Reginald Faraday and the Séance Photograph

Reginald knelt beside the hearth and lifted the grate. A thick layer of ash coated the bottom. He brushed it aside. Whoever tried to burn the papers had pushed them deep into the old soot and struck a match, but walked away before the flame caught. The edges of the top sheet were crispy and curled up. The pages smelled of smoke but were otherwise unscathed.

He drew them out one by one. Some stuck together where the heat had softened the ink. They contained names, figures and dates scrawled with a hurried hand. The numbers on the last page had been scribbled through. 

The floorboards in the hallway creaked. Reginald stilled and listened. Someone paused outside the study door. He held his breath, waiting, but the figure moved on. He exhaled and stuffed the papers into his satchel. 

Voices drifted up from below, a lady laughing, glasses clinking. The party continued, unaware of his hand in their hidden matters.

Victorian London loved spiritualism.

Parlors grew warm from too many candles, and the air often carried the scent of smoke and perfume. Guests crowded around a small table, waiting for something odd to happen. The whole scene felt private in a way that polite society watched with suspicion.

For a politician’s fiancée, that privacy created trouble.

Eliza Dane lived under constant attention. Neighbors discussed her clothes, her routine, and the visitors who stepped through her doorway. A séance did not fit the image expected of her. These gatherings mixed people from every corner of the city and carried a reputation for tricks and unreliable photographs.

Newspapers jumped on stories like that. A single photo from a séance, with blurred shapes or streaks of light, could be turned into evidence that she showed poor judgment. Reporters would print it without hesitation. Political rivals would use it without a second thought. Accuracy did not matter. A striking story mattered.

Victorians also viewed spiritualism as a sign that someone lacked steadiness. Party officials wanted wives who avoided unpredictable rooms and unpredictable people. If Eliza attended a séance, they assumed she accepted ideas that did not match the household of a future member of Parliament.

The séance photograph is not only a piece of evidence. It threatens a career, a household, and the careful image Eliza works to protect.