When they entered, all the men rose—Alice felt quite intimidated by this spectacle of male courtesy. If she could have, she would have shrunk down into a small blue heap and crept out of the room like a mouse. Lord Godalming said, “Miss Trelawny, if you please,” and gestured toward his armchair.
“Thank you,” said Margaret Trelawny, smiling a particularly charming smile. She steered Alice to the armchair, then pulled her down until they were sitting side by side. There was just room enough in the armchair for the both of them. When they were seated, the men sat—all but one of them, who stood in front of the fireplace as though about to make a speech.
It was Professor Moriarty. He put one hand on the back of Mrs. Raymond’s armchair, beside the antimacassar. He frowned at Alice—or maybe he was just frowning in her general direction, because he did not seem to see her. She shrank back a bit. Yes, she was frightened of him—why shouldn’t she be? He had been there when she had woken up in the coal cellar, already shackled to the wall. He had asked her to demonstrate her mesmeric powers, and then told her that she would be let out as soon as she agreed to use those powers as he directed. Twice she had refused, before Margaret Trelawny had released her. Now that he had seen her, would he order her back in that dungeon?
But he scarcely seemed to notice her presence. “Where is Raymond?” he asked, of no one in particular. “I thought you told him we would be starting at four.” That statement was aimed specifically at Mrs. Raymond.
She raised her eyebrows and responded coldly, “I told him, but I am not his keeper. He has farther to come than any of us, except Mr. Harker.” She nodded at one of the men—presumably Mr. Harker? He looked young, and rather stupid. “However, having come all the way from Essex, Mr. Harker probably took an early morning train to make our meeting. Dr. Raymond no doubt took the latest one he could—he usually does.”
“I’m here,” came a voice from the doorway. In walked an older man, by far the oldest in the room, thin and stooped. He had a halo of white hair around a bald, wrinkled brow, and leaned on an ornate cane that was evidently as functional as it was ornamental, for he limped as he walked. “Hello, Helen. Lord Godalming. And Seward—we should have traveled from Purfleet together. Now then, what’s all this? Godalming has told me part of your purpose, Moriarty. I am in general agreement with your aims, or I would not have rented you this building—rather, the Alchemical Society would not have rented it to you. As there is no official branch of the Alchemical Society in England at present, I function as its de facto representative. But who are these other gentlemen—and ladies?” Here he bowed to the ladies and peered at Alice curiously. “I do not have the pleasure of their acquaintance.”
His voice took Alice back to the day she and Catherine had hidden in the kitchen below, listening to Raymond and Seward discuss Van Helsing’s plan to take over the Alchemical Society. Were these all members of the society, planning some new mischief? And had Van Helsing managed to gain power, or had Miss Mary and the others foiled his plans? She had no way of knowing. If this was some new plan of the society, how was her mother—or, rather, Mrs. Raymond, for she did not wish to call that woman her mother—involved?
“These are the members of our organization,” said Moriarty. “Welcome, gentleman… and ladies”—he bowed to Mrs. Raymond and Miss Trelawny—“to the new headquarters of the Order of the Golden Dawn.”
CHAPTER V
The Delirious Man
Let us begin with introductions,” said Professor Moriarty.
Listen and learn, Alice reminded herself. She would be just like Mary, who was just like Mr. Holmes himself. She would observe and remember, so that when she got out of here—and she would get out of here, she was determined—she could tell Mary and Mr. Holmes all about it. She leaned forward a little so she could see all the men in the room. Now Professor Moriarty was introducing them. She must remember their names. How would she describe them to Mary?
They reminded her of the characters in one of her penny dreadfuls. There always seemed to be a group of men who fought the monsters and saved the realm. Mentally, she cast them in their proper roles. Lord Godalming was the Peer of the Realm. He was handsome, not young anymore but still boyish, despite the gray in his hair and mustache. He had a pair of very blue eyes. Mr. Quincy Morris was the American, with what she assumed was an American accent. Despite her trepidation and discomfort, Alice could not help being amused by his fringed leather outfit and the large knife at his belt. Was this what Americans wore all the time, or only in the Wild West? As for Jonathan Harker, what was he, exactly? Quiet, deferential, clean-shaven. He looked younger than the others, and had an air of not quite knowing what was going on. She would not assign him a role yet. Seated on the other side of Lord Godalming was a heavyset man whom Moriarty introduced as Colonel Moran. As Moriarty mentioned his name, he rose and joined his leader by the fireplace, leaning on the mantel. He was obviously the Enforcer. His jacket did not hang quite right. When he moved, Alice could see there was something underneath, the approximate shape and size of a revolver. Dr. Seward was of course the Alchemist, a member of the Alchemical Society and the director of the Purfleet Asylum. And Moriarty was the Mastermind. He was so clearly in charge, so clearly the leader of this group. As for Dr. Raymond—well, she was not quite sure how to describe Dr. Raymond. Was he just another Alchemist, like Dr. Seward?
“This is Miss Trelawny, daughter of the late Professor Trelawny, the Egyptologist,” said Moriarty. “No doubt you have heard the name.”
“Indeed,” said Dr. Raymond, bowing in Miss Trelawny’s general direction. “My condolences, Miss Trelawny, on your father’s untimely death. I saw his obituary in The Times and was shocked, quite shocked, at the loss of such a brilliant mind. It will set our efforts in Egypt back significantly. I understand that the artifacts from the tomb of Queen Tera are about to go on display at the British Museum.”
“Thank you,” said Miss Trelawny. “Your words bring me comfort, Dr. Raymond.” Although she made this statement in the same pleasant, genteel tone with which she said everything, Alice glanced at her, puzzled. Somehow, it did not ring true. The energic waves around her head did not look quite right.
“And this,” Miss Trelawny continued, “is your granddaughter, Lydia.”
Granddaughter! Suddenly, all eyes were on Alice. Oh, if only she could sink down into the chair cushions, or hide herself in the folds of Miss Trelawny’s dress! She did not want their attention on her, particularly after such a revelation. Nevertheless, she could not help looking at Dr. Raymond curiously. This was her grandfather? This man whom she knew to be cruel and callous, who had allowed Archibald to remain locked up in the dark? Mrs. Raymond her mother, Dr. Raymond her grandfather…
“Indeed,” said Dr. Raymond, peering at her. He took a pair of spectacles out of his jacket pocket—they had no earpieces and simply sat on his nose—to examine her better, as though she were some sort of interesting insect. “So you found her again, after all these years. And is she—”
“Almost as skilled at manipulating the mesmeric waves as I am, and she will no doubt surpass me someday,” said Mrs. Raymond coldly. If they were father and daughter, there was no love lost between them! She did not seem particularly happy to see him, had not risen or greeted him in any way. So this is my family, thought Alice. She would much rather have been related to Mrs. Poole.