Yorkshire, England 1805
Childermass was unusually attentive as he led her to the library the next morning. He glanced over his shoulder several times to make certain Mercy was following close behind. She had tread the passages of Hurtfew Abbey long enough to know better than to wander away. Mercy was surprised when he had appeared at her door soon after breakfast with word that Mr. Norrell wished to meet her in the library.
Her fashionable pin curls were pulled back lightly by Sarah, her new personal maid who had arrived from York the previous evening. The playful girl had been waiting her rooms when she had returned from dinner with Mr. Norrell. It had been a relief to have some diverting company after suffering through an hour's worth of stale conversation with her guardian, Childermass sitting by the hearth with a suppressed grin at Norrell's attempts at socializing.
While picking at her roast partridge, Mercy had struggled not to let her gaze drift over to the man servant but he fascinated her. He was the oddest servant she had ever met, not at all what she would expect in a gentleman's valet or butler. He glowering and saucy yet indispensable to Norrell for his keen judgments.
Mercy followed Childermass into the library, the room bright despite the gloom outside. It was the perfect reading light and she couldn't understand where it originated from as the candles were sparse and low burning.
"Miss Savage to see you," Childermass announced lazily. He walked to his desk at the back of the room and left her standing in front of the fire.
Norrell was poring over a book by the hearth, his finger tracing a line where he sat on an octagonal table. "Please come in, Miss Savage. Have a seat."
Mercy arranged herself on a hard wooden chair by the fire and folded her hands neatly in her lap. Norrell finally looked up at her with a quick smile and took the spectacles from his face. He fiddled with them as he came to stand in front of her.
"I wish to apologize again for my behavior yesterday," he said. His tone wasn't sincere as much as it was guarded. He studied her gravely, his brows tightening in thought.
Mercy looked away towards the fire. "Please, do not vex yourself any further. I am sorry for my own actions. It was most untoward of me to lose my temper thus."
"Perhaps." Norrell shrugged. "But Miss Savage, I called you here to discuss about something very important. I understand you are ignorant in these matters so I will be patient and as succinct as possible in my explanation." Childermass gave a dry cough at this comment. Mercy wondered if it was to mask a chuckle. "But you must listen and try to understand the best you can. Are you comfortable? Would you like a cup of chocolate perhaps?"
Mercy pursed her lips to ward away a smirk. "Very comfortable, thank you. Pray, continue."
Norrell played with the wire frame on his spectacles. "You see, Miss Savage, the proper study of English magic takes many years and requires dedication. I used to devote more than eight hours a day to the sole study of one magician or another. I thought to perhaps draw up a plan for the next year so that you may come to a better understanding so that your circumstance might be resolved-"
"Excuse me. I apologize for my interruption but my circumstance?" Mercy asked.
Norrell coughed into his fist nervously. "You see, I have come to the belief that you are under an enchantment, a product of your father's meddling-"
"Enchantment?" Mercy laughed lightly but silenced when Norrell gave her a pointed glare. "I'm truly sorry but what makes you think something like that? I have already informed you, Mr. Norrell, though I respect your own pursuit of magical study, I do not believe in it myself."
"It's irrelevant whether you believe in it or not, Miss Savage," Norrell snapped irritably. "Heaven help us, you are as taxing as your mother."
"Perhaps," Childermass spoke. He rose from the desk and looked towards his master, the candlelight bringing out the strands of dark red in his black hair. "Perhaps it would be best to show the young lady instead of telling her?"
Norrell perched a finger on his chin in thought then marched over to the octagonal table. He lifted a hand towards Mercy. "Come here, Miss Savage."
Mercy rose from her seat and tentatively joined him. Childermass approached them with a silver pitcher. A gleaming basin sat at the center of the table. Norrell neatened the books and papers strewn around it as Childermass poured water into the basin. Mercy tugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders, her fingers tingling in that persistent way she found happening more often since arriving at the abbey.
"Now, Miss Savage, do you have a friend whose company you miss? Someone from Jamaica perhaps?" Norrell asked.
Mercy's forehead creased. "Our neighbor Mrs. Waters was always kind."
"Mrs. Waters then. Think on her and watch the water."
Norrell drew an X at the center of the basin, his finger leaving a stream of light. Mercy blinked to make sure the light wasn't playing tricks on her eyes. Norrell lifted his hands, eyes closed, and murmured silently words that Mercy could not make out.
"Oh my..." Mercy breathed as an image appeared on the water's surface.
It was the grand house where her friend lived. The picture sped down one of the halls and shimmered through a closed door. It was evening and a low fire burned in the hearth. Mrs. Waters was sleeping in her bed, her mouth ajar with a silvery line of drool down her cheek.
Mercy let out a bark of a laugh. "B-but it's extraordinary! How...?"
"Anyone else?" Norrell gave her a grin of delight, the first she'd seen on the man since arriving, his blue eyes dancing.
"You mean you can find anyone with this...magic mirror of yours?"
"Anyone and anywhere."
Mercy rubbed her hands together. "Yes, why not... Sarah, my new lady's maid?"
"Very well."
Norrell made the X in the water once more and repeated the incantation. Mercy snorted as the image surfaced and peered up at Norrell's red face. Sarah was pushing the footman Lucas into a darkened corner of the kitchen in a most scandalous fashion then proceeded to kiss the young man. Norrell grimaced and cleared his throat. Mercy averted her eyes, barely repressed wild laughter bubbling up inside her.
"Childermass-" Norrell squeaked out.
"I will speak with Lucas, sir," Childermass groused darkly. He briefly met Mercy's eye and she caught a gleam of amusement in his gaze.
The scene faded and once again the basin of water was itself again. Mercy shook her head in wonder. "What a marvel."
"So you see now?"
"Yes." She nodded fervently. "I had no idea this was what my father was doing in his study all those years. He kept me so sheltered."
"Which is the reason why I am so perplexed by your apparent condition, Miss Savage," Norrell said, pulling a book out of a nearby stack and flipping through it. "I have been reading all I could on the matter this morning but I've yet to find any answers. Whatever enchantment you are under, Childermass seems to believe it causes you to forget it ever happened. It was only luck that he walked you to your room yesterday and was able to witness the phenomenon first hand otherwise we'd never have known."
"It could have something to do with faerie magic," Childermass commented, staring contemplatively into the basin.
"Yes but we can't be sure, Childermass," Norrell corrected. "There is no knowing what Edward unleashed on you, my dear."
"But my father would never have done anything to hurt me," Mercy protested, gripping the edges of her shawl.
"No, but he could be as impulsive as your mother. It must have been an accident, whatever it was," Norrell said and looked up at her. "Though we might be able to gather more clues if we cast a spell of our own over you. One to help you remember what happens when you are under an enchantment."
Mercy shifted in her silken slippers uncomfortably and moved towards the warmth of the fire. "What do you mean by a spell? Will it hurt?"
"No, of course not. But it will help, I believe."
Mercy lifted her chin and glanced at Childermass. He gave a grave nod. She sighed. "Then perform your magic, Mr. Norrell."