I was admiring an elaborate display of shells arranged into the shape of a flower bouquet when a tall young man entered, smiling in greeting. He was handsome but not in the masculine, classical sense like Jacob but more angelic, prettier although not feminine. Definitely not. Blond hair sprang off his head in soft curls and his pale skin stretched taut over high, sharp cheeks. He wore small, round spectacles through which gray eyes danced. He looked younger than Jacob and if I hadn’t known they went to school together and were about the same age, I'd have thought him my own age or younger.

"Miss Chambers?" He glanced around the room, perhaps looking for a chaperone. Eventually his gaze settled back on me, or rather my hips, before sweeping up to my face. His cheeks colored slightly. "The footman said you wished to see me and not my mother?" It was a question not a statement. Mr. Culvert was probably unused to visits from unchaperoned girls.

I cleared my throat then held out my hand for him to shake. He looked at it like he didn't know what to do with it then took my fingers and gave them a gentle squeeze. "I'm definitely here to see you if you are Mr. George Culvert."

His face lit up. "Indeed I am." He squeezed again. His own hand was smooth, soft. It made me think of the split skin and bruises on Jacob's knuckles and again I wondered why a gentleman had hands more suited to a laborer or a pugilist.

Jacob chose that moment to appear beside me and I jumped in surprise. "Tell him you knew me before my death," he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Mr. Culvert, "and that I told you about his interest in demonology. Pretend you also have an interest too and decided it was time you met. That should suffice."

But before I could say anything, Mr. Culvert said, "Do you have a supernatural matter to discuss with me?"

I choked on air and tried to cover it with a cough.

"Are you all right, Miss Chambers?" he said, frowning. "Tea is on its way but if there's anything else I can get you?" He took my hand again and patted it.

Jacob scowled at him.

I managed to stop coughing long enough to say, "Thank you, I'm fine."

Jacob, still scowling, approached our host and waved a hand in front of his face. Mr. Culvert didn't blink. "He definitely can't see me," Jacob said. "It must have been a guess—an uncannily good one."

"You're right," I said. "I do have a supernatural question. That's very intuitive of you, Mr. Culvert."

"Not really." He smiled sheepishly and dipped his head. "I happen to be aware of your work as a medium. I've wanted to meet you for some time." A faint blush crept across his cheeks. It was rather charming. Until I caught Jacob watching me out of the corner of my eye. No, he wasn't watching, he was glaring and his eyes had turned the color of a stormy sea. I tried not to look at him. I needed all my wits about me if I was to lie to George Culvert convincingly.