He held up his hands. “I am not supposed to agitate you, so I shall not argue.”
“I am not certain whether to be delighted by this new power or dismayed.” Jane tucked the pillow more firmly beneath her head. “I shall choose delighted, and further declare that if you do not lie down and rest, I shall be quite agitated.”
“Now you are not playing fairly.”
“Indeed.” Jane beckoned him closer and took his hand. She gave a gentle pull, lifting her head. Vincent bent down to kiss her. When he was close, she gave her most inviting smile. “Just lie down for a little? I will feel better if you do. Besides, you will be able to feel the bearing pains when they occur.”
He kissed her again, on the forehead. “As you wish.”
Shedding his coat, he walked around to the other side of the bed. When he slid under the counterpane, Jane reached for his arm and pulled it around her. Vincent lay pressed against her back, but though he was quiet, she could tell by his breathing that he did not fall asleep.
Twenty-nine
Contraction and Agitation
Jane had a writing board propped upon her stomach, which was proving a remarkably useful surface. She wiped her pen off, studying the page, and then glanced across the room to where Dolly sat with Nkiruka. “Let me read this back to make certain I understood correctly.”
“You go ’head.”
“The Asante, in contrast to the Igbo, see glamour as divided into five parts. Two of these are easily explicable as a division of light into the visible spectrum, or krasodae hann, and krasodae esuma hann, which is all light outside the visible spectrum. Krasodae dede is what the British call ‘sound’ and krasodae huam is ‘scent.’ They have, in addition to these, a fifth form of glamour, which is tactile in nature. Though the effects are faint, they are nevertheless tangible.”
Jane sighed and scowled at the page, wishing once again that she could see the weaves. She thought, but was not certain, that krasodae ka was, in fact, a breeze that was woven with more precision than she was used to granting it. It was similar to other glamours in that it was largely an illusion, but Dolly could make it feel as though someone had tapped Jane lightly upon the shoulder. When Vincent was home next, she would have to put the question to him.
Dolly nodded. “That right.”
Jane gnawed on her lower lip. “Can you show the weaves in the visible spectrum, just so I might see? I should like to sketch them.”
“Sure.” Her nut-brown face wrinkled in concentration. “But a lot of it have to do with what part of the akoma so dae you take hold of.”
“Pardon? The akoma so dae? What is that?”
Dolly frowned, drumming her fingers on her knee. “Is … is the ether.”
Jane sat up, then reminded herself to lie against the pillows again. She sank back against the bed’s headboard. This was new, the idea that there was more than one part to the ether. “How many parts does the ether have?”
“T’ree.” Dolly held up her fingers and ticked off three different words. “Akoma so dae, adwene so dae, and asaase so dae.”
“Nkiruka. Does Igbo do this as well?”
Nkiruka looked frankly baffled. “No. Only one: mkp?r? obi ikuku—ether. How come you nuh say before?”
“Arwe nuh talk. Arwe jus’ do.” Dolly shrugged and sucked her teeth in amusement. “How you nuh say ah only one ether?”
She had a fair point. Jane paused before answering, and, in that pause, heard several horses coming up the drive. They were not expecting visitors today. Feeling very much like her mother, Jane asked, “Can you see who that is?”
Nkiruka stood and went out to the veranda, leaning on the rail to look towards the front of the house. She straightened quickly. “Ah de soldier an’ dem.”
Jane tightened her hands into fists. The unexpected arrival of soldiers never led to anything good. “Will one of you be so kind as to find Sir David at once? And Frank, as well.”
Brushing her hands off on her apron, Nkiruka headed for the door. “Mr. Frank done know. Mi sure smadee done tell he. Where Sir David?”
Jane reached for the itinerary Vincent had left for her. He had written one out every day for the past week so that if anything occurred, she could send for him quickly. “Two o’clock. He should be at the distillery.”
“I’ll tell Jove. He’ll go.” As Nkiruka opened the door, Jane could hear masculine voices from the front of the house. She could make out nothing of what was being said, save that the tone was demanding.