by Amanda Quick
“He murdered Sarah in that bedchamber on their wedding night,” Caroline whispered.
Adam nodded. “According to the journal, he dressed the body and carried it into the park to be found the following day. None of the servants reported her missing the next morning because they all believed that, like any proper bride, she was so strongly affected by the traumatic events of her wedding night, she had slept late to recover. Later it was assumed that she had left the house unnoticed to take a walk.”
Julia tilted her head slightly to one side. “Reed was certainly not the most handsome or charming of men. I wonder why Toller and Delmont and the other mediums he employed were so eager to accept his advances?”
“There were certain decided advantages for any medium who formed a relationship with Durward Reed,” Elsworth said, very matter-of-fact. “While each was in favor, she reaped the benefits of the Society’s sponsorship, which, in turn, enhanced her own reputation and resulting income.”
“Yes, of course,” Milly murmured. “One can understand the motivation, I suppose.”
“It is a very competitive business,” Elsworth allowed. “Especially at the lower end.”
“But Irene Toller made the fatal mistake of falling in love with Reed,” Caroline said quietly. “When she discovered that he was preparing to leave her and move on to Elizabeth Delmont, she became distraught and enraged.”
“I expect the situation was especially painful to her because she had long viewed Delmont as a serious professional rival,” Emma observed. “Toller saw herself as a woman scorned.”
“She knew Wintersett House well, especially Sarah Reed’s bedchamber, having conducted her own final test séance there for Reed,” Adam continued. “She must have made her way upstairs one day without Reed’s knowledge and stolen the brooch and the wedding veil from the wardrobe.”
Caroline nodded. “She took them with her the night she murdered Elizabeth Delmont and left them at the scene. They obviously had significance to her because they had belonged to the dead woman with whom Reed was obsessed.”
“What about the pocket watch that was also found with Delmont’s body?” Julia asked. “The one that was reported in the papers?”
“It belonged to Elizabeth Delmont,” Adam said. “It had been a gift to her from Reed. Irene Toller must have known that and deliberately smashed it in her rage. I was the first one to arrive at Delmont’s house that night after the killer had left. When I found her, the veil, brooch and watch were all still there.”
“Reed was the second one to arrive,” Wilson said. “He was no doubt horrified to find his dead wife’s brooch and veil at the scene. He must have guessed immediately who had stolen them and murdered Delmont. He took the brooch and veil but he left the watch. It meant nothing to him.”
“I was the last to arrive,” Elsworth continued. “I called after returning from a long evening on the town. It was almost dawn.”
Milly looked curious. “Why on earth did you go to her house at such a late hour?”
“I had concluded that Delmont, having learned a few tricks from me, was preparing to set up her own financial scheme without my assistance. I wanted to make her think twice about such a move. My intention was to threaten to expose her if she tried to go into business on her own. When I got there, the door was open. I went inside and found the body.”
“And Maud’s diary,” Adam added.
Elsworth moved one hand in a what-do-you-expect? fashion. “I am not one to overlook an opportunity. But as I told you, when I read it I decided it was not the sort of project I wanted to pursue. Much too reckless.”
“By then it was too late, though, wasn’t it?” Milly said cheerfully. “You knew that Adam was already on your tail.”
Elsworth grimaced. “When I saw him together with Mrs. Fordyce after Irene Toller’s demonstration, I knew I confronted a disastrous situation. I did my best to redirect everyone’s attention and generally muddy the waters by giving the psychical consultation to the police. I was certain that the papers would make a great sensation of it. When I saw you in the audience that day, Mrs. Fordyce, I tried to warn you that there was danger afoot. I thought that might distract you and Hardesty both. When all failed to have an effect, I resorted to stronger tactics.”
“You paid two villains to attack Adam,” Caroline said with an accusing look.
“Yes, well, what can I say, madam? I was desperate.”
“Reed was even more desperate,” Adam said. “According to his journal, he had great hopes that Elizabeth Delmont would prove to be the medium who could make contact with his dead wife’s spirit. But before he could hold his final test séance with her in Sarah’s bedchamber, Toller murdered her. Then Toller sent him a message ordering him to come see her. He suspected that she intended to blackmail him by threatening to take the story of his bedchamber séances to the press.”
“So he killed her,” Julia concluded. “And made the murder scene appear just as it had been described in the newspapers, knowing that the press would seize on the similarities.”
Adam nodded. “After Delmont was killed, Reed concluded that Caroline’s recent association with Wintersett House was no mere coincidence. He believed that psychical forces had directed her to him so that he could use her to reach Sarah. Yesterday he lured Caroline into his trap.”
Emma frowned. “I don’t understand. Did he really expect to get away with kidnapping Caroline and using her in some dreadful séance? He must have known that you would investigate her disappearance, Adam.”
“When he was finished with Caroline, he intended to kill her in a manner similar to the other two murders,” Wilson said, his mouth tightening with quiet anger. “He planned to leave her body and another broken pocket watch in her own house with more evidence pointing to Adam.”
Julia shuddered. “The press would certainly have seized upon a story that involved a sensation novelist being murdered by her lover.”
Milly was aghast. “He actually expected such a scheme to work?”
Elsworth shook his head. “You do not understand how it is with those who are willing to suspend all logic and common sense in their desire to believe in the possibility of communicating with the Other Side. Trust me when I tell you that Reed was one of the most gullible people I have ever met.”
Caroline looked at him. “Were you the one who sent the messages to Adam and me summoning us to Toller’s house on the morning after she was murdered?”
“No.” Ellsworth raised both hands, palms out. “I plead innocent to that charge.”
“Reed sent them.” Adam closed the journal. “He also sent an anonymous message to the police and several members of the press. He wanted to create a sensation.”
“He no doubt hoped that you would be arrested,” Wilson said. “At the very least, you would be placed under a heavy cloud of suspicion and scandal. His primary goal was to drive a wedge between you and Caroline. He assumed she would be shocked and horrified when she discovered that you were linked to a murder. He thought she would turn her back on you to protect her own reputation.”
Adam smiled slowly and looked at Caroline. “Reed obviously had no psychical talent of his own. He failed to foresee that you would supply me with an alibi even though it meant that you would become more deeply entangled in a great scandal.”
Laughter lit her eyes for the first time since her ordeal at Wintersett House. “He obviously knew nothing about sensation novelists. We thrive on that sort of thing.”
FORTY-ONE
One month later . . .
“I say.” Wilson’s loud exclamation reverberated off the walls of the breakfast room. He slapped the copy of the Flying Intelligencer down onto the table. “This is indeed a very surprising turn of events.”
Adam scooped jam out of a pot. “It is too early in the day to be shouting. What is it that has alarmed you? Bad financial news?”
“Hang the financial news. This is a far more earthshaking matter.” Wilson stabbed at the new
spaper with a forefinger. “This is the last chapter of The Mysterious Gentleman. You will not credit it, but Edmund Drake has emerged as the hero.”
Adam felt something inside him go very still. Hope flared. He lowered the knife that he had been about to use to spread the jam on a slice of toast.
“I thought Drake was the villain of the piece,” he said carefully.
“So did I and everyone else who is following the story, I’ll wager.” Wilson reached for the coffee. “But there you have it. I just finished the last chapter in which Drake rescues Miss Lydia and unmasks that priggish Jonathan St. Claire.”
“The character everyone assumed was the hero?”
“Yes. Never did like him. Too well-mannered and so excruciatingly proper. Quite a boring chap, really. I should have realized that Caroline would never allow him to marry Miss Lydia. Drake was the right man all along.”
“Edmund Drake marries Miss Lydia?”
“Yes, indeed.” Wilson grunted. “All very exciting stuff. Can’t wait to hear what Julia has to say about it. I’m sure that all over London this morning readers are astonished and amazed. Once again the clever Mrs. Fordyce has thrilled us with a final, unexpected startling incident. The woman is brilliant, I tell you.”
Adam whipped his napkin off his lap and tossed it onto the table. “You must excuse me, sir.”
He got to his feet and headed toward the door.
“What’s this? Where the deuce are you going, Adam? You haven’t finished your breakfast.”
“My apologies, sir, but I must be off immediately. There is a matter of vital importance that cannot wait any longer.”
Wilson blinked owlishly and then the bewilderment cleared from his expression. Satisfaction replaced it.
He picked up the newspaper again. “Give my regards to Caroline.”
She was in her study, enjoying the warm sunlight that poured through the window and idly making some notes for her next story, when Adam walked into the room. She looked up, anticipation sleeting through her. Then she got a closer look at his expression. The smoldering heat in his eyes made her catch her breath.
“Adam? Is something wrong? You look a bit feverish.”
He came toward her with long, purposeful strides.
“You made Edmund Drake the hero of your story,” he said.
“Well, yes, I did. What of it?”
He halted in front of her desk, flattened his powerful hands on the surface and leaned forward. “Why did you do that?”
“I thought it made a rather exciting twist,” she said cautiously. “I must say, I’m surprised you know how The Mysterious Gentleman ended. I thought you stopped after reading that one chapter.”
“Wilson told me about your last startling incident.”
“I see. May I ask why the matter is of such concern to you? Given that you do not read that sort of novel, I mean?”
He straightened and moved around the desk before she realized his intent. Leaning down, he seized her shoulders, hauled her out of the chair and set her on her feet.
“Because it gives me hope that you might love me as much as I love you,” he said.
Wonder and joy flashed through her. “You love me?”
“Since the first moment I saw you here in this very room.”
“Oh, Adam, I do love you with all my heart.” She flung her arms around his neck.
“Now will you put me out of my misery and marry me?”
“Yes, of course. I have been hesitating only because I was afraid that it was your rules that obliged you to make the offer. I am well aware that your noble nature imposes a heavy sense of responsibility on you.”
“Caroline,” he said very evenly and with great force. “I love you more than words can say and I will love you for the rest of my life and beyond. Knowing that I have your love makes me the happiest man on earth. But I must tell you that there is nothing noble about my desire for you. I want you desperately. I would lie, cheat, steal or worse to get you.”
She laughed. “What is the matter, sir? Does it unnerve you to know that you are fashioned of heroic material?”
“Heroes are for novels.” He stroked her lower lip with the edge of his thumb. “I am a man. All I care about is that you love me the way a woman loves a man.”
“For the rest of my life and beyond,” she vowed.
He kissed her there in the golden sunlight, holding her so close and so tight that she forgot about all else.
It was the sound of familiar voices that brought her back to reality.
“Good day to you, Mr. Hardesty,” Emma said from the doorway. “It is rather early for this sort of thing, is it not?”
Adam raised his head. “Good day to you, madam. In answer to your question, no, it is not too early for this sort of thing. As it happens, I intend to marry Caroline and make it a regular practice to begin every day in a similar manner.”
“How romantic.” Milly hurried into the room with a tray and set it on a table. She picked up the pot and looked around expectantly. “Tea, anyone?”
“I think we could all use a cup,” Caroline said from the circle of Adam’s arms. “Adam was just attempting to convince me that he is not the heroic sort.”
“Nonsense.” Milly sat down and poured tea into four cups. “It is obvious that he is every inch the hero.”
“That was certainly my impression,” Emma said, taking a chair.
Adam assumed a deeply pained expression. “If we could change the subject, I would be extremely grateful.”
“As you wish,” Caroline said. “Actually, there was another topic that is of considerable interest to me. In fact, I was just making some notes for the first chapter of my new novel.”
“The one that involves psychical research?” Emma asked.
“Yes.” Caroline stepped back and moved to her desk. “I believe Adam will once again be my inspiration.”
Adam groaned. “Please, my dear—”
“Calm yourself, sir. It is not your heroic qualities that I intend to make use of this time.”
He looked wary. “My financial skills, perhaps?”
She sat down, picked up her pen and tapped the tip lightly against the blotter. “No. I was thinking of your psychical talents.”
He straightened abruptly. “My what?”
“I believe they are obvious.”
“Obvious to whom? What are you talking about?”
“Only consider the facts, sir.” She smiled reassuringly, pleased with her own logic. “At certain critical junctures in this affair, you acted on your intuition in ways that could very well be considered psychical.”
“Of all the nonsensical—”
Emma raised a finger. “I believe Caroline has a point, sir.”
“Indeed,” Milly agreed, nodding sagely.
“I defy you to name one example of my psychical abilities,” he growled.
“There was the manner in which you concluded that I was involved in this affair right at the start,” Caroline said. “Had you not reached that conclusion and come to see me the morning after Elizabeth Delmont’s murder, there is no telling what might have happened to me. As we now know, Reed had already begun to view me as a possible successor to Delmont.”
“Hold on, I had a perfectly logical reason for coming here that day,” Adam said. “Your name was on Delmont’s list of sitters.”
“And then there is the matter of that evening we spent together in that room in Stone Street,” she continued. “Had you not chosen that night to seduce me—”
“Damnation, Caroline.”
He gave Emma and Milly quick, appalled looks. They smiled back. Fiery heat burned on his high cheekbones.
“There are a few other things that strike me as excellent examples of your talents, sir, but the one that stands out the most is something you said the night you came here after your encounter with the ruffians Elsworth sent to attack you.”
He scowled. “I don’t recall saying anything that night that was of a psych
ical nature.”
“You read some lines that I had just written,” she said softly. “It was the scene in which Edmund Drake was about to ravish Miss Lydia. I told you that, in his great rage, Drake had lost control of his passions. You said that only a brute or a madman would use such an excuse to assault a woman.”
“What of it?”
“I had written myself into a corner with that scene and I knew it. After you left, I rewrote it. I could not change it entirely because the previous chapter had already gone off to Mr. Spraggett.” She paused for emphasis. “So I was obliged to come up with another reason for Drake’s behavior.”
Adam looked at her, uncomprehending.
“The poison,” Emma exclaimed.
“Yes, of course.” Milly was delighted. “I should have thought of that myself.”
“Thought of what?” Adam demanded.
She chuckled. “Because of your editorial comments, Mr. Hardesty, Caroline was obliged to come up with another explanation for Drake’s unchivalrous actions. Namely, poisoned cakes.”
“What in blazes does that have to do with any of this?” he asked blankly.
“That day when I found myself drinking the tea Reed had prepared for me, I sensed that something was wrong,” Caroline said quietly. “Because of that scene, it occurred to me that Reed had poisoned me. I stopped after only a couple of sips. That was enough to make me feel very odd for some time but at least I did not succumb entirely to the drug. I was able to run for my life when the opportunity arose.”
“Thus providing you, Mr. Hardesty, with the chance to kill Reed,” Emma concluded. “Who knows how it all would have ended if he had been able to take Caroline hostage?”
He folded his arms. “And because of that small coincidence, you decided that I might have some psychical abilities?”
“Psychical research is still in its earliest stages,” Caroline reminded him very seriously. “We know so little yet. Who is to say what will be discovered in the field?”