“I appreciate that, truly.” Selina smiled, and Beatrix withdrew her hand. “I promise I will ask for your help when I think it’s necessary.”
“I hope so,” Beatrix said. “Sometimes I think you hold yourself back even from me.”
The coach turned onto Queen Anne Street and drew to a stop in front of their small house. Selina stared at the façade, wondering if she’d ever think of any place as home again.
Home was the small pair of rooms she’d inhabited with Rafe and their “uncle,” who, like Beatrix, hadn’t been a relative at all. Dingy and spartan, the space had seemed extravagant compared to the homes of some of the other children Selina had known. At least they hadn’t been forced to take up residence in a flash house—or worse.
One would think those memories would have long faded from Selina’s mind. But they were indelibly imprinted on her, as were the trying years at the boarding school and, even more so, the disastrous year that had followed.
Selina twitched as Beatrix departed the vehicle, and was glad she hadn’t seen. Beatrix was too adept at seeing the darkness that resided deep inside Selina, even if she rarely said anything, as she had a few moments ago.
Yes, she held herself back—even from Beatrix. She was in too many pieces, had been too many people. In some ways, she wasn’t even entirely sure who she truly was. Perhaps more troubling, she had no idea who she wanted to be.
“What do you wish to know today, Lady Aylesbury?” Selina asked from behind her veil. It was a bit odd seeing Mr. Sheffield’s mother in this context after having been a guest at her house the other night, but Selina didn’t worry the countess would discern her identity. Between the heavy veil and the French accent, Selina was confident in her disguise.
Lady Aylesbury leaned slightly over the small round table, her tawny gaze that was nearly identical to her sons’ dipping to the cards sitting in front of Selina. “As I am a bit rushed today, I have just two questions. First, I would like to know about my son.”
“Which one?” Selina asked serenely. Now that she’d met both of them, she pictured them in her mind.
“Harry, my younger son.”
“How do you tell them apart?” Selina wanted to know if there was a secret to it or if she’d missed something obvious. She supposed Mr. Sheffield was slightly larger across the shoulders.
Realizing her question had no bearing on their meeting and could arouse suspicion despite the fact that Lady Aylesbury had told her they were twins, Selina sought to explain. “Since you told me they are twins, I’ve been curious.”
“Mostly by their demeanor. Harry is more serious. Northwood seems to always have a twinkle in his eye. Which isn’t to say that Harry isn’t capable of humor—or mischief. He was always the one I had to look out for when they were children.” She laughed briefly, then pursed her lips. “I worry he’s too serious. About his work. Although, I wonder if something hasn’t finally distracted him. Rather, someone.” The countess smiled and waggled her light red brows.
“You wish to ask about someone?” Selina asked, reaching for the cards.
Lady Aylesbury nodded. “My daughters suspect he may be interested in a woman who is new to town—Lady Gresham. I’d like to know if they will form an attachment and if that might proceed to courtship.”
Bloody hell. Selina had been reading tarot cards for seven years and, she thought, had become rather good at it. But she never, ever read them for herself. Because in the end, she didn’t believe any of this was actually true. And if she did, she wouldn’t want to know her future. Sometimes, she wished she didn’t know her past.
“You said you didn’t have much time, so I’ll do this more quickly than usual, with just three cards, if that’s acceptable?” Selina had already shuffled the cards when Lady Aylesbury arrived.
“Yes, I do appreciate it.”
Selina turned over the top card. The hair on her arms prickled, and she had a sudden urge to set the card on fire. “The Two of Cups.”
“That looks like two people in love—perhaps toasting their nuptials!” Lady Aylesbury’s glee lit the small room.
This card did, in fact, look like that, and because Lady Aylesbury was asking about a romantic relationship, it would typically mean exactly that. Which was why Selina wished it would spontaneously combust. Since that wasn’t possible, she fibbed. “Because this card was drawn first, it tends to mean a partnership or alignment. Love could be present, but not necessarily.” While Selina always tried to tell her clients what they wanted to hear, she did not want to encourage the countess to push her and Mr. Sheffield together. Ironically, the card as she read it was still accurate, since she and Mr. Sheffield did have a partnership.
Lady Aylesbury pursed her lips. “Go on.”
Selina turned over the next card and felt a bit of relief. “The Ten of Wands. This is almost certainly about your son as it signifies a great burden or someone who is working too hard.”
“That is definitely Harry. Could it also be Lady Gresham?”
Yes, it most certainly could. Selina’s relief evaporated. She didn’t like these cards today. They were far too accurate. “It could mean both of them, but we know it relates to your son, so let’s assume it is him.”
“That makes sense. Lady Gresham is focused on launching her sister in Society. Perhaps that is a burden to her since she is new to town. I shall endeavor to help her. My daughters quite liked her sister and are keen to provide assistance. They are trying to get her a voucher to Almack’s. Perhaps you should read that next.” Lady Aylesbury waved her hand. “No, no, I’m getting distracted, as I am wont to do.” She laughed. “Please, continue.”
Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, if it meant the countess would help Beatrix in her quest to become the most popular young lady in town. Selina took a deep breath and turned over the third and final card.
The Tower.
She liked this card least of all as it likely pertained to her. Rather the woman, Lady Gresham, that Lady Aylesbury was inquiring about with regard to her son. It could mean many things—change, disruption, conflict, but inescapably, it represented a threat. Withdrawing her shaking hands from the table to her lap, Selina reminded herself that she didn’t believe any of this.
“Well, that’s a rather distressing-looking card,” Lady Aylesbury said, frowning down at the figures who were falling from a flaming tower. “I was hoping for the Lovers.”
Selina might have laughed if the Tower hadn’t so unsettled her. The fire reminded her of the fire that had killed her brother. Was her life to come to an end soon too? She hadn’t felt physically threatened in a very long time—not since after she’d left Mrs. Goodwin’s seminary and taken that awful position as governess.
After that, she’d gone to great lengths to ensure that she and Beatrix would always be safe from harm. Nothing had changed on that front. She forced herself to take another, deeper breath.
No matter the cards she drew, Selina always strove to weave a story that would please her client. If she didn’t, they wouldn’t return, nor would they encourage their friends to come. She thought of what she could say about the Tower relative to Lady Aylesbury’s question. “This could very well represent the change to both your son’s and Lady Gresham’s lives should they come together.”