Tea and Inquiries

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Sunday, May 17th, 1868
Josephine's Mews, Little York Place
London, England
3:00 P.M.

The church bells had just rung the hour when Josephine got the last of the cleaning supplies stowed. Her ear counted the peals and with a whispered curse, she rushed upstairs to splash water on her face and change into a fresh shirtwaist and skirt for Rebecca's arrival. A fine comb run along her simple coiffure sufficed to tidy it and going downstairs again, Josephine put the kettle on for tea. The bells struck the quarter hour as the kettle came off the boil and before they'd announced the bottom, she had everything ready. Josephine carried the tray to her desk in the front room and settled in her chair with her notes, there to wait for Rebecca's knock on her door.

At 3:29 that knock sounded. Rebecca was nothing if not punctual. Dressed in a subtle gray-violet gown that enhanced those violet-blue eyes, she awaits at the door carrying a folded parasol in the same hand that her reticule hangs from. A gloved hand comes up to pat her hair into place just before the door is answered.

Josephine pulled her father's watch from her pocket and smiled. She's made good time. The smile lingered as she opened the door to let her newest friend in.

"Thank you so much for coming," she said as she stepped aside. "Did you have any trouble finding the place?" When Rebecca crossed the threshold, Josephine gave the street outside a quick sweep of her eyes before closing the door. Nothing but a stray cat and a dray cart met her eye, the latter laden with bones and rags. She threw the locks and smiled. "Tea?"

"Not at all," Rebecca offered with a small smile. It's not the best part of town, but getting here wasn't a problem. Once inside, Rebecca sets her parasol next to the door and begins to peel her gloves from her hands. "Tea would be delightful, thank you. It's so nice of you to invite me, Josephine." The whisper of her skirts on the floor told Josephine that she followed. By the time they reach the table where tea is laid out, Rebecca has removed her hat as well.

Josephine had indulged in a little domestic shopping in the month since her return from the Continent. The front room and office had more creature comforts in it now: curtains substantial enough for privacy hung at the windows, an area rug provided an island for the desk and visitors' chairs, a nicer book case held her books. The chairs had been a lucky find--a gentleman's club near Oxford Street had undergone some renovations and she'd picked up the tufted leather wingchairs and leather office chair for a song. She waved Rebecca to a wingchair and poured the first cup.

"Sugar, cream, or lemon?"

My, but we're being so formal. I hope she loosens up soon. Still ... Manners are armor and she'd suffered quite a blow the other night. Josephine kept her thoughts from her face and waited for Rebecca's reply.

Rebecca settled into the chair. "Oh, cream and sugar, please." Once more Rebecca reached up to lightly tuck a stray curl into place, though in point of fact her coiffure looked perfectly pinned. "I have a dreadful sweet tooth," she admitted.

Josephine added the cream and sugar requested and passed her guest the cup.

"Please, help yourself to whatever you'd like. I've ham on rye, cucumber-dill, and tomato for the sandwiches." Josephine gestured as she spoke. "Mrs. Minelli down the street made these wonderful cookies for dunking. They've chocolate shaved into them. I had to get the cream scones and rum balls from Claridge's. And of course, tea. Lots and lots of tea." Josephine poured her cup and graced it with a thin lemon slice before sitting down. "Did you walk? I'm afraid I didn't hear a carriage or cab when you arrived."

"I walked from the park," Rebecca admitted. "It's a lovely afternoon and the fresh air clears my thoughts." She took the cup from Josephine and then grinned a bit. "You needn't have gone to quite that much trouble just for me, Josephine. You have nothing to prove, you know."

"Regent's Park?" It was two blocks away. "It's lovely this time of year. I can't say I blame you for walking it. Although the swans get a touch presumptuous if they believe you are hiding a treat from them. Gingerbread seems a favorite of theirs." Josephine breathed a laugh and sipped her tea. She set her cup down and passed Rebecca a bread plate and cutlery. "As for the tea, I was afraid I'd skimped terribly. But please do not deprive yourself of anything. I know how walking can work up an appetite."

So saying, she chose a thick ham sandwich and added a cucumber to her own plate.

Once Josephine helped herself to the foodstuffs Rebecca did so as well. She took two cookies and a cucumber-dill and a tomato sandwich. Then as she nibbled daintily, she asked, "Are you planning to attend the dinner this evening?"

Josephine had taken a hearty bite of her ham on rye and had to chew and swallow before answering.

"I must confess, it's slipped my mind. I was busy with a bit of a remodel upstairs, myself." Half a lie, but true enough. Josephine watched Rebecca over the rim of her cup as she washed the last of the sandwich down with tea. "Were you going to attend?"

As she asked, Josephine kept a sharp eye for Rebecca's fiddling with her perfectly dressed hair. It was a tell, but for what, she wasn't yet certain. Patience, Jo. All will reveal itself in time.

"I am ... uncertain," Rebecca confessed, setting the plate aside in favor of toying with her tea. "I think I shall have to send my regrets. I dislike the thought of upsetting Katherine, and I'm quite sure that giving her husband the cut direct in his own home would be quite frowned upon," she observed drily.

And that, Jo, is the opening you've been waiting for. Josephine held onto her tea and leaned back in her chair.

"It certainly would," she agreed easily. "However, I am also certain that Ezekiel would not treat you shabbily should you attend. We are Britons and we are civilized but when confronted with the horrific and the unknown, we sometimes react with ... fear and civilization is quite stripped away. At the risk of being an apologist, Rebecca, I haven't a doubt it colored his reaction in the sewers. I disapprove of his expression, but I understand it. What I don't understand, however, is what happened to you."

Josephine set her cup aside and leaned forward to put a gentle hand on Rebecca's arm.

"I could see that you were very badly shaken by the experience but could not express why. And I regret I did not offer you more comfort than I did, but I wasn't entirely sure if it would have been welcomed. What happened, Rebecca? What did you ... see?"

Her hand trembled, sending tea sloshing over the rim onto her skirts. Rebecca nearly dropped the china, the cup then hit the table far harder than necessary as she bobbled it. "Oh! Good heavens, I'm sorry, Josephine!" She was absolutely mortified, a soft color climbing her face in embarrassment.

In the flurry of cleaning up, Rebecca composed herself once more and resumed her seat. Clearing her throat she said, "The spell that I threw was not the one that was supposed to leave my hand." She went quiet, her fingers holding each other in her lap so tightly her knuckles were white. "I'd intended to throw a cage. Just like the one that held the fish person. I'm.... I told them that I was just thinking I wanted him away, but that was not the entire truth. And considering how he lambasted me as he did, I am disinclined to speak with him on the subject. I'm well aware that something awful happened.... but I didn't know that until he practically spat at me his gratitude for sending that poor soul to the Elder Gods." She looked at Jo beseechingly. "I didn't do it on purpose, and he already thinks that I'm a complete fool about magic. I don't need further lectures from a man who takes his orders from heaven."

Josephine blinked at the spill but smoothly pulled a spare tea towel from the tray and helped Rebecca repair the damage to her skirts. The damage to Rebecca's spirit, however ...

"If he should so further harangue a friend of mine in my presence, under his roof or not, he and I shall have words, I promise you." Josephine gave Rebecca's arm an encouraging squeeze. "I have no magic. I know nothing of it from personal experience but I have been able to observe it. It seems to me that the manuscript must have had some lingering effects after you'd given it up and it might have befuddled you. Although ...," Josephine trailed off as her words triggered a memory. Didn't Beignet say he'd befuddled Marius Jacob in the Lapin Diamond Affair? She tried to recall what Beignet had been doing when Rebecca had been possessed by the manuscript. Beignet had thrown a spell at Rebecca, hadn't he? Could it have affected ...? No. Say nothing. You've got no proof.

"It seems to me that it might have ... possessed you in some way. I know that sort of thing can happen. It's not just penny dreadful tales. I wonder if Ezekiel realized that. And as to the manuscript itself, I must apologize for my rudeness in appropriating it. All I could see was the wretched thing taking over yet another one of our party. Of everyone there save Evie and Georgie, I am the only one with no magic for it to grab onto and from there, take possession. It was strictly a tactical move on my part. I assure you I have no designs on it for myself."

Josephine gently pushed Rebecca's tea closer to hand.

"And I see no need to discuss magic with Ezekiel. He is not a close-minded man, but his method of affecting the physical world by metaphysical means is quite different from yours or Dionysius Beignet's, and as such, you must take what he says on thaumaturgy with that in mind. Will you take instruction from Beignet on the art?"

Rebecca shrugged slightly. "I do need to speak with M'sier Beignet, yes, but I sincerely doubt he has the kind of expertise that I will need." She looked up at Josephine. "Assuming he can put me in touch with his own thaumatalurgical contacts, I believe I will need to take the manuscript to the scholars in order to be certain whether the effects are permanent."

Her lips tightened just slightly. "Whether I will be continuing my acquaintance with those of the group is honestly in question at this moment, Josephine. I dare say that is the second time that Katherine's husband has taken it upon himself to chastise me in such fashion and at high volume no less. I'm afraid I quite lost my temper with him this time, but it was well deserved I do believe. If he were my husband or my brother or my father, I might allow such familiarity. But I have hardly any relationship at all with this man and he takes far too great a liberty on my person with these outbursts. I am not his to berate."

Even the mere thought of the way that she has been belittled in front of all and sundry –and not just once either!! –has Rebecca once more agitated and upset. Her fingers slip again to the sleek fall of dark hair, as if to reassure herself that she is still presentable to the public.


"I agree. Neither am I." There she goes for her hair, again. Distract her. "That didn't stop him though. You weren't there when he upbraided me for apprehending the air ship during the French Nephews' visit. Of course, considering my method, I suppose you could say he had cause." Josephine breathed a laugh. "I knew exactly what I was doing. He did not and it made him harsh." She shrugged. "I survived his ire quite well, thank you, and I expect to frighten him again into similar verbal harshness before all is said and done. He would not have spoken to me thus if he did not care for my well being and though you may find it hard to believe, I know at base he cares for yours as well."

Violet-blue eyes flicker toward Josephine and Rebecca's reply is tart. "One would think that if he cared so much he might temper his tone instead of treating people as his subordinates, then, wouldn't one?"

"Quite the opposite, actually." Josephine sat back, giving Rebecca her personal space. "If he felt you beneath him, he would have been condescending. He would not bother to give the full benefit of his thoughts, advice, or feelings to someone he did not regard as his equal. I do agree, however, that he did forget to modulate his tone. You ...," Josephine paused to compose her thoughts. "Perhaps I should say that he and Katherine and I were initially thrown together under such circumstances that the finer points of civil discourse were done away with from dire necessity and once the danger was over, we found it unnecessary to retrace our steps and start over. It has led to a certain degree of familiarity that all of us have come to take for granted and it has led us to forget how it might distress the uninitiated when they encounter it. For that I apologize, most humbly, and if you wish, I would be only too happy to speak to him about it."

"Were he and I friends, I might take his tone in the manner you suggest," Rebecca agreed quietly. "However, we are strangers. And I am quite certain at this point that the man does not think of me as a friend -- instead considering me to be a reckless danger to his lady wife. And in her condition, I cannot say as I blame him overmuch." The concession is difficult for her. "You of course may speak to him as you will, Josephine, but I daresay that this evening's dinner is not likely the place or time. I shall send my regrets by way of a runner. Would you be so kind, however, as to carry a message to M'sier Nycie? I had asked something of him and I do still wish to speak with him of it at his convenience. I would be most grateful if you would pass it along to him."

"Of course," Josephine said and took up her tea again. She noted Rebecca's concession and repaid it by not pressing the issue. I will have to talk to Ezekiel about this and soon. If we are to keep Rebecca as one of our team, we cannot have him ripping her head off before she's trained. As to that … "I would be happy to pass the note to him. I trust, however, you will be on your guard if he importunes you with any schemes by which he might fatten his wallet at your expense. Forgive my bluntness but the matter requires it. I am sure you've noticed by now that the man is quite shameless when it comes to pressing an advantage. He is the most skillful thaumaturge of my acquaintance and I believe he will train you very well indeed, but I cannot let that deter me from warning you of his propensity toward financial greed. Learn from him, Rebecca, as much as you possibly can, but be careful."

And your personal dislike for the man had no bearing on that warning, did it? Josephine's inner critic whispered. Oh, no, Josephine answered it. It most certainly did and my misgivings are most absolutely founded, madam. She kept her dislike from her face, however, and only allowed polite concern to show.

"We shall see," Rebecca agreed. "I have noted his tendency. I am not entirely convinced he is the person to whom I should speak regarding the book and what happened. I dare say Katherine's husband is also not the correct person -- his take on the situation is understandably biased by his calling."

"Oh, thank goodness. I was beginning to think perhaps I was imagining it of Beignet," Josephine admitted. "He and I did not exactly hit it off when we first met. If I recall correctly, he fainted dead away when he first set eyes on me." Josephine allowed herself a very small smile. "It appears I'd arrived to dinner in a dress a year out of fashion. Having just that morning arrived from the Continent after living fairly rough for a decade, I was fortunate enough to actually have use of a gown, much less one only a year behind the times. As for the best possible person with whom to discuss the book, would you like me to make inquiries for you?"

Rebecca tipped her head to study Josephine closely. "You have enough ties to researchers of thaumaturgy to be able to put me in contact?" she asked curiously.

"I have a few." Josephine sipped her tea. "And where I do not, I know where to ask."

Rebecca was ... cautious... in her response. She seemed to be weighing Josephine. "Josephine... I realize that you fear what the manuscript did to me in the cavern, but... I need to speak with you about seeing it again." Her words were being chosen very carefully. "Very few people know this, but my talents are not strictly for the runes. I can, on occasion, touch objects or people and see their history. It is... part of what makes me an excellent archaeologist." Her lips quirked into a small smile. "From what I have been able to glean of the book's beginnings... it was apparently a source of great power, and those who wrote it appeared to be conflict with the elder gods who now may be plaguing us." Her face paled. "Believe me when I tell you, we *must* not let this occur. But until I am able to finish reading the book -- as much as I both fear and loathe what I learn from its pages -- it may be the only chance we have to thwart what is coming."

She paused, her hands tucked together tightly in her lap. "Josephine, I understand that you have known the Fleming-Drakes far longer than you have known me and that you have every reason to trust Ezekiel's judgment over mine. It is difficult for me to ask this of you, but I think you will take what I say next in the correct vein -- being not as religious as he is. I believe that Ezekiel perceives evil in the manuscript itself, but... I fear that it is possible that it comes from God's own intense fear that if we use it incorrectly, we could well destroy ourselves and not just the elder gods." It is beyond the line of blasphemy, what she said. But Rebecca clearly believed her own words.

"Perhaps that is true. It certainly sounds plausible." Josephine's eyes narrowed as she thought. "Has it also occurred to you that, as proficient as these fishmen are with illusions, that perhaps the manuscript has the power to tailor itself to the reader's own liking, so as to seem attractive and valuable? In short, convince you that it is what you want? There are powerful influences at work here, for obfuscation and temptation, and I am suspicious of the motives behind both. Your comment, however, that there might be more than one faction of fishmen to contend with is an observant one, and one I have already passed on to the Colonel."

"I am not blind to that possibility," Rebecca acknowledged. "Unfortunately, my concern is that we cannot know until we actually do the research. And while it may well be dangerous... if that manuscript does hold the key to containing or banishing the Elder Gods... how can we turn our back on that?"

"I do not know, Rebecca. But I have seen some of what the pagan Gods are capable of and I agree we cannot let the risk slide. But first we must ascertain the risk. Are the Elder Gods seeking to move against us? Or is that a false threat cast by the manuscript? No," Josephine shook her head. "I apologize. I am theorizing in advance of the data and I haven't in truth enough evidence to prove either conjecture. I agree, however, that this is a matter for more study. And quickly, as we may not have much time to lose." It was, Josephine reflected, a fine balancing act between pure bull and caution … but she could not forget how the manuscript had dominated Rebecca and Josephine was not entirely convinced that it had not affected the woman's spell casting soon after. "But we must be cautious. The manuscript seems a thing of great magical power and mustn't be handled carelessly. Who knows what a precipitous act might set in motion?"

"Ffft," Rebecca dismissed quietly. "I am reasonably sure that you are just as aware as I of the fact that it is not merely a story made up the manuscript or whatever it is that you are thinking. We have already been faced with what the Cult of Set was doing." But she nodded slightly. "I do not disagree that it is dangerous and to be handled cautiously. Which is why I come to you. You are the person entrusted with keeping it safe. And I make no attempt to do more than ask you to let me look. I understand the risks -- up to and including the possibility that I might have to be killed if you deem that I have been overtaken and will bring havoc down upon us all."

"You are very brave to attempt this. You quite put me to shame. However, consider this," Josephine said and with every bit of sincerity she could throw into it, she lied. "Given the nature of this document and all the resources at the Colonel's disposal, do you truly think he would have let me walk away from my debriefing with the manuscript in my possession? He knows of its existence. I told him of it. He dispensed with it as he saw fit and I had no power to gainsay him. I am sorry, Rebecca, but you cannot read the manuscript. If you truly feel you are the only person qualified to read it, you must petition the Colonel. He has the authority to grant that request as he is the final arbiter of it."

"I see," Rebecca replied slowly. "I had not been aware that we as a group had agreed on where it was supposed to be taken, much less that it was being turned over to the army." They'd argued about that at length and it surprised her that Josephine would take it upon herself to simply dispose of as she saw fit. "Then I suppose it is a moot point," she commented, moving to gather up her gloves. "As you have already determined that it shall no longer be accessible, I'm certain the Crown will put thaumaturges or other experts on it."

"I am sorry, Rebecca." Josephine offered up an apologetic shake of her head. "I had no choice. The Colonel had already spoken to Ezekiel and Bertie and they too had told him of the manuscript. I had no other option but to do as he asked. Unlike Ezekiel, Katherine, and yourself, I am not entirely free to do as I wish. I am an agent of the Crown and therefore must do whatever the Crown commands, regardless of my own feelings on the matter."

"I understand," Rebecca repeated. Her own feelings are carefully masked behind the faint smile she shoots to Josephine. "As I said, I was merely unaware. With that out of the way and now in the hands of the Crown, I can focus my attention once again on the dig." She tugs her gloves onto her hands. "I have thoroughly enjoyed our tea, Josephine. I do hope we can do it again."

"As do I." Josephine rose and set her cup aside, knowing their meeting had come to an end. She was dissatisfied at the result but not quite able to pinpoint why. Perhaps when she wrote it down and sent the contact report to the Colonel, it would come clear. Small talk, Jo. End it on a pleasant note. "And I do hope it will be soon. Perhaps one day next week? I have been meaning to do some ladies' shopping and I think it would be wonderful if you could join me."

Rebecca stood and smiled. "That would be lovely. All of this running around has certainly done a bit of damage to my wardrobe."

Josephine laughed a lilting laugh of pure amusement.

"On that, we are in perfect agreement. I am at wit's end making repairs. However, there is only so much I can do with my paltry skills with the needle and shears. I simply cannot put off the shopping any longer."

On that, Rebecca does laugh. "I am ashamed to admit that the more womanly arts of needlepoint and sewing have always eluded me. Quite boring if you ask me. So yes, next week would be perfect. Thank you, Josephine, for the tea and company. I shall send a note round to set a date." She departs, though with much still on her mind.

Josephine smiled and saw her new friend out and spent a moment waving on her doorstep, watching as Rebecca walked to the corner and hailed a cab. Once her friend was on her way, Josephine shut her door and sagged against it in relief. She's spent the past half hour sitting across from the archaeologist with the object of desire strapped to her thigh beneath her skirts. If Rebecca had even suspected how close the manuscript had actually been … Would she have fought the woman, even killed to keep it from falling into her hands?

I am glad I did not have to find out.

Frowning, Josephine pushed off her door and settled behind her desk to write down her notes and impressions of the visit for the Colonel. If she wrote quickly and precisely, she would see it delivered to him in time before he left for home.



You are reading Josephine's journal. Since any campaign is a collaborative effort, Journal and RP entries by our other players can be read here.
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