Quantum Magic

Quantum Magic

by

Amanda McCarter

Published by EvilPandaPress at Smashwords

Copyright 2010 Amanda McCarter

Cover designed by Greg Jensen

Cover images courtesy of Dreamstime.com, copyright Zubada

and Flickr.com, copyright Sherrie Thai

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Quantum Magic

Prologue

Life in Bedford had a way of going about its business no matter the occasion. Yes, shops closed for important holidays and government functions, but it rarely noticed much else. Today however, a few of the townspeople chose to ignore their normal routine and gathered on a hill outside the city, away from the greasy oil lamps and the noise of industry. Even some of the more self-important people of the city pried themselves away from their expensive parties and afternoons of nothing. They set themselves away from everyone else and spoke in haughty voices.

Finally, everything settled. Families laid down blankets, mothers balanced children on their knees, lovers settled into each others arms and everyone looked up as the sun set.

It was a while before anything happened. Children became restless and the men began to pace. Expensive ladies fretted over their lace and opera glasses. Lovers opened bottles of wine. And then, it began.

A great white streak blazed across the dark sky. A little while later another followed. The townspeople began to look up again. They gasped in awe at the brilliant display. As promised, a great meteor shower dazzled them into the early hours of the morning. In the middle of it all, a great burst of flame, brighter than everything else in the night sky, more brilliant than all the other shooting stars scraped across the atmosphere. The people applauded and when everything was done, the people went home.

Several miles away, someone cursed loudly to no one in particular.

Chapter 1

Storm clouds rolled overhead and Aurelia chided herself. She had spent too much time at the clothier's shop. The man possessed a sharp wit and she never could peel herself away from his stories. She had sent her personal maid back to the house hours earlier with her other purchases despite the girl's protests. Now she would walk home alone, most likely in the rain.

Thunder clapped and Aurelia wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She could smell the pending rain in the air, musty and thick. Perhaps one of the townspeople would allow her to take shelter in their home. She shook her head. One thing she could count on was for the townspeople to talk and if they talked, her husband, and much worse, her mother, would surely discover she had been out on her own, in a storm, with no chaperon. No, that wouldn't do at all.

Heavy drops began to splatter against the cobble. She peered up and another drop smacked her between the eyes. She wiped it away and searched the surrounding buildings for shelter. The rain began to fall harder. The cold began to drench her dress.

She spotted a house that looked run down and abandoned. It would have to work. She turned quickly and slipped on a stone. She stumbled and fell into a growing mud puddle. So much for drying out and pretending like nothing happened. She pushed herself back up and wiped her hands on her ruined dress.

The overhang leaked, but she knew it would be drier inside than outside. She pushed the door, but it was stuck solid. She pushed harder and it burst open with a loud pop. The hinges creaked. She cringed at the sound, but pushed ahead. She was surprised by how warm it was inside. A strange smell filled her nose. Not like the must of mold and age, but something else she couldn't quite name.

Close the door please, a voice said from further within.

Aurelia looked around frantically. She saw a huddled mass sitting in a chair by a small fire. She had been in such a hurry to get dry, she didn't notice.

I'm terribly sorry, she said, I can go.

The door please, the huddled mass said, you're letting in cold air.

She turned and pushed the door shut.

The mass lifted a hand, Have a seat and warm your bones.

Cautiously, Aurelia crossed the room. Her shoes made a constant sloshing sound as she walked. She spent much of her time in Bedford. She knew many of its citizens. She did not know this man. Fear gripped her insides. She wondered how long it would take her husband to notice she was missing.

There is no need to fear, child, the man said. I cannot harm you.

He lifted his face to her. Age lined the corners of his mouth and eyes which revealed a depth of wisdom and weariness. He peered out from beneath a mat of gray and mangled hair, his eyes like two, bright stars. He smiled.

The old man's expression eased the fear inside her and Aurelia sat in the chair across from him, sinking into its cushions. The damp of her dress felt frigid against her skin.

You’re soaked, the old man said, Go into the other room, he gestured to a peeling door with a withered hand. I have some clothes there that may fit you.

But, how, I…

The man waved her away, Go, it’s no trouble. You’ll make yourself sick.

Aurelia stood slowly.

If you are worried about reputation, I can have that dress cleaned and returned to you.

Aurelia hesitated.

It is no trouble, I assure you. Please go. I will not have my guests become sick out of a need for propriety or appearances. Go.

Aurelia opened the peeling door and found a quaint spare bedroom. The same strange smell from before was stronger here. It wasn't a bad odor, just frustrating to her that she should know it.

Dust covered everything, but she could tell the room was once quite lovely. A rose colored comforter covered the bed. A dark wood table sat beside it. She found a closet to her right. A row of dusky gray dresses hung inside. She pulled one that looked like it fit her and laid it on the bed. She stared at the dress and stripped out of the wet clothes. It had been a long time since she had to dress herself, but her fingers still remembered where all the latches and hooks were supposed to go. The feeling was oddly satisfying.

Just leave the other one on the bed, the man said.

Aurelia looked around, startled. His voice sounded so close, as if gently speaking in her ear, but she was alone and the door was shut. She picked up the soiled dress and set it gently on the bed. She shook her head. It was ruined. She didn’t see how her host would be able to save it, though admittedly, the dry clothes did feel a great deal better.

She walked back into the main room and marveled. The room appeared larger and brighter. Muted greens and blues covered the room. A bigger fire crackled in the hearth. Her host had shed his layers of rags and approached her now in simple clothes in the same dusky gray as her dress. He had smooth his matted and tangled hair. He smiled broadly.

Excuse my earlier rudeness, he said, but I believed it more important to make you comfortable than to engage in niceties. You may call me Marcus.

He gripped her hand and shook it warmly. It felt like dry, brittle paper, but his strength amazed her. He looked so frail before.

Aurelia, she said.

Well, Ms. Aurelia, Marcus said, now that we know each other and your health is insured, why don’t you come and enjoy the fire with me and listen to the rain.

She followed him to the dusty chairs and sank back into the cushions. They were deep and well worn. Someone had used this house quite a bit. She wondered if it might have been Marcus, but that didn't seem possible. It seems different here now, bigger, brighter, more colorful.

Marcus smiled, It’s amazing what the mind is willing to ignore when the body is weary.

Aurelia puzzled at him, I suppose I was a little tired and cold. She continued to stare at the room. Tiny drawings covered the walls, swirls and loops in strange designs she didn't recognize. She stood and moved closer to examine them.

These are quite fascinating, she said.

You think so? Marcus asked. They’ve been there so long, I rarely notice them anymore.

Oh, Aurelia said, How long have you lived here?

For a long time now, actually. I forget the years.

That’s interesting. I’ve never seen you in town. She turned to face him. A mischievous smile played across his lips.

I don’t like to mingle, he said.

But surely, I would have noticed you somewhere? She straightened and put her hands on her hips. Her mother would not approve of her demeanor in the slightest. She found, around this Marcus person, she didn't really care.

Marcus trailed his finger along the wall, Doubtful. I am not seen if I do not wish to be.

So are you saying you can disappear? Be invisible? she asked, raising her eyebrows.

He gave her a sly glance, After a fashion.

I think you’re speaking nonsense to me, she said, frowning. She took a deep breath of the same familiar, unnameable smell. It sounds like something out of fiction.

And perhaps I am. Or perhaps your mind is already full of nonsense and I am simply filling it with truth. His smile didn't waver.

Oh you are maddening, she spun on her heel and turned right back around to glare at him, hands still on her hips.

As I try to be, Lady Davenport. He gave a little bow.

Please, no titles, I never hold to them. She waved impatiently, stopped, and gave him a curious look, I never mentioned my surname to you.

He stepped closer to her, placing a weathered finger under her chin, As I would ever doubt who you truly are? And one in your position should always hold to titles as you hold so little else in life. He dropped his hand, turned, and stared fixedly at a spot on the wall.

I beg your pardon? Fury radiated through Aurelia’s body. She felt herself shaking. Her hands fidgeted at her sides.

He shrugged as he stared, Merely an observation, my dear. He tilted his head to one side, The rain has stopped. You can walk home now. I will send your things along, as promised. Be sure to watch the mud. You wouldn’t want to dirty another dress. I quite like the look of that one.

Aurelia spun away from him and crossed to the door, Good day to you, sir.

Good day, he said in a lilting voice, I will see you when you return.

She turned back around, And why would I ever come back here after being spoken to in such a fashion?

Because, he smiled and spread his hands, I intrigue you.

Aurelia slammed the door shut as she left. Years of dirt shook down from the wood, sprinkling onto her dress. She brushed at her arms, angrily, and took a deep, steadying breath. Blood rose to her cheeks. She couldn’t believe she let her temper go like that. It had been so many years since she allowed herself to become that angry. She was grateful her mother had not seen it. She would have received quite a lecture and quite possibly a stinging reminder across her cheek.

She took another breath and smoothed the simple dress. In the breaking sunlight, she saw tiny patterns similar to the ones painted on the walls of the house. She ran her fingers across their borders. She shook her head. The man was infuriating. She would change as soon as she returned home and send the garment back to him. It was improper to keep it.

~~~~~

The storm made the afternoon balmy and humid and Aurelia was decidedly wilted after the walk home. Her maid panicked and fretted over her as soon as she walked through the door.

Madame, said Mel, her housekeeper. Her eyes were wide with panic. What happened? Where is your dress? You had me a fright with worry. You alone, out in the storm? I'd never forgive myself. She wrung her hands in her apron, even though they were dry. The young woman crossed the room and placed her hands on Aurelia's shoulders. Aurelia could smell soap and flour on the girl. She'd been cleaning and cooking at the same time again. Mel was a decent enough cook, but Aurelia seriously hoped she hadn't been so distracted from worry she swapped the soap with the flour.

Aurelia held up a quieting hand, Please, I’m fine. My dress was too heavy for the weather and I purchased a lighter one for the walk home. I left the other one with Mrs. Donovan for some work. It surprised her how easily the lie came.

Mel frowned, but followed Aurelia upstairs to help her change.

Aurelia held out her arms to allow the girl to assist. Always an unsettling experience for her, she let her mind wander to the dusty guest room in Marcus' little hovel of a home. She did everything herself in a strange place with a strange man in the other room. It would be a scandal if anyone ever found out, but still, it was nice to do for herself again. And that smell, that familiar smell. It bothered her she couldn't place it. Angrily, she shoved the thought away. Even the thought of Marcus made her seethe.

Mel finished and went to put the dress away.

Pack it up, Aurelia said, shortly. She sat in front of her dressing table.

Mum? she asked, and picked up a hair brush. Aurelia sighed. Mel tried so hard to speak proper English, but she did let it slip from time to time.

I need to return the dress.

Mum? Mel asked again, shouldn’t it be cleaned first? It’s quite wilted.

Aurelia waved impatiently, Fine, clean the wretched thing, and then send it back.

No need to snap, Mel said, rolling her eyes playfully in the mirror. I was just curious. It is, after all, a lovely dress.

Aurelia sighed, and let her shoulders droop. Something else her mother would click her tongue at. Yes, I know. I’m just not comfortable with the means by which I came to possess it.

The brush slowed in Aurelia’s hair. But you bought it, mum, Mel said.

Yes, but one in my position should not go around in clothes out of season, she said quickly. Her heart sped up slightly. I should always be prepared and present an example to the public of feminine propriety.

Of course, mum, Mel said, but may I make an observation?

Mel, I always value your opinion, Aurelia said, and smiled at her.

It just seems, mum, if I’m not being too bold, that you listen too much to what your mother thinks you should be, and not enough of what a lady in your position wants and needs to do.

I think I’m ready now, Aurelia said, pushing away the brush. She stood. My mother will be here in a few days, thank you so much for reminding me. I have a lot to do before then, and not a lot of time.

Mel frowned. Of course, mum, she said again, her tone resigned.

Aurelia turned and smiled, I know you mean well, Mel, but I have to do what my mother thinks best. My husband is a captain in the Royal Navy. I have to present myself as suited to my station. Even if that means doing things I don’t want to, such as returning that dress. It is a lovely dress.

Yes, it is, but, mum...

Aurelia shook her head, No, Mel. I don’t have time or the luxury of such things. Now, help me prepare for my mother’s arrival.

Mel nodded and followed her.

~~~~~

Marcus watched as the embers from the fire faded. The room darkened as the sparks dimmed. Though he found the smell and the warmth of the fire comforting, he sighed. It had been a most fortuitous day, but also tiring. He stood and walked to a back room which held a simple desk and a narrow bed.

Various papers, notes, and photographs covered the desk. He shifted some of the papers aside and pulled out a thin stack of photos. He shuffled to one near the bottom.

Aurelia Davenport, he said to himself.

She was very pretty, with wavy hair the color of toffee that hung past her shoulders and bright hazel eyes. They stood out even in the sepia shades of the photo. Marcus had grown to appreciate the women here, even the alabaster paleness the wealthier women favored. He marveled at their obsession with self-mutilation and the tiny waists they so desperately sought.

He glanced again at the photo and shoved it back in the stack. Yes, Aurelia would suit his purposes well. He heard the rumors, the shameless whispers. Marcus knew what traveled on the wind. He turned out the light and fell into his first easy sleep in years.

Chapter 2

The door opened and a flood of servants poured into the entryway. Aurelia smiled. Liola Bennet always did know how to travel.

Aurelia, darling, Liola said, holding her arms wide. She wrapped the bony, withered things around Aurelia’s shoulders. Her expensive French perfume filled Aurelia's nose. She struggled not to cough.

It’s so good to see you, her mother said.

And you mother, Aurelia said, It’s been too long.

Well, the city is such a busy place, as you remember, I’m sure. How is country life treating you? You really should come visit me more often. I don’t like that you’re away from civilization like this. Oh, but there is such a quaint elegance to these country homes. Maybe I’ll convince your father to buy a home out here.

Aurelia smiled and nodded, letting her mother ramble on. Her father would buy a country home only to put more distance between him and Aurelia's mother. She caught the exasperated look on Mel’s face and suppressed a laugh. Her mother turned.

What’s so funny?

Oh, a joke I heard, Aurelia said, knowing her mother would forget about it later, I should really tell it to you sometime.

Well I hope it’s not one of those bawdy jokes these country people are so fond of. I simply cannot stand poor taste.

Her mother continued for some time, commenting on the decorations and making the usual assumptions about slovenly help. She asked Aurelia several questions which Aurelia barely had the chance to answer before Liola continued on. Finally, they sat down for tea, and the woman slowed down, allowing her mouth to chew rather than run.

Jordan was promoted to captain several months ago, Aurelia said, trying to think of things to say that would please her mother. and we were able to hire more servants. He wants to throw a party for the local merchants. We want to turn Bedford into a fine place, if we can. Though the locals rarely notice anything that isn’t business.

Liola coughed slightly, My dear, townspeople notice everything, especially in the country as there is so little else to notice. I worry about you, so far away from the culture of the city.

Oh, they notice the normal things. They greeted us when we moved here and let us know about all of the goings on, but really, there’s not much here. They keep to their gossip and ignore everything else.

What else is there to notice? her mother said. What would they do without gossip?

You’ll see, Aurelia said, I’ll take you into town later. Jordan is sailing off in a few days and I need to get some things.

~~~~~

The carriage rattled down the old roads. Luckily, the roads weren’t well kept and traveling sickness kept Liola quiet. She spent the trip ducked into a corner with a scarf to her mouth. Aurelia patted her mother gently and stared out the window. The storm from the day before had brought new life to the fields outside of Bedford. It reminded Aurelia why she agreed to move out here. The smell of things green and growing as opposed to the stench of industry was refreshing. That and their home was closer to the port now, meaning she could give Jordan a proper farewell when he departed and greet him when he returned.

The carriage jerked to a stop, shaking Aurelia out of her reverie. Liola rushed out as soon as the driver opened the door. Aurelia stepped out behind her.

Mel, Aurelia said, take my mother to the apothecary for something to settle her nerves. I will wait here. She turned to the driver, "Sir, if you call that coach driving, I suggest you reconsider your career. The ride back will be more bearable."

Yes, ma’am, the driver said.

Aurelia turned away and watched down the road as Mel walked her mother to the Apothecary’s.

Lady Davenport, a voice said. Aurelia turned again.

Lady Davenport, it said again. It was Mrs. Donovan, the dressmaker's wife. She was jogging up the street, breathing heavily. Aurelia smiled.

The woman stopped feet away from her to catch her breath. She clutched at her chest and took several deep gulps of air. I thought, she panted, you forgot.

Forgot? Aurelia asked, raising an eyebrow.

Your dress, ma’am. I’ve had it ready for days ma’am.

My dress, yes of course, Aurelia said. Her shoulders tensed and something churned in her belly. She certainly didn't recall making an order with Mr. Donovan. He didn't have any fabrics she was interested in. Surely, it couldn't be... She flashed Mrs. Donovan a smile. I’ll be by shortly to pick it up.

I can bring it to you, ma’am, the older woman said.

No, no, not necessary. Go back to your shop and rest. I’ll be along in time. Aurelia's heart thudded in her chest. What the devil was going on?

She waited for some time, but Mel and her mother did not return. She turned back to the driver, Tell them to meet me at the clothier’s shop. I suspect my mother is quite ill and I can’t wait much longer. Mrs. Donovan is expecting me.

The driver tipped his hat, Of course ma’am.

Aurelia took a leisurely pace to the clothier's shop. She wanted to give Mrs. Donovan time to compose herself and think about the implications of a dress order she never made. She smiled and nodded to the townspeople she saw. They smiled back and went about their business. She was sure that there was a fair amount of gossip behind closed doors, but they generally left her in peace. Maybe it was because she was an outsider. Either way, she preferred it. Especially now.

Lady Davenport, Mr. Donovan said, waving her in. We’ve been waiting for you. He put an arm around her and all but pulled her into the store. The missus has really outdone herself this time. You didn’t really give her much to go on though.

I apologize, Aurelia said, hesitantly. She still felt very confused and apprehensive. I’ll try to be more specific in the future.

Mr. Donovan waved a hand, No need, she enjoyed it really. She’s quite pleased with herself, really. You should have heard her when she finished.

Bill, came Mrs. Donovan’s voice, are you badgering our customers again? Leave the poor girl alone.

Mr. Donovan shrugged, Just givin’ credit where credit’s due, Miriam.

Mrs. Donovan laughed, Have a seat, my lady. I’ll get your dress.

Aurelia sat and listened to one of Mr. Donovan’s stories. She suspected he made up the majority of his tales, but she found them wonderfully amusing. And it took her mind off the stress of her mother and the uncomfortable situation she suddenly found herself in.

"Here it is, mum, sorry we couldn’t get it