me. I have sensed the need to give this to someone special, and that someone is you. There is no way around this Jacob Lord." 

The room suddenly fell silent, and every eye was on the mysterious shop keeper.

Rebecca even stepped closer with a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

"How did you know my last name?" Jacob wondered as they all did.

"We should go." my mother Aurora said.

"Yes." Augusta replied quickly feeling her skin crawl.

"The universe tells me everything. It's nothing to fear, none of you should fear how the universe speaks to souls like me. It's the way to connect to realms. Nothing is silent. Not the trees, the grass, not the seas -- not the dead. Go, take the coleopteran beetle. It's for you and your future."

"Take it? You don't want money?" Jacob asked.

The woman did not reply. She only shook her head and encouraged him again to take the box with Cleopatra's treasure.

Jacob snapped the box closed and turned back towards the door. "Let's go." He whispered to his father as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

"One last thing, but this is for the lady -- the lady Rebecca." The woman said, again chilling the group as to how she knew their names.

She retrieved a small deck of cards in an onyx box and handed it to Rebecca. Tarot Cards.

"Find the one that reads these and let them give you guidance." The woman said. "It'll free your mind of worry to know what comes." 

"Let's go Becca." Albert ordered.

Rebecca kept silent and slipped the onyx box of tarot cards into her purse and the group, startled and shaken but the odd woman in gray veils, quickly left the shop. The woman, now alone, stood there in all her layers of gray and shadows knowing she'd just turned the key and opened the door to a very dark world. And she did it with a smile no one could see.

Outside they all peek into the red box as they walk along the cobble stone-street. It was an exquisite piece of history sitting in Jacob's hands. He didn't quite no what to do with it, but the general consensus was for Jacob to have it appraised and keep it as a part of the Lord's art collection.

"Art collection? That's not on my watch. Here." Jacob said as he handed it to his mother who didn't grab the box. 

"Albert, would you take it? I have nowhere to put it." She said.

Albert took the box, opened it one more time and ran his hands over the golden amulet. His eyes lit up, it was truly a treasure that he'd keep for himself ---- along with it's treacherous curse.

***

Bess’s book 

Back at home I sat and played with my little brother Nikolas. He was so happy to see me (and the candy I brought him) after our outing at Queen Anne's Square. His nanny, a happy fat neighbor of ours named Elizabeth, was still there at our house as the grown-ups were in the study catching up after dinner. Elizabeth, or Bess as we called her, sat stoically in the nursery with Niky and me reading from an art book that she always carried around with her. She encouraged my own love of art. 

I stood up from the nursery's plush carpet and stood next to Bess just as Sebastian walked in.  

"Is there anything in there about a golden bug?" I asked.

Sebastian giggled. "A scare-cub." He replied incorrectly.

Bess looked up from her book totally confused. "A bug?! Whatever do you mean?"

"She's asking about an Egyptian scare-cub. My grandfather got it from the Spirit Shoppe at the Square." Sebastian explained as he knelt down to play with Niky and a red ball.

"A scare-cub? My boy there's no such -- OH! Scare-cub! You mean an Egyptian Scarab!" Bess said with a big belly laugh. "There is actually something here on Egyptian artifacts... lets see..." 

Bess licked her chubby fingers and flicked through the pages of her art book that she'd read over 50 times. She knew it front to back and the ware and tare of it's covers was proof of it. 

"THERE!" She exclaimed. "Is this what you're talking about?" She asked.

"That's it!!" I replied with glee. "Well not exactly the same but Mr. Lord got something just like that, look Sebastian."

Sebastian barley glanced and nodded; he was too busy with Niky and the red ball.

"Mr. Lord bought this at the shoppe, did he?" Bess wondered. "That's something odd, isn't it, to buy such a rare piece of history." 

"Oh, he didn't buy it." Sebastian said. "When Evie and I came back from the candy shoppe, he told me the lady that works there gave it to my Uncle Jacob, Jacob then gave it to grandfather."

Bess frowned and looked at the book some more. She read a few of the pages that talked about the powerful and religious significance of the scarab in Egypt, and something jumped out at her. The words seemed to swirl in her eyes. The warning -- to beware, to be cautious: that Egyptian high priests held powerful rituals to care of everything that belonged and was or would be touched by the Pharaohs. For the Pharaohs were gods on earth . Anyone who dared touch - steal - remove those items would be cursed. 

For all her modern attributes, Bess knew the ancient world well enough to heed those warnings. And she was superstitious enough to know never ever to possess a golden scarab - of any kind - in her own collection.

Little did anyone know that the woman at the shop had seized on this mythology and took the curse of protection over Cleopatra's coleopteran now in Albert's hot hands and worked her own magic over it for her own dark revenge. 

"The scarab is here?" She asked.

We both nodded. 

"In this house?" 

We nodded again.

Bess quickly slammed her book closed and practically leaped out of her chair. He chubby frame had never moved so quickly in the years she was our occasional nanny. Bess went for the nursery door and turned back "Tell your mother no need for payment. This time." 

Bess left and never ever again watched us at our home. 

**

Cleopatra’s Scarab curse takes hold 

In the study, the golden coleopteran that once graced the hands of Egypt's greatest queen, sat open in its white box while my father and Jacob smoked in the corner of the room talking about business and the world around them. My mother, Rebecca and Augusta gossiped about the woman at the Spirit Shoppe. How my mother had never seen her before, how strange it was for her strut around completely covered in veils.

Albert sat alone on the leather sofa staring at the table where with the open red box and the scarab, the coleopteran twinkled in the golden light of the hearth at it's left. He felt it pulling him towards it but he resisted to get up from the sofa. 

His eyes did not blink. His hands became to balls of bones, fists hiding under his legs that felt like stone to the touch. He could not move; he could not say a word. He only stared at the shining relic facing him. He saw flashes of chariots. Then flashes of golden shards slicing through bodies. 

He did not understand what he was seeing, what he was experiencing in his mind. Was this a waking dream? He thought. Was he really asleep with his eyes open? Could he not wake from this?

The voices of the others speaking all around him were muffled. Nothing they were saying was making sense. He could not return conversation or even mouth words. 

He was frozen solid in his seat. 

He began to cry as the strange visions continued to fill his mind -- but they became worse. They became visions of those in his family. Specifically, Jacob on Bellmore Beach in Welshport standing over something -- Sabrina, Sebastian's mother -- Dead on the sand. 

The horror of reliving his son's most vicious sin of murder took over and Albert let out a scream that startled the entire room. He crumpled down on the sofa and wrapped his stiff arms around his body as if something had stabbed him. The pain that came from seeing the truth of Sabrina's murder that he himself helped cover up came to him like the spears to the chest from men on the chariots in his mind.

Rebecca rushed over to Albert who had now fallen to the floor in the fetal position.

"Albert!! ALBERT! What is it!? What's the matter?!" 

My mother saw Albert sweating profusely "He's burning up!" She said.

Albert could not speak. He could only moan and move around, writhing in pain.  

"My god!" my father said. "We should call a doctor!"

"I'll go!" My mother said.

By this time. Sebastian and I had heard Albert's howl and came down the stairs. I carried my little brother who covered his ears from the horrible noises. "What is it?" He asked in his little voice.

My mother rushed past us and didn't even notice. Augusta burst through the study's doors and corralled up on the last few steps of the staircase.

"Everything is alright, go back up and get ready for bed." Augusta ordered.

Through the open doors we could see Rebecca slumped over Albert while Jacob and my father watched worried. 

Albert. from the floor, turned his frozen face with an expression of on his face that can only be described as twisted in horror at what he saw, what he remembered of his on and how the golden scarab had shown him these horrors through a dark wave of power no one could see with their own eyes. 

Albert's bulging eyes met Jacob's. The father lifted his stiff arm and managed to finally un-ball his first and pointed at Jacob and screamed a word no one understood "ISFET!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Over and over Albert screamed this is Jacob's direction from the depths of his chest this word filled the room. Rebecca begged Albert to explain, to tell her what was happening. She cried. She slapped his face to bring him out this bizarre trans. 

To no avail.

Albert's fever intensified and he passed out.

Jacob looked up in horror at what his father had turned into and looked through the open study door and found his nephew Sebastastin staring back in shock.

"GO! GO!! Shoo!! GO!" Augusta said pushing us back up the stairs. 

My father then closed the study door and everything went silent. 

Up on the mezzanine of our staircase Sebastian was shaking. He could not stop. I grabbed his hand with my free one and squeezed it.

"He's sick." I said. "He'll be ok, come." I added.

Cleopatra's golden scarab, the cursed bejeweled coleopteran from the Spirit Shoppe in Queen Anne's Square meant for Jacob but given to Albert had set course to ravage the mind of someone it was not intended for.

The curse was real. And it was alive -- and it would only get worse from there. 

CLICK THE IMAGE
FOR PART III

A Curious Volume of Forgotten Lore: PART I

*

PART I

Evie Jordan-Lord 

I have lived a very singular life. I have loved. I have lost. I have suffered tragedies and I have triumphed. In truth, there’s no one-way to describe the events my journey has taken and the experiences I have endured. What I can say is that despite it all I would never change a thing. 

I have survived. I am, a survivor. 

When I was 24 years old, I left my family in England for a life in American to live with a family I was to be married into. That decision still haunts my family today, even if we don’t talk about it. But this is not the story of what came after, this is a story of how it started -- many years before 

Someone once said, "The more absolute the hush, the more shocking the thunderclap." That seems very true to my life, so I won't begin with Once Upon a Time, I begin with thunder. 

**LONDON, OCTOBER 1898 ** 

The Lords arrive in London

On an autumn day, bleak and dreary, I was to see my future in a flash like the white-hot light of the thunder in the air outside my window. I was only 11 years old; time back then seemed to pass slower as slow as the drops of rain running down the glass of my bedroom window. trickling like transparent slugs that collected all in a puddle at the bottom of the pane. 

This was the day I was to meet the boy I would someday marry. His name was Sebastian Lord and he along with members of his family were headed to our home in London. Sebastian's grandmother and my mother had a mutual friend who tried their hand in matchmaking. It wasn't typical for an English girl from a old money family like my father's to be linked to a nouveau riche American, but my mother was an American and that had worked from daddy. 

The matchmaker friend was called Augusta Stoddard. She was a bird like woman, American too, who'd married several times over her lifetime including to a man who was a former business associate of my paternal grandfather's. She loved to meddle in well-to-do families who had children of a certain age who'd at one point need to marry. To link the families together via a third party wasn't uncommon, but it was old fashioned. This for Augusta, sport for her. Some played cricket, or tennis, Augusta sized up family fortunes and made them bigger by joining them in matrimony.  

My family, however, wasn't one with millions in the bank. We were safely wealthy but nowhere near the Lord empire. I assumed it was a favor to my grandfather that Augusta even allowed the Lords to set foot in our modest London town house. After all, our families the Lords, Jordans and Stoddards, weren't necessarily close, but ran in the same trans-Atlantic circles of a snobbish upper class that I had never understood. Money has a funny way of drawing acquaintances to deep friendships. 

When they arrived at our house, I watched their cab stop just below my bedroom window. So many times I'd stare out of that glass onto the London street and dream about my future, and now there it was in front of me stepping out of a taxi into an autumn storm. I wasn't sure if I should continue to watch the members of the family stepped out of the sleek rain-soaked car. But I did. I watched and I waited for him to appear.

First the driver popped out of his seat and quickly pulled the backdoor of the cab open. The patriarch, Albert Lord, stepped out first in a smart gray suit. He had a silly grin on his face as if he had just heard a joke. I'd learn later that he always looked that way. Then a hand extended out. Feminine. Gloved. Albert's wife. He grabbed her hand and out came the stoic woman I'd soon know as Rebecca Lockwood-Lord.

As she was helped out of the cab she adjusted her coat and looked around the neighborhood. She smirked. It seemed to suit this American queen who'd been around the globe and seen every type of neighborhood imaginable. I noticed her red hair. It was like a deep sunset tucked under a feathered hat shading her fair skin. She didn't look like any grandmother I had ever seen; she seemed rather young. 

Rebecca whispered something to her husband, and he nodded and dashed around the cab. Rebecca's son Jacob followed her out of the cab. Jacob was extremely handsome and as well dressed as any prince at just 29-years-old. His hair was slick and black as night, his eyes so perfectly spaced. He looked back into the cab and said something to someone. It was Sebastian who followed his uncle out with careful movement.

At least Sebastian told the truth. He was as nervous as I was. His curly dark golden hair fluttered in the cold wind and cold rain, and he quickly covered it with a cap by order of his grandmother. His peach toned skin blushed and his lips made a perfect pout. I was surprised at his height -- taller than any 11-year-old boy I had met. The others in his group seemed eager to get things moving. To them, they had to be sure our family was the right one. The perfect English family to join their American dynasty. What did they expect of me? I wondered. I could only imagine, and it felt like the walls around my eleven-year-old life were closing in quick. 

 "Thankfully this rain let up!" Augusta said, coming out from the other side of the car where Albert Lord had helped her. 

"Is it always this .... this here?" Jacob asked gesturing to the rainy sky, clearly unimpressed with his first experience of the dreary cool gray after noon of London.

"Not always." Rebecca replied. She'd been here before.

"You might want to keep the attitude in check, son." Albert replied. "We don't want to come off as if we're...I don't know, better than them.".

"Besides, Welshport isn't exactly Havana." Augusta reminded them all of Welshport's own grayness. "Now Sebastian, I know this feels strange, we all understand, but do try and remember that for Evangeline this is just as awkward. Nothing is set in stone, and we're only here to meet them, alright? Make friends." She added

Rebecca, always the territorial grandmother, grabbed Sebastian by his sloped shoulders and pulled him away from Augusta as if to get him out of the line of fire of her words. "He'll be fine." 

"She's really my age?" He asked, his voice sweet and tender. Worried even. Unsure of what he himself was getting into.

Augusta's head went back with a great big laugh "OF COURSE CHILD! Did you think we'd be betrothed to some old granny like Rebecca here?" 

Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "Enough Augusta. Let's get out of this wet street."

"Yes, please." Jacob said annoyed. 

"I'm only teasing Becca. Shall we? Let's not keep them waiting any further.

I saw the group suddenly turn and face our front door, and my room. I jumped from the window, the small diamond ring my grandmother gave me for my first communion got caught on the white lace curtains, I yanked it off and Sebastian noticed the movement and looked up.

I looked down. He saw me. I saw him.

I quickly turned away; it was like staring at the sun. Don't look too long -- you'll go blind! Sebastian stared only turning back towards the front door when fresh rain starting to fall on his perfect cherub face. 

Jacob rolled his eyes at the weather front and paid the taxi driver and tried to warm himself. "Ugh. Can we please go in." 

As the group made their way to the door, my mother walked into my room. I was already sitting at my vanity. She walked over and stood behind me. Her hands were on my shoulders, and we stared at each other in the mirror.

"I know what you're thinking." She said to me. I shrugged then looked down at my ring. "Trust me I do. These things are completely old-fashioned and truly, I wish it were different, but I think that when you finally do come of age to marry, marring into this family would be one of the greatest opportunities any girl could wish for."

I shrugged again and grabbed my brush. It was silver embossed; my initials were carved in the handle. Another gift from my first communion. 

"No one is taking you from us. This is just a meeting, a way for us to all get know each other better. Then one day, you'll enter a world of endless fortune and new beginnings. You're our hope, darling, to keep things on our end afloat." My mother replied. She hadn't often noted our money problems with me before.

"What if he doesn't like me?" I said turning to my mother from the mirror.

"He will. He will love you. He will love you for all eternity. I promise you." 

For all eternity she said. It was like I was giving away my life to -- to him? To a person, a boy, I didn't know. I took a breath and a whimper came out. I was crying and hadn't even noticed.

My mother began brushing my hair and when she was done, she cleaned my tear-stained face and kissed my cheek. 

"I promise you -- he'll love you forever." 

*

Jacob & Marissa get reacquainted 

Back in our foyer my maternal aunt Marissa welcomed the Lords in. She was only a few years younger than my mother, but just as beautiful and just as American. Her wide eyes of green reflected her spontaneous and happy nature, a trait the English in our circle had yet to warm to. Aunt Marissa wasn't brash by any means, but she was very open to the world around her. Different cultures fascinated her. She loved art and took me to so my first museums and galleries and it was with her that my love affair with the arts bloomed. One Christmas she even gave me a book on works by Caspar David Friedrich. I read it and looked through its pages over and over and over until the book's spine gave. 

I wasn't the only one very fond of Aunt Marissa. Jacob Lord found her equally as beguiling the moment he entered the room. 

"Please, please come in!" Aunt Marissa said, taking Rebecca's coat into her arms. "We've been so excited for your arrival."

"Thank you, Miss?..." Rebecca asked.

"I’m Aurora's sister, Marissa, ma’am." My said. 

Jacob lit up. My aunt Marissa was a dazzling. Jacob was not shy to eye her up and down but there was something else, something too familiar even for people who run in small circles of the wealthy. Jacob and Marissa were not strangers.

“Well hello again.” Jacob said, his handsome young face quickly remembering her from a chance encounter the summer before.

“Again?” Rebecca asked as she turned to her son confused.

Marissa squirmed in place.

"Jacob and I have met before." she replied shyly also making the connection to Jacob.

"Have you?" Albert asked, stepping into the house with Sebastian's hand tightly wound in his.

"New England summer's on the Cape aren't exactly as exclusive as one would imagine." Jacob replied. 

Augusta strolled passed, her eyes never leaving Marissa for a second scanning her for more info through expressions, although my Aunt never gave anything away.

Rebecca too felt her mind quickly search her memories, Jacob had only gone to the Cape with his footman Filipe Braga, no one had ever heard of Marissa.

"So this is a recent acquaintance?" Rebecca asked, Jacob and Aunt Marrisa both nodded, she blushed.

"Last summer." Jacob said shortly. 

"Small world, very, very small world." Aunt Marissa added almost embarrassed by it all. "Please, come into the parlor, Richard is waiting." 

"The smaller the better I always say." Augusta chimed in, always eager gnaw on some tawdry gossip. 

As my aunt ushered the socialite and the Lords into the parlor, Rebecca gave our English townhome a very good once-over. She was impressed. She'd been to England several times over her lifetime She'd always loved the homes, inside and out, and even tried to build a few in Welshport to rent out to a varying degree of success. The Welshport homes were charming and cozy, but they still lacked something these true English homes had -- Rebecca couldn't quite figure it out. 

Our home, however, was indeed special. It was old, but my mother had always made it look as fresh as she could. Clean walls of white, green ferns and palms that stretched the eye to make the tall ceilings feel even taller. The hardwood floors were original but with a yearly varnishing looked newer than anything else. 

"This is lovely, just lovely." Rebecca said. "Richard Jordan, so good to see you!"

"OH! I adore it. So simple." Agusta's voice said of the house. "It's one of the most beautiful parts in Holland Park, we're only steps away from Kensington Palace, isn't that right Richard?" 

"Yes, that's correct." My father replied, slightly annoyed. "Rebecca, Albert please come in, come in!" My father replied jovially as he held little brother Nikolas's hand. 

"Rebecca, you'll never guess who's been seen walking her dogs down this block, Princess Beatirice. She's very plane, but royalty nonetheless." Augusta replied to Rebecca's lack of interest.

"I see." Rebecca said, trying to keep up appearances. 

"We've been so happy to see you all again." Albert said quickly moving the conversation. "Sebastian, go on, say hello to Mr. Jordan." 

Sebastian, meekly looked out from under his thick mop of curly blond hand and like a true gentleman shook my father's hand. "Sir." he said in a boy's voice.

"Good to see you chap, how was the trip?" My father replied to his future son in law with his thick English accent fluttering into air.  

"It was fine sir." Sebastian replied. 

"Well then, good to hear that. This is our youngest, Nikolas. Nikky, say hello." 

My brother froze. Much shyer than me and I was incredibly shy. He quickly stepped behind my father, slightly visible to the group and only whispered a meek "hello" 

"So good to meet you Nikky." Rebecca said, her smile warm as she slightly crouched down to be eye-level with him.

"Aurora will be down in a second, she was just getting Evie ready." 

My name sent Sebastian's skin into a prickly fit. His nerves tangled in his stomach, and he found himself now hiding behind Albert's legs like Nik was behind my father's. 

"Sit! Sit! Make yourselves at home." My father's said, as he ushered Albert over to the bar near a bright window that looked over Holland Park. 

Over in a small cushy corner, Aunt Marissa and Jacob got reacquainted. 

"It's very good to see you, the last time we saw each other was quite the blur of bed sheets and champaign." Jacob recalled.

"I remember." Marissa said, her eyes scanning the room to see if anyone overheard. 

"Do you remember how I kissed your neck. How you clenched my..." He continued to whisper as she quickly changed the subject. 

"Jacob -- I think we should keep that summer's events -- just between us." 

Jacob narrowed his eyes "Are you ashamed of what we did?" 

"Ashamed? No." She answered. "But considering your nephew and my niece are entering this sill and old-fashioned love connection I think it would just cause a bit of a gossip explosion should anyone get word that you and I ... well... became close."

"But we did. There shouldn't be any issues with Sebastian and Evie's betrothal and our budding friendship. There can be two Jordan women in the Lord family tree, can't there?" He wondered.

Aunt Marissa had fallen in love that summer with someone else completely and the fact she had any connection to Jacob was something she wanted to forget. It seemed her free spirit had accidently gone too far this time, and Jacob had become more smitten with her than she realized. Their summer fling had pulled itself into the chill of autumn. Had she known before they met how he'd one day be linked to me, she'd been more careful but there it was: her chicken came home to roost in the form of a lovesick Jacob Lord. 

"There's nothing wrong with a little fun, Jacob, but let's just be respectfully discreet? Shall we?" Aunt Marissa said as an eager Rebecca caught her eye. "Rebecca, please sit, would you like something refreshing to drink?"

"Water." Rebecca replied coldly; she'd already seen Jacob's private conversation with Aunt Marissa. It didn't take a psychic to know what was going on. "We didn't come at an awkward time did we? Is Evie alright?" 

"Not at all!" My father replied from the bar. "I'll go upstairs and get them."

"I could go up!" Augusta suggested. 

"No, no. You stay, rest, please. I'll see what's keeping them." Marissa said, as she handed Rebecca her water. "I won't be a minute."

This gave Rebecca a second to dust off any fluff from Sebastian's smart jacket and interrogate Jacob as she could clearly see my Aunt Marissa couldn't leave the parlor and Jacob's hungry eyes fast enough.

"Careful." Rebecca whispered to her son as she approached. 

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Of what?"

"You don't have the greatest track record when it comes to choosing women. Mary Goode sits in Welshport as I speak heartbroken and a month pregnant if our calculations are correct. And may I remind you about Sabri..." he cut her off.

"You don't have to remind me of anyone; I know exactly what I am doing." Jacob said. Albert noticed their tense interaction and excused himself from Richard's small talk to walk over to his son and wife. Richard noticed too but politely turned and talked to the two boys Sebastian and Nik about Sebastian's trip.

"The two of you need to be as normal as possible today. We've been here all but 10 minutes and you're already whispering in corners. I won't have you ruin this for my grandson. The future of this family is set on this match, he deserves to have a happy future and I believe we've found it for him." 

"Of course." Rebecca replied, as she caressed her husband's cheek. "I'm sorry." 

"Yes." Jacob replied. 

Albert narrowed his eyes at the two of them. His trust had thinned over the years especially after what happened with Sebastian's parents David and Sabrina. 

*

Rebecca & Sebastian meet Evie & Aurora for the first time

As my Aunt reached the top of the stairs, my mother and I had already left my bedroom. As we made our way down the hallway, I turned back and stared at the open door to my room. I felt that if I turned away, even for a second, when I would be someone else. That all my books and pages of art, and bed, and clothes and old friends of dolls and bears, would be gone -- and I too would suddenly be someone else. Sebastian and his family's arrival had me at the brink of transformation, and I could feel it in my bones.

"What's taken so long?" Aunt Marissa asked my mother as the three of us met in the hall.

My mother looked at her like she had three heads "Has it been long?" 

"They're here Aurora, they want to meet Evie." My Aunt replied as she then looked down at me. "He's very friendly, Evie. Shy, but friendly. Are you ok?" 

I shrugged. 

"It's odd, I know, all of this is so odd. Think of this as the first time you're meeting a new friend that you'll have for the rest of your life." She added.

"But I don't marry my friends." I answered.

My mother smirked. "I married mine." 

I looked up at her, slightly confused. Then she turned to the wall and there was a wedding photo of her and my father. She turned back and it made sense. But I was still a nervous wreck. 

"It's going to be ok." My mother reassured me.

"Come." My Aunt Marissa added as she reached for my hand and the three of us continued down the staircase and into the foyer. We turned down a bright little corridor that led us passed the parlor that was now empty. My father had moved everyone into a larger more formal drawing room and as we made our way. In that short walk all I could see nothing but the backs of my mother and aunt and hear our shoes clacking on the hardwood floors that had been freshly polished for this occasion. 

We entered the drawing room and like two sea sirens rising out of the ocean my mother and aunt parted and I walked in between them. Everyone turned and faced us. I looked at down at my feet that were covered by the hem of my egg-shell colored dress. My mother's cleared her throat and I looked up. 

Rebecca instantly stood up, she smiled at me. Very warmly, if I recall. She walked over caressed my face with her hand. The lace of her glove felt scratchy, but I smiled. 

"Oh, Evangeline. I am very pleased to finally meet you." She said, giving each of my cheeks a kiss. "This is my grandson, Sebastian." 

When Rebecca said his name, she moved slightly to the side and there stood the most beautiful boy I had ever seen now up-close. He was dressed impeccably in a royal blue jacket made of velvet. He smiled, his shyness melted away when our eyes met. I curtsied and the rest was blur.

I remember voices, Augusta's mainly. The introductions of who was who too, and Jacob reaching for my mother's hand, Aunt Marissa disappearing somewhere behind me, most likely to escape more time with Jacob. The laughter of my father and Albert bonding. Jacob's eyes scanning for Marissa. My little brother begging to be allowed to go back to his room to play. Even attempting to lure Sebastian up stairs to see his toys.

And in this blur of voices and movement and excitement of these two 11 years olds finally meeting to one day -- years from now -- become husband and wife, I finally heard his voice as he walked up and patted my shoulder. 

"Hi."  

*

Evie and her art book

The grown-ups decided to separate into two different groups. The ladies stayed together in our parlor and made small talk over small biscuits and tea, and the men took to the small study my father had set up earlier that day already anticipating the splitting of the sexes. 

Sebatian and I moved stayed in the kitchen with our cook Holland. He was a tall man who spoke fluent French almost all the time even though he was from the Scottish Highlands by birth. He'd tell us that he was only born in Scotland and raised in a rural part of France. He never really told us from where, always just a rural part.

No one could be sure of the truth, so French it was when speaking with him.

As Holland prepared small treats to deliver to the parlor for the ladies, Sebastian and I got to know each other over a book I was reading. His green eyes were so intense. He was curious, he was smart, and -- he was very cute. I could barely look in the eye as we chatted about whatever painting or sculpture was on the page at the moment. 

"It's funny how the woman stares out of the window and there's really nothing there, huh? I wonder what she was looking at." Sebastian said to me, I couldn't look, my eyes fixed on the woman in the painting.

Stupidly I finally replied in a shy voice "Well she's not real, so maybe whatever is out of the window is not real." 

He laughed. "I guess."

I decided I needed to make more sense and added "She could have BEEN real." 

"What do you mean?" 

Art and the beauty of what someone could do with their imagination was already so engrained in me, I was so sure of myself when I spoke of art. Even if my own little composed explanations of what something was meant to convey wasn't at all true to the artist, it was true to me.

"You see the artist, Johannes Lamme, had this person in their mind. Just this person. He could picture her sitting at the window and he could picture her clothes and hair and details of her face. But he couldn't see what she was seeing. He could only see her." I explained. 

Sebastian scrunched his nose and paused before replying. 

"WHAT?" My little brother asked, his mind too unshaped to understand art. Then he laughed at me and poked at treats. 

"I think maybe he didn't want us to see what she saw." Sebastian added.

His answer to my theory struck me. "Didn't want us to see" ... that was interesting. It made me wonder.

"Why do you think that?" I asked, finally making eye contact.

He stared at me, this boy, someone that in about 10 or 11 years I would, god willing, call my husband, looked at me and smirked. 

"Because whatever she's looking at she's scared of. Whatever it is out there, is coming for her and she's uncertain of what is to come in her own life; in her own future." He said pointily. 

I knew what he was doing. "Like me." I replied. 

Holland heard it too, I could hear him hum a reaction to it, surprised by Sebastian's astute reply. 

"And me." Sebastian said. 

I quicky turned the page of my art book to a beautiful landscape. A painting that neither of us could pull personal worries or anxieties from. It was just a farmhouse on a beautiful day. We admired it and Holland brought us butter rolls to snack on. It was such a strange feeling to know that this would not be the last time he and I spoke or saw each other that somewhere, sometime, some way, we'd eventually come together again. Maybe for another meeting, maybe for another test. Or... worse, maybe on the day of our wedding. 

For now, all we could do is talk about the farmhouse. 

*

Rebecca, Augusta, Aurora & Marissa 

Over in the parlor, the ladies were getting more comfortable in their large flowing dresses that crumpled up like tissue paper on our small sofas. The room was cramped compared to the grand rooms Rebecca and Augusta were used to taking their tea, but surprisingly they did not show any prejudice towards our more humble accommodations, in fact just before I went into the kitchen with Sebastian I overheard Rebecca whisper privately to Augusta that she found our home rather charming and warm. 

"It really was a stroke of luck for us to meet you and your family through Augusta and the rest of the Stoddard family Aurora. I am very pleased." Rebecca said kindly.

"As are we." my mother replied as she refilled Rebecca's teacup. "Lady Stoddard, Augusta's sister-in-law, and my late mother were very good friends, so we've known her too for so long. Augusta practically another aunt to us."

Augusta, the match maker, smiled her wide grin then crunched down on a small biscuit. She made a sound confirming her closeness to the Ashby side of my family then added with a full mouth "When Lady Stoddard told me Rebecca was hoping to make a match for Sebastian, I could only think of our dear Evangeline. They're perfectly the same age, and if I do say so myself, getting on quite well too." 

"Sebastian is very sweet." My mother noted.

Rebecca beamed with pride.

"Yes, they are very cute together." Aunt Marissa said. "I think all of us appreciate the way that you've allowed them to meet so early on in this processes. They're so young, that allowing them years to get to know each other before they marry is valuable." 

"In truth, I had wished that that was what happened with Albert and I." Rebecca confessed. "I was thrust into the Lord family fold like being dropped into an icy river without being able to swim. My father-in-law had already passed, but Mother Lord, Marina, I met. She was very stern. Very hard to get used to. But we eventually got on." 

"Was she the only one of the family around?" Mother asked.

"No." Augusta interjected. "There's an older brother and younger sister. Calgary and --- oh what's her name? The sister, Rebecca, what is she called?"

"Alixandra." Rebecca replied, with a cold expression.

"AH! Yes. Like the empress." Augusta joked, "Alix, for short." she added, almost mockingly. 

"Alix is far more distant than Cal. Both live abroad." Rebecca added.

"Thankfully." Augusta said as my mother and Aunt Marissa shot each other looks. 

"Yes, well, all families have their special members." My mother said as she poured her own tea.

"That reminds me, Marissa, have you married?" Augusta asked as if to brand my unmarried aunt as our family's special member. Rebecca coughed.

Aunt Marissa gulped, she knew where this ship was sailing to.

"No, I am not." 

"And you yet you have a child." Augusta replied, surprising Rebecca with this bit of gossip.

Marissa narrowed her eyes; she could feel the warmth of her cheeks. Rebecca sipped her water unsure of what to make of this unmarried mother. My mother too felt a bit protective of Aunt Marrissa, but she said nothing. 

"I don't pretend not to be disappointed in that myself." Marissa said hoping to salvage her reputation. "The father of my child became very ill before would could marry. I wanted a child, and so, we conceived Roman in hopes that he would be better soon for a wedding. I know what you're thinking, 'what an odd way about it', but time was of the essence. Unfortunately, his father's illness took him before Roman was born and before we could wed." 

My mother cocked her head slightly -- almost astonished with how fast her sister came up with that.

"Ah." Rebecca said. "How very tragic."

"Indeed." Augusta replied.

My mother quickly changed the subject and passed Augusta another plate of biscuits that she happily took explaining how she bought them from a local baker that we all love near Queen Anne's Square. A lovely neighborhood known for its shops and cafes but also for a specific block under a heavy shade of trees where London's most curious and superstitious would head to have their fortunes told by gypsies and palm readers. 

This made Rebecca's eyes light up. She wanted to see this, she wanted to visit soon, if the rain let up.

"Of course, of course." My mother agreed, then asked my Aunt Marissa for help in the kitchen with more refreshements. 

The request for help was just a rouse. My mother pulled Marissa aside and into a quiet hallway where she scolded her about that story of the father of her child. 

"Where did that come from?" My mother asked in a whisper.

"I had to say something, they were looking at me like I had the letter 'A' embroidered on my boddice." Marrisa replied.

"We could have -- I don't know -- made something else up." Mother replied.

Marrissa gave her a look that could only be described as baffled. They hadn't discussed explaining little Roman's missing father. The excitement and nervousness of meeting the Lords overshadowed all else, and in the heat of the moment, the lie worked better about his father. Not even Roman's father, who was indeed alive, knew who he was. Just Aunt Marrisa and my mother.

"Leave it as is. If we bring more attention to the matter, it may make them ask more questions and frankly, I'm not in the mood to concoct MORE of a story." Marrissa added.

"Fine." My mother replied sternly to her younger sister. "We'll just distract them with more talk of Anne's Square. Rebecca seemed to enjoy that." 

Aunt Marissa nodded and then the two went back into the parlor after quickly grabbing the extra plate of treats from the kitchen and checking in on Sebastian and myself.

*

Albert, Jacob and Richard 

The study filled to the brim with smoke from cigars that swirled and puffed about the men like London fog. My father Richard stood near a bookshelf with one arm resting against it holding him up as the father and son Lords, Albert and Jacob, sat facing him both puffing away like human chimneys.

They made small talk about business, money and politics. Friends they may or may not have in common in both New and Old England, "old" as Jacob put it, made the left side of my father's mouth dip. He always preferred Old to new -- in all things. It wasn't that my father didn't like the Lords, he like my mother, barley knew them. They had only met once in New York much before it was decided that I would eventually marry Sebastian. And that interaction was cordial, but the idea that he'd one day set my on a ship to America to marry felt heartbreaking.

And even though marriage by arrangement was a very old tradition in families like mine and the Lords, my father wasn't one hundred precent sold on it. But seeing as how this status update for our family would give me so many more opportunities in life -- he agreed. 

"It's not that the I don't fully trust your Prime Minister, Mr. Jordan, he's surely been very good about this whole situation with the Spanish we're dealing with, but I have to have my reservations. After all, what kind of an American would I be if I didn't keep one eye on our former oppressors." Richard said. 

"What? Oh yes, yes, oppressors. Well, that all ended with tea in the bay, isn't that right? A right-oh way to show the crown where to stick it. Besides, Queen Victoria is no George III. So, it all sorts itself out when the crown switches heads." My father replied, completely uninterested in the conversation.

Clocking my father's boredom, Jacob changed the subject "What is you do, Jordan? I don't think father has told me?" 

"Banking. I work with money." father replied.

"Money?" Jacob asked.

"Not mine, of course. Well, that's not always mine. Sometimes mine. I help the very rich and those who want to be the very rich invest in the great world around them. Money goes a long way now, Mr. Lord, especially with how fast the world moves. Money needs to move just as fast. I help that happen." 

"Quite right." Albert replied.

"I do love that." Jacob said.

"What's that Jacob?" My father questioned. 

"Money." Jacob said, his eyes almost turning to cartoon dollar signs. 

My father's eyebrows bounced up and down quickly, he loved money too. 

"Did your other son work as hard as this one at making money?" My father asked of Sebastian's father David fully expecting them to reply as normal, but the room fell silent. 

David Lord was a difficult subject for the family. The secrets and the tragedy had always been a very dark moment in their history. A scar that was constantly reopened; rife with infectious gossip. Albert, mainly, didn't know how to reply at first. He only puffed on his cigar allowing the smoke to seep out of his nostrils as his brain quickly tried to search for a way to speak on David without saying his name - as if it were cursed.

"My brother had his own interests." Jacob answered.

"Had! -- I forgot. I over stepped." My father replied remembering too late that David was presumed dead. 

"David's ideas weren't always full minded and trustworthy as mine interests are for the family and our business. He was mother's favorite you see. The golden child. " Jacob added finally said puffing along with Albert.

Albert sucked his teeth at Jacob and waved a puff of smoke form his face "David worked just as hard. I won't have you speak of David in any disapproving way." 

"I wasn't saying -- " Jacob began before Albert interrupted. 

"He had his demons, we all do. He suffered from something so damaging that it took over. I can't say that I can ever forgive David for what he did, but I can also say that I can't forget how it all happened either." 

Albert stared daggers at Jacob. It was Jacob, that had an affair with his sister-in-law Sabrina. It was Jacob who confronted by a hung-over David to tell him what he had done on Bellmore Beach. It was Jacob who drove his younger brother to the devastating decision to leap from the widow's walk of Welshport's lighthouse and into the sea -- never to be seen again.

It was also Jacob who made that whole story up. Sabrina did not have an affair with Jacob; she did not love him. David did not kill her, Jacob did, in a fit of anger, sick obsession and jealousy. 

Those demons that Albert spoke of were all monstruous lies brought on David by his twisted older brother.

The family's most lethal scandal -- the murder of Sabrina by David -- is what plunged the family company and their social standing into free fall. 

Until now. 

"No, how can you forget something like that? So tragic." My father Richard added standing from the cushy chair and nervously pulling books from the bookcase. "I wouldn't be able to. How has it affected the boy?" He added not knowing the full story but hoping to warm the room's temperature.

"He's had his difficulties." Albert answered. "But its been about 4 years. He's come out stronger than we realized." 

"Stronger. Yes." Jacob said his eyes slightly cold.

Albert turned to Jacob "Despite outside attempts otherwise." 

Jacob shot up like a firecracker into the sky darting out of the room. His father's reply felt like a hailstorm of words pointed at him over the truth.

"Is he alright?" My father asked Albert.

"No." Albert replied. "He hasn't been alright since he was 10 years old." 

After a short pause my father said something that froze Albert still.

"Albert, I'm not sending my daughter to you in 15 years to marry a boy who'll do what David did to Sabrina am I?" 

Albert took a second to think but that second felt like it lasted the hour. He knew the truth about Sabrina's death. Feeling the sick guilt for allowing David in his death to take the fall for Jacob made it all the worse when continuing the lie. But he shook his head anyway. "The boy is nothing like -- " he paused again "that." 

"That?" My father asked.

Albert was going to say "like his father" but Sabastian was like his father. Kind. Handsome. Funny. Albert could not take that away from either his son or grandson. The "that" was Jacob. Jacob's sickness was his own and was not transferrable. 

"The dark side of this family sits with those who are shadowed. Sebastian lives in the light. I can assure you this." Albert said.

My father finally left the bookcase and came and sat again next to Albert. They continued to make small talk about the things that men spoke of. My father mentioned in that he'd love to take them all to Queen's Anne's Square, a place my mother had also mentioned to Rebecca in just the next room over. It was no coincidence. It was something the two of them had decided to use as a conversation point with the Lords. 

Tomorrow, when the sun woke us, we'd all head to the Square for what my parents hoped would be a light-hearted excursion. 

Before that, however, I saw Jacob sneak into my baby brother Nikolas' nursey as I was walking into my own room. I wondered what he was doing. I looked around the quiet upstairs hallway. No one else was there everyone was still downstairs. 

I walked over to the nursery where Jacob had left the door sightly opened. I looked in and the room was dimly lit as my brother and baby cousin Roman slept. There were bears and toys and blocks all over the place, the boy had always made a mess when they play. I saw these things and thought nothing of it actually, but could not spot Jacob -- at first.

Then, as I peeked in around the door I saw him standing over the small crib Roman was in. 

He said nothing to the baby who was sleeping. Jacob's face was wrinkle free. He was handsome with dark hair and chiseled face. His green eyes were beguiling with the contrast of his dark hair and olive skin. He stared at the baby, Roman, sleeping. I didn't know at the time what he thought but I could guess.

His mind might have wondered back to the time in America, 2 very short summers ago, when he was introduced to a gorgeous woman from Maine who had been living abroad in England with her sister. Her name, Jacob might have recalled in this memory, was Marissa Ashby -- my aunt.

She was unmarried when they met. He too. They found each other at a dance. They fell into a quick passionate affair of one night and soon after Marissa went back to England and then the baby was born. 

I can imagine then that Jacob might have been thinking only one thing as it suddenly crossed my own little mind:

"Is this child mine?"

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FOR PART II