"Mostly he talked about you."

"No, that's not good enough. What do you know about my mother?"

No reply.

"Please. Please tell me."

His hand went still.

"Shales?"

"I gave my word."

"Dear G.o.d, Shales, you stand there judging me, but you won't help me. You won't bend one inch. Well, then, take what you want and go." I began to s.n.a.t.c.h things off shelves and out of cupboards. "Take it all. Take it. Silver, nitrate, mercury, potash, copper, verdigris. Scales, test tubes, alembics. Take them. The clocks, the measures, the balances. The books. The lot. Have them. Bacon, Libavius, Sendivogius. I'll never read them again." I slammed the books one on top of the other until the air was cloudy with dust. "I have no time for them now. Take them. Or Gill will pack them in crates and bring them in the cart. Sell them if you like. Send them to London. Use the money to mend a few thatches in the village."

"Palingenesis," he said suddenly. "How will it happen?"

"You don't want to know."

"Help me understand."

"It's a mystery. It happens through the application of centuries of experience and learning, through ritual and heat and natural philosophy. It combines the alchemist's belief in a vital force with our knowledge of how matter behaves. It is a mix of what we see with what we believe."

"Then it is no different to my religious faith, except that in religion the agent is G.o.d and in alchemy the agent is man or woman."

"But your religion, which after all is yet another leap in the dark, you think is sane and permissible. Alchemy, you think, is absolutely wrong."

"What I think doesn't matter, Emilie."

"Without alchemy, what other way forward do I have?"

"You'll find a way."

"I can't."

"You haven't told me yet what help you need."

"I need to put right the past. I was a fool to marry Aislabie."

I spoke so low I wasn't sure he heard. There was a long silence. Then he said, "I thought that this experiment with palingenesis was about regeneration, not rewriting the past."

"I can try. I must try."

The laboratory was changing, and it was as if we were in a bubble of gla.s.s, like the alchemical mixture, and everything else was melting away. "What has happened?" Shales said.

I couldn't tell him. The shame of what I'd seen in the furnace shed was too terrible.

"Emilie?"

I studied him: his somber black coat, the tilt of his head, the concentration in his eyes. Meanwhile, the water in the bain-marie hissed, another carriage set off outside, and faintly, from a distant corner, I thought I heard my father's cough. Now I knew why I had been led through the labyrinth of the miscarried embryo, the bleak homecoming, the dead babies, the furnace shed-it was all to show me this.

This, Emilie, is the life you could have had. This is the man who, in the end, I would have chosen for you.

I put my hand over his and felt the tension in his muscles. Then I leaned so close that I heard his heartbeat and how his breathing was rapid and shallow. Minutes pa.s.sed, and I turned inward, so that his cravat brushed my nose. When he put his hand on the back of my neck, it was like the moment when a substance first breaks down and becomes another-ice to water, liquid to steam. The clocks began to tick in harmony, the mice scuffled in the empty cages, the flames leaped in the hearth, and my father turned the page of his notebook.

"Do you really want the dead to awaken?" Shales said.

"You had a wife. Wouldn't you want her back?"

"When she died, yes. I remember the night after the burial as the most terrible I have ever experienced. I couldn't fathom my loss. You see, it wasn't just my wife that had died. I lost . . . I lost . . ."

His hand was tense on my neck. I couldn't bear for him to be frail and struggling, so in the end I said, "And now?"

"Now I've changed. It's nearly three years. I still grieve, of course. But I wouldn't go back. I am different now."

"But if you could turn back time in some way. If you could go back to how it was in the months before she died . . ."

Inside the furnace, hot charcoals hissed and shuffled. The room was so close, despite the open window, that sweat ran down the back of my knees. He stroked my neck and spoke into my hair. "Still, I'm not sure. My memory would not be erased, I presume, and I would therefore know too much. I would rather be as I am now, here in this place I have come to since then."

I stood in his arms and thought, This is how love could be. I do believe that however much I argued or cried or made mistakes, Shales would still hold me. But there was a sudden change; he drew a shuddering breath, put his hands on my shoulders to set me upright, and took a step back. "Perhaps we should find a way of living in the present rather than the past."

"But the present is intolerable."

"Then we must change the way it is, if we can."

"And if we can't?"

He touched my face, just my cheekbone, but said nothing.

"Please, Shales."

His face was suffused with pain and longing. "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. Endure, I suppose."

Faintly, through the double thickness of the doors, again came laughter. In a trance of despair, I picked up the lantern, thinking, Please, please don't let this be the end. We didn't speak and we didn't touch as I led him back through the cellars and up to the stables, and by the time we reached the open air the long, aching silence between us had made me sick with the knowledge that by marrying Aislabie I had burned every last bridge, and there were no words and no actions that could undo that fact.

My husband was standing under the arch, waving to some departing carriage. He caught my eye, glanced over my shoulder at Shales, and gave me a knowing wink. Shales bowed and would perhaps have kissed my hand, but I withdrew sharply, stepped past him, and went back to the laboratory.

[ 8 ].

THE NEXT DAY in the late afternoon, I went up to my bedchamber to dress for dinner. She was there, packing my combs into a wooden box. She looked up and went very still. Her back was to the window so I couldn't see her face, but I could smell her fear.

"What are you doing, Sarah?"

"Packing, madam."

"Don't."

"You are going to London in the morning."

"I shall be staying here."

She shuffled the contents of the box so as to fit in more combs and ribbons. Only my mother's pink ribbon was still draped over a hook. Sarah despised it because it was faded and crumpled. "I think you have to go," she said.

I tied the ribbon round my throat and told her to fetch my green gown. She looked surprised but didn't argue, though it was the first time I had worn a strong color since my father's death. She handled it with great caution, as if the unlucky fabric might scorch her fingers, and stood behind me as usual to tie the strings. I could see our faces in the mirror: mine dead white, eyes black and blank as obsidian, cheekbones sharp as knives, and a twist of black hair falling over my shoulder; she very pale and intent, her lower lip caught in her teeth.

Her fingers were ice cold on my back. When she knelt in front of me to reach under my skirts and straighten the hoop, I saw the panicky rise and fall of her bosom. I couldn't bear for her to touch my head or face; and when she tried to comb my hair, I knocked her hand away and sent her out.

DOWNSTAIRS, THE HOUSE was stripped bare, and at dinner there was just Harford and Aislabie, who occupied my father's old place at the head of the table. He wore a lilac waistcoat and an amethyst jewel in his neck pin, his eyes flashed iridescent as his silks, and he was in an expansive mood. Mrs. Gill, perhaps in defiance of the London cook, had produced a frica.s.see of duck along with a fowl and a side of beef, which my husband sliced with his usual neat enthusiasm. He exploded in and out of my consciousness, so that I caught only fragments of what he said, but I was transfixed by the b.l.o.o.d.y liquid that dripped from his fork and puddled under the meat.

"So, Em. What have you been up to all day?" I said nothing while Harford crammed food into his mouth and Aislabie filled my gla.s.s. "Thank G.o.d we're off to town in the morning. This place won't be safe after tomorrow. I hope your bags are packed."

"It's best to be out of the way," said Harford, helping himself to more sauce. "Everything will begin quietly, but how deceptive that will be. The first job is to mark out the lake and start digging. The rubble from the demolished house will be used as lining."

"Brilliant," said my husband. "Economical. That's how I like things."

"I'll be off tomorrow to see about hiring the right kind of men. It's delicate work. There is a chance that the house won't withstand the pressure of having interior walls demolished, so this will be a dangerous place for anyone to live in for a while."

"Sh.o.r.e them up. There must be a way. The Romans managed a dome with no fuss. Why can't we?"

I sensed a degree of calculation behind this energetic conversation. "I shall stay here," I said.

"There'll be nothing for you, Em. You'll be in the way."

"I've told Sarah she can leave. I don't need her. You can take her with you."

"Lord, Em, what would I do with a lady's maid?"

There was a moment's silence, then Harford snorted with laughter. "What a question for the lady to answer, Aislabie."

I stared at my untouched food and the snails' trails of grease on the edge of the plate, then shoved it aside so sharply that a spoon clattered to the floor. Aislabie separated a sliver of breast from a boiled fowl and filled his mouth. "You come to London, my dear Em. We'll be aboard Flora by the end of the week. She's twitching away in that dry dock of hers." Another mouthful, a change of subject. "Your friend Sir Isaac Newton never touched meat, I understand. In fact, as far as I can tell, he would have nothing to do with the flesh, beastly or human."

This unwarranted attack on Sir Isaac got my full attention. "Very fond of his unusual niece, I understand," put in Harford. "The girl has done well for herself by all accounts. Did not model her approach to amours on that of her celibate uncle, but proved herself a calculating little miss. Just as well, because she won't inherit huge amounts from Sir Isaac. He wasn't a great businessman. Lost thousands on the South Sea business."

"You see, Em," said Aislabie. "Genius ain't enough. As witness the mess left by your late pa. I've had to come up with all sorts of schemes to repair the holes in the Selden finances. Good old Flora, for instance. There's a lot hangs on that ship."

The door behind me flew open. Mrs. Gill had come to remove the plates. I said again, "I'm not coming to London, but please take Sarah."

A blancmange, another new dish, swayed on a pewter salver. "Can't have you risking life and limb here, Emilie. Your place is with me. We'll see how we get on crossing the Channel, then who knows? The West Indies. A successful merchant should know the destination of his goods and how his ships are run. He has to be bold. There's money to be made if you send your ships far enough. I may even sail with her when she goes halfway round the world."

"I didn't know you called yourself a merchant these days."

"Whiskey and guns to Calabar, then a new cargo to the Americas." He beamed at me across the table and took a spoonful from the side of the blancmange, which keeled over.

"I don't want Sarah, and I'm not going to London. Please take her with you."

But their conversation had moved on. There was talk of an estimate made at Jonathan's. Twenty-three pounds a head. Six hundred to a ship. Even if a third were lost, that would be profit in the region of . . . Then a name that had me wide awake again. ". . . ask Reverend Shales," said Harford. "He's something of an expert on the movement of air."

"That's it. Have a word in his ear. Trouble is, he's gone off. Called today to let me know he'd some urgent business in Norfolk. But if he ever comes back, obviously, get something useful out of him."

Shales had been introduced into the conversation as an alchemist might add niter to cause a violent reaction. Gone away? Why?

Aislabie pushed back his chair and lay in a diagonal line, feet far extended, winegla.s.s against his belly, watching me. "Didn't he mention it, Em? I thought you two were thick as thieves. He's been summoned to Norwich by his father-in-law. Apparently, his skills are needed to improve the ventilation of the local prison. Too many felons dying before they've served their time. Wouldn't surprise me if he stayed and took a living there. I've hinted often enough that I can't stand his politics."

I was suddenly so sick that I retched. There was a hasty sc.r.a.ping of chairs, a ring of the bell. "Sarah," I said.

"We've sent for Sarah. She'll take you to bed. She'll look after you."

[ 9 ].

WHEN AISLABIE CAME up to the Queen's Room later, I was waiting for him. I had lit a couple of candles on the dressing table and was enthroned in a cream upholstered chair, still dressed in my green silk. The windows were wide open, and the ta.s.sels shivered on the bed curtains. He looked surprised to see me, but he went to the mirror and began unwinding his cravat as he eyed me in the gla.s.s. "What's the matter, Em?"

"I want to know what you're going to do about Sarah."

He plucked off his wig and adjusted it meticulously on the stand, removed some pins from the tiny cupboard in its face, wound up a couple of stray curls, and fixed them in place. Then he scratched the back of his head vigorously with both hands. "Good Lord. Could this be a touch of jealousy? Glad to see you've got some human feeling, Emilie, but rest a.s.sured, Sarah's nothing but a frolic. You're the one. Come to London. I lose you in this G.o.dforsaken place. We'll have a new beginning." He knelt down, put his hands on the arms of the chair, and kissed my neck, but I was limp as a doll.

"Take Sarah with you to London," I said.

"Not without you." He gave me a little shake. "Get it into your head. She's nothing. She's not the point."

"How long has she been your mistress? Since she came to our house? Before you married me? Is that why you employed her, to have her conveniently on hand?" He laughed, leaned forward, and gave me a smacking kiss on the cheek. As I didn't move a muscle, he began to unb.u.t.ton his waistcoat, shrugged it off, and hung it up. "How did you think I felt last night when I saw you with her?"

"I never know how any woman feels, my love. I know that you all seem to be happy to open your legs if a man hits the spot with a kiss on the mouth or a tweak in the right place." He sat down on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes, untied his garters, and unrolled his stockings. There was no reaching him in this mood. I had seen it a dozen times before, the fatal indifference of his once he could get no more from a situation. "Listen, it doesn't have to be so complicated. Come with me to London. Forget about Sarah. I need you. You're the one."

"But Sarah. You can't just pretend she doesn't exist."

"She doesn't, really. She's small as a gnat in the scheme of things. Look. Look at the state of this place." He took my upper arm and pulled me over to the window, where we could see the broken terraces and ancient woods. I smelled him, my husband, exactly as when he first came to the house-the heat of him, the scent of his skin, a hint of alcohol and leather. "I can't be doing with hanging around this bankrupt estate while my wife messes with the black arts and produces nothing. Did you know I once had high hopes of you, Emilie? I thought there might be something in the rumor that you and your pa had the key to endless riches. I hoped it would be just a matter of time. At least, the fanciful bit of me hoped that-fortunately, the rest of me was somewhat more worldly. But I can't be waiting about here any longer. It isn't the life I want. I need a healthy son. I didn't marry to be chained to some ancient pile and a woman whose whole self is wrapped up in the life she once had with her father. I didn't marry your father, for Christ's sake, Em."

"I don't know why you married me."

"How could I resist? Black-eyed Emilie, the alchemist's daughter, with her pockets full of mystery and beauty to take a man's breath away. My G.o.d, when I first clapped eyes on you, I thought this was the one legend that hadn't been a lie. Everyone knew that the old alchemist John Selden had a lovely daughter hidden in his laboratory. An untouched pearl for some lucky man, we said, so I set out to woo you." He kissed my neck again, and my ear. "What can I do to convince you I love you?"

"Nothing. You don't love me. I want nothing more to do with you. But take Sarah with you to London. I don't want her here."

"Can't be done. She'd be in the way."

"You can't just leave us both here."

"Then you come. Good Lord, the solution is very simple. Come and astonish London again with your brains and beauty. Maybe you'll even bear a son at last."

"You deceived me. I thought you loved me, but what you wanted was Selden, the name and the land. You were never prepared to be faithful. You never wanted me to be as I was, with all that I knew. You have wasted me."

"No, madam, I have tolerated you. I should tie you to my horse and drag you to London by the hair for what you have done in defiance of me. No other man would have put up with so much."

"There's no need to put up with it anymore. I don't wish to be known as your wife."

"Your wishes have nothing to do with anything. You're my wife, and you'll do as I say. To the letter."

But there was something going on that I couldn't quite grasp. He lacked conviction and wouldn't insist on me leaving tomorrow. Perhaps it was because Flora was his pa.s.sion now and that he would rather sail on her alone. So it was no surprise when he gave me a dismissive little push. "Then stay. See how you like it with the house pulled down about your ears."