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This is the novel I’m typing into Word from the original paperback copy. Story: In 1928 London, Aubrey Arbuthnot’s late father, the Sixth Baronet of Flummox, has cut off his son without a cent. Aubrey sees his father’s ghost. This leads to him attend a seance with Ronald Cockcroft, high society’s most sought after psychic. Aubrey meets Hope Milvain and is smitten. Her boyfriend, Percy, has a manservant named Hornchurch, who in turn introduces Aubrey to a woman who can teach him to develop his psychic abilities. In this scene, Aubrey has tracked Hope to Harrods, the English department store.
Harrods was bustling when I arrived. I had quite forgotten that that damn store was so big. Housewives and servants roiled around me. This was not the sort of emporium I was wont to patronize—far too practical. I preferred browsing in the Burlington Arcade on the few occasions when the urge to purchase something o'ertook me. The task of locating Hope in the sea of humanity was daunting. Briskly, I move through the Food Halls. but there was no sign of Miss Milvain. I stopped to admire a colorful display of fish under glass. Artfully arranged, it rather reminded me of Utrillo.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Arbuthnot."
It was Percy's man, Hornchurch, carrying a wire basket.
"Hullo, there, Hornchurch! Doing a bit of marketing for the household?"
"Yes, sir. Mr. Wisterly is escorting Miss Milvain through the Carpets and Rugs department. He requested that I drive them here, and purchase some truffles. If I might inquire, are you enjoying your studies with Mrs. Griswold?"
"Absolutely topping! Hornchurch, I am learning in leaps and bounds. Speaking of leaps not only did I levitate a teacup, I managed to levitate a chair with myself sitting in it. Hot stuff, what?"
"Most impressive, sir."
"You say that Hope is eyeballing floor coverings?”
"Yes, sir. It is my understanding that she was just purchasing a new carpet for her drawing room. Mr. Wisterly volunteered to help her make her selection.”
"Wisterly. Blast it”
“Yes, sir.”
“I have not been able to have one word with the young lady since that night at Percy's. Her maid tells me she is ‘out'. "
"One gathers that she feels it is not best to associate with you, Mr. Arbuthnot.”
"But why? Because of Percy? Because he tells her I'm a blot on the landscape? She barely knows me, Hornchurch. I'm going to march up to Carpets and Rugs and give them both a piece of my mind!"
"I would not advise that, sir"
"I'm not afraid of Percy. At least not when there are a lot of other people around. And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to tell him off well and proper!"
Filled with righteous wrath, I stomped out of the Food Hall and made my way to carpets and rugs on the third floor. It was located next to Furniture and Furnishings. There, among the divans, gate leg tables, and howdahs, I spotted Hope's bright blonde hair on the other side of the floor. As Hornchurch had said, she was in the carpet department. Tapping her rosy lip with a finger, she seem to be debating the merits of a peach and blue Persian carpet. Percy loitered at a distance, looking at a large display of ceramics and manfully trying to conceal what was obviously a crushing case of boredom. At the sight of him, my righteous wrath took a powder. He was larger than I, after all. but perhaps he would not see me from where I was stationed. I put my hand down over my eyes and casually sauntered Milvain-ward.
"Are you being served?" said a tall, mustachioed, salesman clerk to me.
"No thank you, just browsing,” I said. “Lovely Aubussons, what? Good afternoon, Miss Milvain,” I said in a little voice. "Good after—“
Hope started to say something, turning toward me. Then she got a look at the face under the hat.
"Mr. Arbuthnot!"
"Shh!” I glanced over and Percy's direction. He was examining a piece of Worcester ware. “Miss Milvain, I dearly wish to have words with you."
"Impudence!” Hope frowned, her white brow furrowing, penciled eyebrows coming together.
"Is everything all right, madam?" said the sales clerk. He cocked an eyebrow at me, obviously not relishing my looks.
“You have misjudged me Miss Milvain. I am not the scourge Percy or Cockcroft make me out to be. In fact, if there is anybody you should be worried about, it's Cockcroft."
"How dare you!" Hope folded her arms. "Percy! Come here at once!”
Percy was instantly at her side. Behind him, I saw Hornchurch gliding over, caring the truffles in a parcel.
"Bushbaby!" he said. "What are you doing here?"
"I was thinking of purchasing a howdah," I said stiffly. “Sort of a decorative accent for the old sitting room, don't you know.”
“Like fun you are,” Percy snorted.
“He's bothering me, Percy," said Hope.
"This gentleman is bothering you, madam?" said the sales clerk. “Be off with you, sir!”
"Here, I was merely talking to the young lady," I protested.
“He has been pestering Miss Milvain for days,” said Percy. Hornchurch had come upon this strained little scene and stood looking on impassively.
“He was bothering me,” Hope insisted. “Have him thrown out!"
"Very good, madam,” said the sales clerk, ringing for the guard.
“You can't throw me out, my brother is a baronet!"
“That does not give you license to molest young ladies,” said the sales clerk, giving
Hope a paternal smile.
“We shall have him taken care of. The police will be notified. I should not be surprised to find he'd been snaffling our silver.”
“Here! I mean to say!" I cried. I was not about to be carted off to Bosher Street police court and accused of some kind of sex mania. Looking about wildly for an avenue of escape, I chanced to glance down and note that I was standing on a find red Turkish carpet, the small kind that one puts in the passage. Amazing how much can happen in 10 seconds. If I can levitate a chair with me in it, I thought why not a carpet? But I didn't have enough energy to do it. I needed help. The same sort of help Mrs. Griswold needed when she tried to summon my father from the dead and she had taken my hand. Hornchurch was standing nearby. Quick as lightning, I grabbed his hand, pulled him onto the carpet with me, and thought:
"All right, You beastly piece of wool we are going to lift up!"
Looking back, I suppose it was this sheer nervous excitement that kicked my powers into high gear, coupled with Hornchurch’s unwilling donation of his own psychic energy. The carpet shuttered, twisted, and rose straight into the air. Hornchurch dropped the parcel of truffles, and it bounded unheeded to the tiles.
The effect upon the company was immediate and vociferous. Hope screamed and grabbed Percy, who pulled her close to him protectively. The sales clerk stood, frozen, hand outstretched for the telephone to call the guards. As we rose higher, the other customers on the floor saw us. There was a low rumble of voices, and some laughter. Evidently they thought it was some sort of trick. We hung in the air, the carpet tipping from side to side ever so slightly. I was willed it to stay straight, lest one of us fall off.
"I beg your pardon," said Hornchurch quietly, “but one would very much appreciate it if you let this go back down." Evidently heights did not suit the fellow.
"Not on your nellie!" I gripped Hornchurch’s hand tightly. “We're getting out of here, Hornchurch. If I let go of you, we'll drop like a stone."
"Very good, sir,” he said resignedly.
I made the carpet move over the heads of the mob below, sweat popping out of my brow from the effort. It jerked forward, swayed, and then we were flying! Hornchurch’s psychic energy was combining with my own, and I guided the energy like managing an unpredictable wild horse. I had to keep my eyes fixed ahead to keep us aloft.
“Don't look down, Mr. Arbuthnot!" he cautioned, knowing that if I did we would crash.
"I'm not!"
The carpet scudded through the store and gaining speed, narrowly missing pillars and potted palms. I thought we would have to keep circling the floor until I passed out, when, blessedly, I spotted a high, narrow window near the ceiling above the China and Glass section.
"Duck!” I yelled, pointing the carpet directly at the window. We closed our eyes as contact was made with a great splintering of timbers and breaking of glass. I felt a piece of wood jab me hard in the shoulder, almost pulling me from the carpet, but shook it off.
Wind hit my face. Opening my eyes, I saw that we were flying above Brompton Road, towards the Victoria and Albert Museum. The carpet climbed higher, the wind battering us. Hornchurch's bowler hat flew off. It was a clear afternoon, and the huddled masses below could see us clearly, I was sure. I dared not look down to find out, but gazed ahead at the open sky. My ears rang.
“Please get us down, sir!” his voice was muffled by the wind.
“I don't know how!” There was a roaring noise in my head, and I knew that I had taxed my ability to the utmost.
"We shall fly down now. Please. Down," I willed, trying to visualize the carpet slowly making its way landward. Success! The carpet coasted downward, with me doing my brain–beating best to keep the descent smooth and slow. We were landing by Egerton Gardens; the trees were in early fall splendor. I tried to imagine the carpet as a leaf drifting lately to the ground. A couple walking up the road stopped and stared as our woolen conveyance alighted on the pavement.
"Cor, would you look at that, Mavis?” said the man to his feminine companion.
“I wouldn't mind having a carpet that could do that,” said Mavis.
On stepping off the carpet, I was assailed by a headache so severe that I dropped to my knees. Smoothing his black hair which had been mussed during our flight, Hornchurch bent over me. “Are you alright, Mr. Arbuthnot?"
"I rather think I overdid it, Hornchurch," I gasped.
“Yes, sir.”
“My head feels as if the skin is peeling off!”
“One understands completely, sir. I will admit that I somewhat feel weakened myself. If I might suggest it the safest course of action would be for you to take a taxi cab back to your home immediately, before any inquiring police appear."
"You're right. Get me a taxi cab."
"Very good, sir."
I resisted the urge to curl up in a ball on the sidewalk. Mavis and her mate watched with mild curiosity until they were satisfied that the carpet was not going to fly off again. Whereupon they strolled off, looking rather disappointed. When Hornchurch had succeeded in hailing a taxi, I gathered the devastated remains and set off home for Mayfair. I wondered if there was enough aspirin in the world to cure my headache.
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E'hla had just taken a seat at a table when the Redguard came over and asked if she wanted anything. After a brief moment of contemplation, the Dunmer settled for a bottle of whiskey. While the woman she later learned was Saadia fetched her drink, E’hla leaned back in her seat, relaxing for the first time since she had left home. Llaara was with Dag, and for the first time in a long time she didn’t have to worry about anything.
Saadia returned with a bottle and a mug, set them both on the table and left the womer to her own devices. E’hla poured herself a mug and took the first sip, enjoying the burning sensation in her mouth and throat as she swallowed.
As she sat there enjoying her drink, she noticed someone entering the inn and she offered them a weak, lopsided smile as she motioned towards a chair. “Would you like to sit, maybe help me finish this?” she asked and tapped the whiskey bottle with her fingernail.
