Vellum and Green Vitriol
Copyright © 2007, S. Y. Affolee
The Third Conjuration
Seal XXXII
I left a note at the desk for Rhys when I decided to go with Bickford to meet the Baron. I knew he had wanted to visit the library--to investigate Blackthorne he had told me mysteriously--and I would have merely been a useless tag along if I had gone with him since I had little interest in the sorcerer. I had a different goal--to find the seventh edition of the Liber Tutelarum. The note itself told Rhys that I was finding information on Chesterfield and that I would meet him later at the bistro across from the hotel.
Bickford had claimed that the Baron's mansion was not far from the hotel. "Just a short invigorating walk to the north end of the city," he had cheerfully informed me.
After a few blocks, it became quite clear that this was not a short jaunt, but the portly doctor seemed to keep up even when he was breathing hard. Discretely, I slowed and shortened my steps.
He kept up most of the conversation while we walked, telling me about his education, his specialty in Roman history, his wife, and his son and daughter-in-law who were expecting a child in a few weeks.
"Children are such a joy," he exclaimed as we passed by a bridge filled with small boys tossing pebbles into the canal. "Why, I'm going to be a grandfather twice over now. The excitement never wears off."
"Hm." I thought about pranks and general mischievousness. And little hands with pencils, eager to mark up valuable texts.
"You don't like children?"
Uh oh. Time to tread carefully. "I never said such a thing," I said cautiously. "I don't have any children so it is hard to say what my opinion on them would be."
"Just wait until you have some of your own. After that, you'll wonder why you never had them before."
"Hm." I decided not to argue. People always tried to convince others that their way of living was best. After all, whoever heard of parents or grandparents telling someone else that their life might have been better off without children? That thought was taboo and blasphemous.
Of course, being a book, having children was a moot point.
"Here we are," Bickford exclaimed as we stopped in front of a gray building overlooking one of the larger north canals. "The Baron will be expecting us."
At a first glance, the mansion did not seem to distinguish itself from the rest of the buildings on the street other than its size, but then I noticed that the balconies weren't lined with iron like the others but with stone carved in a classical style. Even the entrance was framed in a similar style in contrast to the more fanciful decorations in the rest of the city.
Bickford rang the bell. We didn't have to wait long for the doorman to arrive. Inside, the foyer was brightly lit and furnished with glass and gold and crystal and velvet. The doorman took our coats and hats and requested that we wait while he announced our arrival to the Baron.
I peered at all of the bric-a-brac, somewhat impressed by the opulence that made the doctor and I look like plebian wrens in comparison. The Baron had wealth and he flaunted it. My eyes also came to a painting--a female nude reclining decadently in her boudoir. Apparently the Baron was not a prude either.
"All of this is too much," Bickford confided to me in low tones. "Why, some unscrupulous person could just waltz in here and rob the Baron blind."
"Perhaps the crime rate in Haven is quite low," I whispered back.
The doorman came back. "The Baron will see you now." We were led through a hallway decorated with more paintings similar to the one in the foyer. By the time the servant opened the double doors at the end of the hall to a receiving room, a small nugget of unease rattled at the back of my mind.
Inside, the receiving room was sparse except for a table and several chairs at the far end of the room. Electrical lights installed on the walls were in strange crystal and brass sconces that made them look like torches. The floor was covered in a lush and intricately designed oriental rug. Windows at the opposite end of the room faced the canal. Two men seemed to be in conversation. The taller one soon bowed to the other and quickly swept out of the room, ignoring the doctor and me.
I thought I saw blond hair and a strangely familiar angled chin.
"Doctor Bickford!" the remaining man exclaimed as he walked toward us. "I am very pleased that you were able to make it to Haven. Who is your lovely companion?"
"This is Miss Ana Talbot. She works at the Institute down in Colchester."
The Baron shook my hand. His were cold. The man was stocky and moon-faced. His dark hair was rapidly thinning and his dark eyes seemed not to miss anything. In fact, he seemed particularly interested in my blouse.
"Miss Talbot! What a pleasure to meet you. I am quite the avid history buff, you know. The doctor here keeps me on my toes."
"It is nice to meet you, Mr. Earlham. Or should I call you Baron?"
He chuckled. "Oh, let's not be so formal. Mr. Earlham will do nicely. Or Clayton if you prefer. My official titles are much too stuffy."
I couldn't help but frown. It had been my experience that the aristocracy tried at all costs to keep himself or herself above the common rabble. But maybe the Baron was different.
"Well, doctor, I'm glad that you came. Why, I have just acquired..."
A knock came at the receiving room door.
The Baron sighed in mid-sentence. "Yes?"
The door opened and the doorman poked his head in. "I'm sorry, sir, but there is a telephone call for Doctor Bickford." He coughed. "It's from his wife. Something about a child?"
"Oh dear!" the doctor said, looking flustered. "It must be my daughter-in-law. She's having a baby."
"Congratulations?" I said, not sure how to handle the news since Bickford looked panicked.
The Baron made a shooing motion with his hands. "Don't worry doctor. Go and see your family in this time of need. Your expertise can wait."
"Thank you, sir!" said Bickford. To me, the doctor said, "I'm so sorry, Miss Talbot, but I must go. I hope you know the way back to the hotel?"
"The directions are rather straightforward," I reassured him. "You should see your family."
"Yes, I should!" With a bow to the Baron, the doctor hurried out of the receiving room after the doorman.
I looked back and caught the Baron rubbing his hands together. I frowned. "I hope his family is all right."
"Of course it is, Ana. May I call you Ana?"
"That's awfully familiar. I don't..."
"You must be winded from your walk from your hotel." He motioned towards the table at the end of the room. "Perhaps you would like a spot of tea."
I reluctantly took a seat at the table, but did not drink the tea that he offered me. "I must confess something, Mr. Earlham. I did not come here with Doctor Bickford to talk about history."
The Baron sipped his tea while he watched me. "Then why did you come here?"
"I have heard that Archibald Chesterfield is your acquaintance."
"The book collector certainly is," he confirmed. "In fact, I met with him yesterday morning. What business do you have with him?"
"I am looking for a book that Mr. Chesterfield has in his possession. I have been trying to contact him but I haven't reached him yet. I have his telephone number and address, but I was hoping--since you know Mr. Chesterfield--that you would have some knowledge of his whereabouts."
Something subtle crossed the Baron's face, something I would not have caught if I had been busy drinking tea. "As far as I know, Mr. Chesterfield is still in Haven. He often consorts with the booksellers, though, so he is rarely home during the day."
"Well then, I suppose I will have to try to call him during the evening."
"Yes, it is more likely you will contact him then." The Baron put his cup down. "Precisely what book are you looking for? I am a bit of a book collector myself. Perhaps I will have a copy in my library." His tone of voice sent alarm up my spine.
"I really doubt..."
"My library is in the next room."
I did not really want to go to the next room, but I found myself following the Baron out of curiosity--from the receiving room through an archway and into a study about half its size. Most of the place was taken up by shelves of books--obviously in mint condition and published in the past three decades--except near the fireplace where there was desk. I walked over to examine the titles piled on the desk top. Seeing nothing of interest, I glanced up and noticed that above the mantle, there was another painting of a nude.
"Take a look around. Maybe you'll find what you're looking for." His gaze seemed to crawl up my body.
"This looks like a very interesting library Mr. Earlham, but I don't think..."
"I've seen how you looked at me." The Baron managed to trap me against the desk. I felt sweat trickle down my back. Somehow I needed to get myself out of this compromising position. "Don't think, my lovely. Just feel." His hand grabbed at my chest and his mouth puckered like a fish.
I turned my head quickly and felt something wet and cold graze my cheek. "Mr. Earlham, this is wholly inappropriate. Let me up at once."
"Playing hard to get, eh? I'll show you inappropriate."
Before he could swoop down with his lips again, I reached down and grabbed. I forced a paralyzing spell through my fingers.
The Baron gave a choked cry and then fell over as if he had suddenly turned into a statue. All of his muscles, save the ones controlling his vital functions, were frozen. His eyes glimmered in fear as I stepped over him.
"Don't touch me again," I told him. "Your paralysis will wear off soon, but don't try to come after me. Because next time, I will forego any temporary tricks."
I let myself out of the Baron's library and receiving room. At the entrance foyer, the doorman rushed up with my coat and hat.
"Are you leaving so soon, miss?" he asked.
"I'm afraid so. And oh, I have a message from the Baron. He does not wish to be disturbed for about an hour. He is busy contemplating some life truths we were discussing earlier."
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