"Science would be more likely to be believed, I think, although claiming it to be science to other scientists might require explaining the entire procedure--difficult at best, dangerous at worst." 

"Scientists are a curious lot. Someone would look deeper, or try to translate the chant if we tried to spread this... Although plenty of business moguls refuse to explain anything at all about their processes, if we want to claim a more secret science."

"--If I had actually discovered a purely medical way to revive the recently deceased I would spread the knowledge as far and wide as I could and Eliza's death would not change that about me."

He nods. "It might be best to delay, however, a full resurrection campaign, until such a time as we can address questions of integration and where people would live. What excuse would people reach for, were their Eliza miraculously returned?"

"I don't know what they would naively reach for but we could sell the idea that she faked her death because she believed her mother was going to do something drastic to prevent the marriage if we revealed the fact that her mother had been poisoning her for her entire childhood in order to keep her closer." 

"She might have ideas of her own, besides, or a preference for a clean slate away from her family. However, should she wish to stay, that does seem like the excuse least likely to be questioned."

Nod. "--Staying in frequent communication with the rest of you and retaining access to the catacombs do seem likely to be a priority." 

"That seems likely, yes. And you're a valuable member of our team."

"I should hope so, as much money as you spent on my education." 

"You do take after me."

"And we're all better off for it. Nothing against Father, but," shrug. 

"A rather prosaic man, all things considered. Not a bad thing to be in and of itself, however..."

"Not very useful here and now." 

She nods. "Especially when his return would be rather more awkward than any other we have tried to explain."

"I do love him, but he'll keep." 

"My sentiment, effectively."

Though she's more 'vaguely fond' than 'love.'

Well, it's 1928. Not everyone can be fortunate enough to find a spouse they truly love, not when staying unmarried is such a non-option for young women. 

During the interval of Amity's vampirism, Joseph determines that while his University's library does not contain the volumes they seek, his professors are willing to write him letters of recommendation to the custodians of other libraries that do. He makes other, discreter inquiries into more straightforwardly occult and fabulously esoteric tomes, discovers which libraries have them, and begins fabricating excuses to inquire into those who have perused them. 

And when the day that Amity no longer requires his blood arrives, they can finally, finally bring her back. 

The procedure has been edited slightly from Amity's, his ancestress's own expertise having gone into the refinement of the distillation procedure. The powder produced at the end is a stunningly saturated ultramarine, and he feels lightheaded as he speaks the words that will restore his beloved to the world. 

There was a man with a gun. 

It had been late and she had ventured out of her room into the parlor only because her parents had left the house, and there was the sound of breaking glass and she turned around and there was a man with a gun who looked as surprised to see her as she was to see him and he had pointed it at her and she had screamed--

--the latter half of the scream escapes her as the world refocuses somehow, and she doesn't know what's going on but she hits the floor to be a harder target to hit but--this isn't the carpeted parlor floor, this is bare stone and she's naked, what--

He immediately falls to his knees at her side, wrapping her with the blanket he had procured for this purpose and holding her tight. "Eliza," he breathes. 

"--Joseph? What's going on?"

"You--you died." 

"I--oh." She thinks about the man with the gun, pointed right at her head, and shivers. Then-- "Joseph, if you killed yourself when you found out, I will be very cross." 

"No. No, my love, all is well, you're alright, I'm alright, everything's alright." 

"Good." She looks up, sees the other inhabitants of the room--recognizes Mrs. Ward immediately of course, makes some conjecture--

She wraps the blanket more tightly around herself and tucks a corner into the edge under her armpits, then takes Joseph's hand and leads him to a standing position and curtsies. "Hiram Curwen, I presume. And--I'm less confident, are you Amity?" 

"Yes. It is good to see you restored."