Evermore by C. J. Archer

completely," George
said.
    "What?"
    "Mother has reported that even more people
are talking about you in a, er, somewhat negative light."
    "My aunt said the same thing." Theo grimaced.
"I'm sorry, Emily, but I think you'll find you have many more
cancelations before the week is out."
    Bloody hell. "Celia will go into a panic if
that happens."
    "And you?" Theo asked. "It is your livelihood
too, after all."
    "We'll survive. We must have built up some
savings by now." I heaved a sigh. "By the time it runs out, we
should both have found employment elsewhere. Perhaps Mrs. White can
tell me how to become a governess." The prospect of leaving behind
my work as a medium lifted my spirits a little. I was tired of
being seen as an oddity. All my life, I'd been treated differently,
partly because of my heritage, but mostly because it was known I
could communicate with the dead. It made making new friends
difficult. Those who believed me were generally afraid of me, and
everyone else just assumed I was mad or a fraud.
    "Good," George said. "I'm glad you'll be all
right. Aren't you, Hyde?"
    "Of course, of course."
    "I do hope Blunt's illness isn't contagious,"
said George after a moment of silence.
    "I don't think it is." Theo pulled a small
package out of his pocket and unwrapped the brown paper to reveal a
little pile of black powder.
    "What is it?" I asked.
    "I think I know," George said, adjusting his
glasses and taking a closer look.
    "So do I," Theo said.
    "What is it?" I asked them. Neither answered.
George sat back and Theo shuffled his feet. "Tell me!"
    "It's opium," George finally said.
    Theo nodded. "It seems Blunt is addicted to
the stuff."

CHAPTER 7
     
     
    "Opium! Good lord," I said. "I don't know
much about it, but I do know having an addiction to it can be
debilitating."
    Theo folded the brown paper
over the powder and tucked the parcel into his waistcoat pocket.
"That explains why Blunt was sick. He must be due his next dose."
He patted his pocket. We now had his next dose.
    "That's what he must have meant about his
appointment," I said. "Will he be all right? What will happen if he
doesn't take it?"
    Theo shrugged. "Culvert, do you know?"
    George's nod was grim. "I
do unfortunately. There was a fellow in the Society who was
addicted to the stuff. He started smoking it to lessen the pain of
a back injury obtained from a riding accident. After a few months,
it no longer had the same effect and he needed to smoke more of the
stuff to get some relief. That's when his health began to decline.
He lost weight, lost his ability to focus, and looked ill all of
the time. He ceased caring about everything and everybody, which I
think was part of its allure. When he tried to give up, or when he
hadn't smoked it for a period of time, he was very much like Blunt
was now. Sick, shaking, terrible nightmares, and that was only on
the nights he could sleep. More often, he could not."
    "I almost feel sorry for Blunt," I said.
    "Was he like this the last time you met him?"
Theo asked.
    "No." I pressed a hand to my stomach,
suddenly feeling a little ill myself. "Oh George, what have we
done? What if Jacob's haunting was the reason Blunt took up the
habit in the first place?"
    "Don't think like that, Emily," George said.
"We are not to blame."
    "Agreed," Theo said. "You cannot be held
accountable for the actions of a grown man capable of making his
own decisions." He suddenly took my hand and kissed it, eliciting a
polite cough from George. Theo let go, removed his hat, and dashed
his fingers through his hair. "My apologies," he muttered.
    "No need to apologize," I said, bemused. He
was behaving rather oddly all of a sudden. Very...earnest. Perhaps
he'd been overcome with ardor. I quite liked the thought of
that.
    "I wonder what he'll do when he finds his
next dose missing?" George said.
    A terrible thought struck me. "Will he die
without it?"
    "No, nothing like that.
Having too much of it will kill him, not the withdrawal. Although
he'll