‘This is a general reading reflecting where you’ve been and where you are now,’ she said.

  ‘I know where I am. Sydney Town.’

  ‘I mean where you are in your life,’ Serafina said, not looking up but making it very clear by her frosty tone that she knew he was being a deliberate smartarse. ‘The next spread I’ll do will answer the questions you have.’

  Leaning back in his own chair, Leo looked at Leary through half-closed eyes. The man was frightened, or at least visibly on edge. Sweat had popped out on his forehead and his leg was fidgeting under the table. Was it Serafina and the cards unnerving him, or was he worried he’d discover his brother wasn’t in Sydney after all? Or something else altogether? Leo shifted his gaze to Serafina, staring intently down at the spread. He knew the cards were just a prop. She had the sight and could see the future, and the past, by just letting her mind drift. It scared the shit out of him, actually.

  ‘Mmm,’ Serafina said at last. ‘A port city. Not London. Bristol? Liverpool? Liverpool, I think. You come from a large family, more sisters than brothers. Four sisters? And — forgive me for being blunt — you’re all as crooked as they come. What were you transported for, Mr Leary?’ She glanced up: he was staring at her, his eyes comically round. ‘Your father is dead. Your mother is a strong woman, a matriarch. And very, very smart. Perhaps even smarter than you realise. There isn’t a lot of trust in your family, though, is there? You certainly don’t trust anyone. You’re always looking over your shoulder. But then, you’d need to, in your line of work. Your brothers … oh, I see one has recently passed over. Did you know that?’

  Leary nodded.

  Leo was surprised; Serafina wasn’t pulling her punches. He knew that normally she didn’t pass on bad news to customers, unless they specifically asked to be told.

  She looked at the cards again, and frowned. ‘I’ll come back to the other brother. This one …’ she tapped a card illustrated with ten brightly coloured pentacles ‘… is interesting. It represents the accumulation or laying away of wealth over a period of time. Did your family, or a member of your family, make an investment of some sort at some time in the past?’

  Leo, who knew Serafina very well, noted the tiniest of smirks on her lips, but doubted Leary had. Obviously not wanting to give anything away concerning his financial affairs, Leary said nothing.

  ‘If so,’ Serafina continued, ‘it may be about to come to fruition.’ She studied the cards a moment longer, then her gaze lifted and settled on a point somewhere behind Leary’s head.

  Leo knew she was seeing far, far beyond the confines of her little house and anything the cards might be telling her now, and the hairs on his arms rippled.

  ‘Streets,’ she said. ‘A tapestry of old city streets running down to the dirty river. Saints in the fields. The bewigged on one side and the poor on the other. Oh, the dirty little children. Books and coffee and a long, long strand. The market and churches with graveyards and spires made tiny. Oranges and lemons, ringy bells at —’

  Leo slammed the flat of his hand on the table, the sound a pistol crack in the little room, his gaze on Leary, whose mouth had fallen open, an expression of shock on his face. He shot an angry, fearful glance at Leo.

  Serafina started, and blinked. ‘What?’

  Leo was horrified. Had she been seeing the location disclosed by all three of the Leary brothers’ tattooed maps? Or even worse, the secret they revealed? Whatever that was, it was plain Leary wanted it very badly. If he suspected she had seen, she could be in real danger.

  ‘You drifted off,’ he said, forcing himself to sound calm.

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘What did you just say?’ Leary demanded.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Just then, about rivers and churches.’ Leary waved his hand angrily. ‘What did you mean?’

  ‘I really don’t know,’ Serafina said. ‘Sometimes these things just come to me. They come through me. I’m barely aware of what I’m saying. Do you know what it means? It’s your reading.’

  Leary remained silent.

  Leo stared at him; Leary glared back. It was clear from his clenched jaw and the vein pulsing in his forehead that he did have a good idea of what Serafina’s vision meant, but also that he was furious that Leo, and probably Serafina, had shared it. It occurred to Leo that Leary might think he’d brought him here to deliberately delve into his secrets for his own gain. Shit.

  Serafina gathered up the cards, shuffled them once more, asked Leary to think of the question he wanted answered, and laid a spread of seven.

  She frowned again.

  ‘Your brother’s here,’ she said.

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘The one who still lives.’

  ‘Bennett?’

  ‘The cards don’t give names,’ Serafina said.

  Leary stood to lean across the table. ‘Where? Where is he?’

  Staring intently at the spread, Serafina said, ‘In Australia somewhere.’

  ‘Where?’ Leary’s hand shot out and grabbed Serafina’s wrist.

  Leo leapt out of his chair, knocking it over with a clatter. ‘Hoi! Get your hands off her!’

  Unperturbed, Serafina calmly dug the fingernails of her other hand into the flesh of Leary’s palm until he let go. ‘That is not going to dispose me to tell you anything further. Either sit down or get out.’

  Leary glared at her for a moment, then tugged at the hem of his jacket and resumed his seat.

  ‘I can’t tell you exactly where,’ Serafina said. ‘The cards are not that specific. Sydney, perhaps. Van Diemen’s Land? But I can tell you he’s not incarcerated, and by that I mean not behind bars or in irons.’

  ‘So he could be assigned?’

  Serafina shrugged.

  ‘Or have a ticket of leave?’

  Nothing from Serafina this time.

  ‘I need more than that if I’m going to find him,’ Leary snapped.

  ‘When was he transported?’ Leo asked.

  Leary started, as though he’d forgotten Leo was there. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen him for ten years.’

  ‘Could he be free by now?’ Leo said.

  ‘I doubt it. He’d’ve got fourteen years, or even life.’

  Serafina gave him a thoughtful look. ‘Really? Why do you think he was transported?’

  Leary’s face hardened. ‘None of your business.’

  ‘Well, at least now you know he really is here in Australia,’ Leo said.

  ‘Only according to a didikai fortune teller.’

  ‘Excuse me.’ Serafina’s voice was icy. ‘I have no Romany blood in my veins whatsoever.’

  ‘And that being the case,’ Leo went on, ignoring both Leary’s and Serafina’s comments, ‘you can stop terrorising Harrie Clarke.’

  ‘I can’t see why I should,’ Leary said. ‘I still don’t know where the fuck my brother is.’

  ‘And neither does Harrie, so leave her alone. I mean it. She hasn’t got a clue. You’re wasting your time.’

  Leary stood. ‘Well, we’ll see about that.’ And he left, banging the door behind him.

  ‘What an arsehole,’ Serafina said. ‘Thank you very much, Leo. I can do without customers like that.’

  Leo let out an enormous sigh. That hadn’t quite gone the way he’d wanted it to. ‘I’m sorry, love. I was hoping you’d be able to tell him exactly where his sodding bloody brother is, and get him off Harrie’s back. And mine.’

  ‘I can’t see everything, you know. I’m not that good. The brother is in Sydney, though. I did see that much.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope Leary buggers off for six months on a wild goose chase,’ Leo said. ‘Did you recognise what you saw? The business with the oranges and lemons?’

  ‘Pretty much. It was a map. Of London, and detailed, but a little blurred. I’ve been there myself, and so, probably, have you.’

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ Leo said, alarmed. ‘I don’t want to know.’ He hesitated. ‘Was there something else you didn’t tell him?’

  Serafina nodded. ‘In the second spread, concerning his brother. They’re more or less for show, the cards, you know that, but they do tend to reveal some interesting things. Leary got the Magus, in conjunction with two other specific cards, which signifies a reversal pointing towards the Empress. Harrie’s friend, Friday Woolfe, got the same reading. Very unusual, and very odd. I can’t say I know what it means. And I can’t “see” what it means, either. I’ve never come across it before, and I’ve no idea what connection there might be between Leary and his brother, and Friday. If there is one at all.’ She rubbed her mouth thoughtfully and made a face. ‘And when I “saw” Leary’s brother, I didn’t, not really. I had a sense of him, but I couldn’t see his features at all, and often I can. It was almost as if he’s …’ She thought for a second. ‘I don’t know how to describe it, I really don’t.’

  Leo scowled. It all sounded very strange. But it was Serafina’s field, not his, and the less he had to do with it the better, as far as he was concerned. ‘What sort of investment did Leary’s family make? Could you see?’

  Serafina laughed. ‘Someone did a robbery. A big one. There’s quite a stash hidden away.’ Her brow furrowed slightly. ‘Or at least I think there is.’

  Ah, Leo thought, so that’s what the maps mean. Bloody funny place to put them, though — tattooed onto actual people.

  ‘Be careful, Leo,’ Serafina said. ‘That Leary’s dangerous.’

  ‘Don’t fret, love.’ Leo stood and pushed his chair under the table.

  ‘And don’t bring him back. I won’t have him in my house again.’

  ‘Fair enough. I’d better go. He might be lurking outside, checking to see whether I come out or not. I told him we’re barely acquainted.’

  Serafina raised her face for a kiss. ‘I mean it. You need to take care.’

  And Leo took heed, because he knew she’d seen his future.

  While Leo was escorting Jonah Leary to Essex Street, James was trudging home from work even later than usual. There had been a backlog of patients this afternoon, due to a thirteen-year-old girl giving birth in the surgery. Her mother had brought her in, seeking a diagnosis and cure for the large and painful ‘growth’ in the girl’s belly. Lawrence Chandler had taken one look at her, clutching her abdomen and howling her head off, understood the situation, and had barely got her skirts out of the way before the baby crowned. The mother, also belatedly realising what was going on, had laid into her daughter mid-delivery; Lawrence had shoved her out of the way, after which the mother had punched Lawrence, who had been forced to shout for James. When James had come running and hauled the mother out of the room, Lawrence had locked the door and finished delivering the baby. Unfortunately, the girl had torn due to her diminutive size and the speed of the baby’s exit, and the repair had taken Lawrence some time. James had seen as many of Lawrence’s patients as he could, but still, they hadn’t closed the surgery until after six-thirty.

  As always, James hoped to be greeted by Harrie’s smiling face, though often he was disappointed. Sometimes she was relaxed and calm and approaching cheerful, but usually she wasn’t. Some days he wondered if she was ever going to get well, but he knew that what ailed her could take months, even years, to heal. Still, he was prepared to wait.

  She’d been living in his house for a little over seven weeks now. Technically he was her master, and he felt deeply uncomfortable about the dynamic that created between them, but apparently he was the only one who did. Harrie seemed quite happy to ignore his legal status in their relationship, going off to tattoo for Leo Dundas whenever she felt like it, when in theory she should be working in a domestic capacity at home. He was the one, however, who’d suggested she find herself something to occupy her mind, though he hadn’t meant tattooing hairy sailors, and he genuinely didn’t want her to feel in a position of servitude towards him. Lately, though, she’d begun to do a bit of housework and prepare meals, and a damned good cook she was, too. He suspected she was taking on some of the domestic duties around the house because she felt guilty — he knew she constantly felt guilty about something or other, and he wished she wouldn’t — and he wondered if she was also bored, which must surely be a good sign.

  He’d been very, very careful not make any advances towards her, apart from a hug or two and that single but delicious kiss on her lips on Christmas Day, and it was killing him. He’d loved her constantly and passionately for more than three years, no matter how she’d looked or where her mind had taken her, but now that her figure was filling out again and the roses had returned to her cheeks, he was in agony living in her presence, every day watching the way her body moved and smelling her scent and her hair. In his somewhat sweaty dreams she acquiesced — very happily — to his advances, and their physical union was as exciting and as satisfying as he’d always imagined it would be. But in the light of day he would never pressure, or even expect, her to sleep with him while they remained unmarried. Though she’d turned down his first proposal — admittedly made on the spur of the moment but heartfelt all the same — he understood why. She was still ill, and possibly she hadn’t quite forgiven him for what had happened after Rachel Winter died. But he was prepared to make many more proposals. As many as necessary, in fact, until she said yes.

  He opened the front door and was greeted by the smell of something very tasty cooking. A pie? He hoped so. He loved homemade pies, and Harrie was very good at them. Harrie herself was standing at the bench at the back of the room, sleeves rolled to her elbows, looking out the window, washing something in the basin. The table had been laid for supper; Angus was sitting on the end of it, his backside on the white tablecloth, cleaning his face with a paw.

  James dropped his bag and closed the door. Harrie turned, and saw him and Angus at the same time.

  ‘Shoo!’ she said, flicking water at the cat.

  Angus glanced at her, blinked slowly, then strolled across the table, hopped down onto a chair then the floor, and meandered across to James’s armchair, where he made himself comfortable.

  James stifled a sigh. Angus was moulting, and if he tried to unseat him, the cat would ensure — deliberately, he suspected — that he ended the manoeuvre covered in black and white fur. He removed his coat and took the other chair instead.

  ‘How was your day?’ he asked Harrie.

  She looked tired. Tired, distracted and apprehensive. She pulled a chair out from the table and sat down, facing him.

  Without preamble she said, ‘I have to tell you something.’

  By the time she’d finished, he was cursing himself for not noticing that she’d been even more distressed than usual over the past week or so, but most of all for not putting his foot down about her working in that damned tattoo shop. If he had, this couldn’t have happened. He felt sick with fury at the thought of Harrie being actually physically threatened and was appalled by the events she’d described. And also, to his regret, a bit disappointed, as he’d quite liked Leo Dundas.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me when it first started?’

  ‘Because you would have told me I couldn’t work for Leo any more.’

  ‘What difference would that have made? I made it clear I didn’t want you to work for him, and you did anyway.’

  Harrie looked down at her hands.

  ‘So what’s the real reason?’ he prompted.

  ‘I don’t know. I think … I think it didn’t really matter when it was just Leo and me. I don’t think I cared. But now he’s threatened Charlotte, and it does matter. He walked straight into the orphanage and managed to find out all about her.’ Harrie’s hands clenched. ‘What’s to stop him from doing that again and just walking out with her?’

  ‘Well, it damned well matters to me, you getting dragged into something as dangerous as this. This Jonah Leary sounds like a madman. And what’s Leo Dundas doing about it? It’s his fault you’re involved.’

  ‘It is not Leo’s fault. And he’s doing as much as he can to get rid of him. It was Leo who said I had to tell you.’

  Surprised, James looked at her. ‘Was it?’

  ‘He said you might be able to help.’

  Though his heart was beating wildly, James took a few moments to brush a clump of fur off his trousers. He had her now, if he wanted her. And he most certainly did. But would she hate him if he did it this way? He wanted her to give him her love freely, not to agree to marry him under duress. But what if she never did agree, and he missed out? Wouldn’t this way be better than not at all?

  He breathed in deeply through his mouth then exhaled through his nose in an inadequate attempt to calm his nerves. ‘I can help, Harrie. If you consent to marry me, I can adopt Charlotte. I’ll be her father. We’ll bring her here and she’ll be safe.’

  Harrie’s face lit up and just for a second all the long, long months of pain and fear and confusion fell away. Then she burst into tears. James hoped they were tears of happiness, but soon saw that they weren’t.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Her real father,’ Harrie sobbed, wiping tears off her cheeks with the heel of her palm. ‘Lucas Carew, I mean, on her birth certificate. How will we prove he’s dead?’

  James moved to stand behind her, and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, not daring to do more. ‘I’ll think of something. Don’t worry.’

  They stayed like that for a while.

  Eventually, Harrie said, ‘Yes. I will marry you,’ and lowered her head so her cheek rested on his hand.

  It was a start, James thought. It was enough.

  After Harrie had gone to bed, James sat down at the writing desk in his room and wrote a long letter to his late wife’s sister, Beatrice Penfold, who lived in London. He told Beatrice that he was marrying again, that his intended, Harrie, was a convict, and he thought Beatrice would like her. And that Emily would have, too. He also mentioned that he and Harrie were adopting a child, but he hoped there would be plenty of children of their own in time.

  He also asked an enormous favour of Beatrice. To help her accomplish what he wanted, he included in his letter a signed permission for Beatrice’s husband to access James’s account at the London branch of the Bank of England. He also suggested she contact his old navy friend Victor Handley, whom he knew would be more than capable of executing what could possibly be the less than savoury, perhaps even dangerous, aspects of the task.