Quicksilver

by Amanda Quick

  Pamela had waited until Owen had left Virginia’s side to collect two glasses of champagne before gliding through the crowd with the speed of a shark knifing through the sea.

  She was a friend and former mentor who had offered kindness, support and excellent business advice when Virginia had embarked upon her own career as a practitioner. Virginia was very fond of her, but Pamela was a notorious gossip who prided herself on knowing the latest rumors and scandals.

  “Speaking of Leybrook,” Pamela said, “I have heard that the relationship with his latest assistant has already begun to fray.”

  “That didn’t last long,” Virginia said.

  “His assistants never do.” Pamela swallowed some champagne and lowered the glass. “I suspect the charming Adriana has begun making demands.”

  “Leybrook changes assistants almost as often as he does his socks. Adriana must have known that when she accepted the position. It is no secret.”

  “True, but you know how it is. Each new assistant thinks that she will be the last.” Pamela’s mouth twisted in disdain. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that Leybrook actually does have some talent: namely, a paranormal skill for seduction. What’s more, he can work his charms on men as well as women. Just look at the way people are flocking to get closer to the Presence tonight. Our guest of honor has been all but forgotten. Poor D. D. Pinkerton is stuck in the corner with Edward Drummer, who is surely boring him to tears. I see Mr. Welch is making his way over there to rescue Pinkerton.”

  “It’s not necessary to resort to a paranormal explanation for Leybrook’s remarkable powers of attraction,” Virginia said. “He is handsome, and he is exceedingly clever. One must give credit where credit is due. He’s a brilliantly successful practitioner who draws sell-out crowds wherever he goes.”

  From the moment of his fashionably late arrival that evening with his beautiful assistant on his arm, Gilmore Leybrook had been the star attraction. There was no question that he outshone the guest of honor.

  Leybrook was holding court in the center of the room. He was tall, with chiseled features and a graceful, athletic build that was enhanced by his elegantly tailored evening clothes. His dark hair was cut in the latest fashion. No one knew where he had come from, but he had the manners and the accents of an educated gentleman.

  Of course, Virginia thought, a good actor could mimic the attributes of the upper classes. Leybrook would not have been the first person of lowly birth to descend on the London scene and convince everyone that he had been born and raised in exclusive circles.

  His assistant, Adriana Walters, looked as spectacular as ever tonight, but something in the atmosphere around her made it plain that she was not pleased. Her smile was tight, and her beautiful face looked as if it had been carved in stone. Evidently sensing she was being watched, she turned her head and looked straight at Virginia. There was so much rage in her eyes that for a few seconds Virginia could have sworn that she felt unwholesome energy shiver in the atmosphere.

  “Oh, dear,” Pamela murmured. “I know that expression on her face, and it doesn’t bode well.”

  “You don’t really think—”

  “That the lovely Adriana is looking at you with murder in her eyes because she has reason to believe Leybrook is going to replace her with you? Yes, that is exactly what I think.”

  “Ridiculous. Why would Leybrook want me as an assistant? It’s obvious that I lack all of the physical attributes he requires. My bosom is much too small, and my hair is too red.”

  Pamela assumed an air of ominous portent. Her voice dropped to a lower, huskier register. “The princess tells me that he has altered his requirements,” she intoned.

  Virginia ignored the theatrics. “Why would he do that?”

  “I have no idea,” Pamela said, her voice returning to normal. “At least you’ve been given some warning. And I’ll add another word of caution.”

  “What?”

  “I wouldn’t accept any invitations to tea with Adriana. She’s the type to dump a spoonful of cyanide into the cup.”

  Virginia smiled. “I’ll bear that in mind, although I think it is highly unlikely that she will invite me to tea.”

  “In that case, let us turn to a far more interesting subject.”

  Virginia braced herself. “That would be?”

  “Your association with Mr. Sweetwater, of course.”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the news by now, Pamela.”

  “Oh, yes, it’s all over the Institute.” Pamela gave her a sidelong glance. “But is it true?”

  “I have agreed to allow Mr. Sweetwater to study me while I employ my talents. He is convinced that he can measure my psychical energy patterns.”

  “You know what he did to Digby and Hobbes. After he exposed them as frauds, Leybrook was forced to release them from the Institute because of the bad publicity. Doesn’t it concern you that you may be next? How can you prove that you have a true talent?”

  “He claims to believe that I do have talent.”

  “I see.” A glint appeared in Pamela’s eyes. “That may explain the other talk that is going around.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Pamela gave her a knowing smile. “Rumor has it that your connection with Mr. Sweetwater extends beyond the boundaries of scientific research and experimentation.”

  You knew this was coming, Virginia thought. Nevertheless, she had not been expecting such a blunt approach. She ought to have known better, she thought. This was Pamela, after all, who had gone through almost as many lovers as Leybrook.

  “Good heavens, wherever did you get that notion?” she managed lightly.

  “Virginia, you are talking to me, not one of your clients. There is no point trying to finesse the situation. I know you too well.”

  “I would rather not discuss my relationship with Mr. Sweetwater,” Virginia said quietly.

  “You are a grown woman, no longer a young, green girl trying to establish her career. I respect that. But I am well aware that you have not had much experience with men.”

  “I have had any number of male clients.”

  “I meant experience of a personal nature, and well you know it,” Pamela snapped. “Mind you, if you had chosen almost any other man for this sort of adventure, I would have been thrilled for you. Every woman deserves the opportunity to discover romantic passion. But why the devil did you decide to embark on an affair with Owen Sweetwater?”

  “For heaven’s sake, Pamela, will you please lower your voice?”

  “No one could be more unsuitable for you. He might even decide to damage your career when your affair ends. You have worked hard to establish yourself. I do not want to see you throw away your future.”

  “I don’t think Mr. Sweetwater will pronounce me a fraud,” Virginia said.

  She broke off when she sensed a presence behind her.

  “Rest assured, that will not happen,” Owen said, his voice very dry.

  Pamela gasped and swung around so sharply that a few drops of champagne flew out of the glass in her hand. “Mr. Sweetwater. I didn’t realize you were in the vicinity.”

  Virginia turned more slowly. Owen held two glasses of champagne in his hands. He was smiling his coldest smile. His excellently cut black-and-white evening clothes underscored the aura of raw power that always charged the air around him.

  “Allow me to introduce a friend,” Virginia said, laying subtle emphasis on the word “friend” so that Owen would understand that he was not allowed to be rude to Pamela. “Miss Egan is a highly regarded practitioner. She was very kind to me at the beginning of my career. Indeed, I owe much of my success to her advice and the introductions she was good enough to provide.”

  Amusement replaced the ice in Owen’s eyes. His smile warmed several degrees. He inclined his head in a formal manner toward Pamela.

  “In that case, it is a pleasure, Miss Egan,” he said.

  Pamela recovered her composure, but Virginia could have sworn that sh
e blushed. “Mr. Sweetwater. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

  “None of it good, I’m sure.” He handed one of the glasses to Virginia. “But believe me when I say that I have no reason to declare Miss Dean a charlatan.” He took a swallow of champagne and gave Virginia an intimate smile. “In fact, I find her talents extraordinary.”

  “Will you be giving that information to the press at the conclusion of your study of her powers?” Pamela asked. “It might do wonders for her career.”

  Owen turned back to her, brows slightly elevated.

  “I will be happy to inform the press that Miss Dean possesses genuine psychical abilities, but I doubt that she needs my acclaim. She seems to be doing very well on her own.”

  Pamela gave him a steel-bright smile. “There is no such thing as too much positive publicity in our business, Mr. Sweetwater. It seems to me that a few good words to the press is the least you can do for Miss Dean under the circumstances.”

  “Circumstances?” Owen repeated, somewhat ominously.

  “I refer, of course, to the fact that you are taking advantage of Miss Dean’s generous nature in order to pursue your research project,” Pamela said coolly. “She is doing you an enormous favor, is she not, Mr. Sweetwater?”

  Virginia winced. “It’s all right, Pamela, I assure you.”

  Owen slanted a long look at Virginia. “Yes, Miss Egan, she is doing me a great favor.”

  “Then it is only right that you repay her when you end the project,” Pamela said. “The most helpful way you could do that is by ensuring that she receives some attractive publicity that might send some new clients her way.”

  “I see,” Owen said.

  “After all, it is not as if you have anything else of lasting value to offer her, is it?” Pamela said very pointedly.

  “Pamela, please,” Virginia pleaded. “That’s enough.”

  “Quite right.” Pamela smiled at Virginia. “Enjoy the rest of the evening, my dear, and don’t forget the warning from the princess.”

  “I won’t.”

  Pamela whisked up her green skirts and swept off into the crowd.

  Owen watched her leave. “What was that about a warning from the princess?”

  “Nothing important. I wonder how Charlotte and Nick are making out. I have lost sight of them. Oh, damn.”

  “Now what?”

  “Gilmore Leybrook and his assistant are coming this way. Well, I suppose it was inevitable.”

  Owen followed her gaze, suddenly very focused. The atmosphere around him became more highly charged.

  “This should be interesting,” he said.

  TWENTY-SIX

  This isn’t working,” Nick said.

  Charlotte had been about to take a sip of champagne. She paused and peered at him, squinting a little because she had stored her spectacles in the dainty beaded bag that dangled from the waist of her gown. For reasons she was not certain she wished to explore, she had concluded that afternoon that she wanted to look her best tonight. According to the fashion journals, spectacles were not the most attractive evening accessory.

  The unfortunate result of her fashion choice was that the reception hall below the small balcony where she and Nick stood was a colorful blur. But this close up she could make out Nick quite plainly. He looked very fine in his evening clothes, she thought. True, she’d had to put her spectacles on in the carriage long enough to make some small adjustments to his appearance. But it had taken only a few minutes to redo the sad knot in his black tie. When she had mentioned, quite discreetly, that the buttons of his satin waistcoat had been fastened in the wrong order, he had immediately rectified the problem.

  “What isn’t working?” she asked.

  “Owen’s plan,” Nick said. He sounded baffled. “I don’t understand. When it comes to this sort of thing, my cousin’s schemes invariably work quite well. But this one has certainly come a cropper.”

  He contemplated the scene below as though it was a perplexing puzzle. Although Charlotte could not make out details, she knew that the balcony, originally designed to conceal the musicians at a formal ball, gave Nick a panoramic view of the hall.

  “I was under the impression that your task was to look for the subtle signs that might indicate that someone in the room had developed a pronounced or obsessive interest in Virginia,” Charlotte said. “Really, sir, how difficult is that? You’re supposed to have a talent for observing small particulars.”

  “Quite difficult, as it happens, because a number of people in the room appear to have a great interest in Miss Dean. The only people who have not been casting veiled glances at her and my cousin are the servants. There is a great deal of speculation going on down there.”

  “Speculation about her association with Mr. Sweetwater, yes, I warned Virginia about that. I knew everyone would assume the worst.”

  “Damnation. Surely they don’t suspect that she is helping Owen investigate the murders?”

  “No, of course not. It is much worse than that. They think she is involved in an illicit liaison with him.”

  “Is that all?” Nick looked considerably relieved. “No need to worry, then. I don’t see why that sort of gossip should cause Owen any problems. For a moment there, you had me concerned that perhaps his plan was falling apart.”

  Charlotte gave him a long look.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Nick asked.

  “We are speaking of the reputation of my dearest friend. Do try not to sound so cavalier, sir.”

  “I fail to understand how conducting a liaison with Owen would damage Miss Dean’s reputation. She is not an eighteen-year-old girl whose family is out to broker a social marriage.”

  Charlotte said nothing. She just looked at him again.

  Sensing that he was on dangerous ground, Nick cleared his throat.

  “Miss Dean is obviously a woman of the world,” he said, somewhat weakly.

  “As am I,” Charlotte said. “Are you always this thickheaded, sir?”

  He sighed. “When it comes to the nuances of matters such as this, I’m afraid so.”

  “It was quite rude of you to call attention to the fact that Virginia and I are women of a certain age.”

  “I never meant to imply that either of you is in your dotage,” Nick said hastily. “Merely mature.”

  “Thank you,” Charlotte said. “Allow me to explain the crux of the problem here, sir. While it is true that at her age Virginia is free to indulge in a discreet romantic affair, the difficulty in this instance is that the man everyone thinks she is having that affair with is your cousin.”

  Nick went blank. “What of it?”

  “In case you have not noticed, no one in this hall tonight trusts Owen Sweetwater.”

  “I see.” Nick looked as if he was beginning to comprehend the situation.

  “Thanks to his recent hobby of exposing Leybrook practitioners in the press, those connected to the Institute now consider him a serious threat to everyone’s career.”

  “I see,” Nick said again.

  “It was one thing for people to believe that Virginia was allowing him to study her powers. But now the rumors are going around that she is conducting an affair with him. They will no longer trust her not to betray their secrets to a lover. I fear that when Mr. Sweetwater concludes his investigation, she will no longer be welcome here at the Institute.”

  “Huh.” Nick gave that some thought. “Perhaps she should consider joining Arcane. Come to think of it, both of you ought to join.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, sir. Arcane has never welcomed those of us who must make a living with our talents.”

  “They say that the Society is changing rapidly now that Gabriel Jones has assumed the responsibilities of the Master’s Chair.”

  “It remains to be seen if Mr. Jones can reinvent Arcane,” Charlotte said. “Even if that is possible, Virginia and I will still be obliged to work for a living. For all practical purposes, that means maintaining an affiliation with t
he Leybrook Institute. It is not her personal reputation that Virginia is putting in jeopardy by associating intimately with Mr. Sweetwater; it is her career, indeed, her entire future.”

  “I see,” Nick said for the third time. He contemplated the scene below. “I’m afraid the damage in that regard, whatever it proves to be, may have already been done.”

  Alarmed, Charlotte plucked her spectacles out of her evening bag and pushed them onto her nose. She studied Virginia and Owen. It did not require any degree of paranormal intuition to sense the energy around the pair. Owen stood a little too close to Virginia, just inside the invisible sphere of personal space that a lady always kept in place around her person. There was something both proprietary and protective about his stance. It was as if he were sending a silent message to every other man in the hall, putting them all on notice of his claim on Virginia.

  Virginia was in love, whether she knew it or not.

  “Damn him,” she whispered. She gripped the railing with her gloved fingers. “How dare he do this to my friend?”

  Nick went still beside her. She knew that he was looking at her, not at the crowd down below.

  “Miss Tate, do try to remember that my cousin established an association with your friend for the sole purpose of discovering the identity of a killer who may well intend to murder her,” he said softly. “Owen is attempting to protect Virginia.”

  Charlotte pulled herself together with an effort of will. “Yes, of course. Forgive me. Sometimes my imagination runs away with my common sense. It may be that I have spent too much time studying the unique properties of the strong energy that is generated between two individuals of talent who are physically attracted to each other.”