Mesmerist

by Pam McCutcheon

  Gina looked relieved. “Then you’ll speak to her today?”

  “Yes.” He rose, smiling. “That is, if you’ll ask her to come in?”

  “Sure.”

  Gina called her in then sat in the corner as Drake made sure Mrs. Rutledge was comfortable.

  The woman seemed more frightened than ever. Disturbed by this evidence that she might be sliding back into her earlier state of abjection, he asked, “How have things gone these past few days with your husband?”

  The blonde just shook her head and lifted her handkerchief-filled hand to her mouth. She was trembling badly, unable to speak.

  Drake felt so inadequate. There was so much he didn’t know, so much he didn’t understand. He hadn’t even known how much he was lacking until he’d listened to Gina talk about what was “commonly known” about mesmerism in her time—only she called it psychiatry. In the face of her knowledge, he felt like a caveman groping in the dark.

  But that wouldn’t stop him from using the knowledge he did have to help his patients. “It didn’t go well?” he ventured.

  Gina silently handed Mrs. Rutledge a glass of water, which seemed to help calm her. She took a sip, then gestured helplessly and set the glass down. “I—I don’t know what to do. Everything I do anymore makes him angry, especially if I stand up to him. I can’t seem to please him.” She looked up at Drake with a pleading expression, as if begging him to make it all better.

  Well, he only knew one way of doing that, but he needed to lead up to it gradually. “Did he hurt you again?” he asked gently.

  “No.” She sniffled. “But . . .”

  Since she seemed unable to finish the sentence, he completed it for her. “But you fear he will.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes again and she brought her handkerchief to her mouth. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m so frightened.”

  He glanced helplessly at Gina. He wanted to comfort the woman, but feared it was inappropriate in his professional capacity as a mesmerist. Thank heavens Gina understood his silent plea and dragged her chair over next to Mrs. Rutledge’s. She hugged her and patted the woman’s hand reassuringly, saying, “It’ll be all right. Just listen to Mr. Manton.”

  Mrs. Rutledge nodded silently and looked up at Drake as if he were the answer to her prayers. Well, he planned to be . . . if she would only listen.

  Taking a deep breath, he said, “I want to tell you a story.”

  She looked puzzled, but Drake continued anyway. “I had a sister, Charlotte. She was a lovely child, and so loving and giving that everyone adored her. So, when my parents received a very flattering offer for her hand that would help consolidate my father’s position in the banking world, they asked her to consider it, assuming the man would adore her as we did.”

  He paused, assessing her reaction. So far, nothing but polite interest, and perhaps a bit of confusion as to why he was telling this story. “She did consider it, and seeing the advantages to our family of marrying this man, who seemed handsome and kind, she did so.”

  He paused. The next part was far more painful. “But he wasn’t nearly as kind as he appeared. In private, he berated Charlotte, telling her she was worthless, denigrating everything she did, and destroying any sense of value she had.”

  Now Gina regarded him with concern, but he was determined to get this out. Staring earnestly at the trembling Mrs. Rutledge, he said, “Since no one else understood what was happening, she had no choice but to believe him. Finally, it was too much for Charlotte. . . .”

  He paused, unable to go on for a moment.

  “What happened?” the woman asked breathlessly.

  Drake took a deep breath and forced himself to finish. “She took her own life.”

  Mrs. Rutledge gasped and covered her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.

  Then, to make sure the point went home, Drake added, “I fear the same may happen to you if you don’t leave your husband.”

  She shook her head violently. “No, no, I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. I hope you’ll forgive me, but I took the liberty of contacting your family and informing them of your situation.”

  If possible, Mrs. Rutledge’s eyes widened even further. “You told them? Oh, no. How could you tell them of my shame?”

  Had she learned nothing? “It’s not your shame,” he said firmly. “It’s your husband’s.” He pulled a telegram from the desk and handed it to her. “Here’s their answer. Your parents want you to leave him and return home where they’ll take care of you. They’re prepared to help you sue for divorce or anything else it takes to get you away from this man.”

  Mrs. Rutledge buried her head in her hands and sobbed. Drake looked helplessly at Gina, uncertain if he’d done the right thing. Gina, whose arms were occupied with holding Mrs. Rutledge and offering her much-needed comfort, nodded reassuringly at him above the weeping woman’s head.

  Finally, Mrs. Rutledge’s sobs subsided and she wiped her eyes to read the telegram. When she finished, her lips trembled even more and she pressed the letter to her bosom, obviously too overcome with emotion to speak.

  “You see?” Drake said gently. “Your parents love you. The disgrace of a divorce means nothing to them, only your safety.”

  She nodded and it appeared her tears would brim over once more.

  “So you’ll do it?” he asked. “You’ll leave him?”

  She straightened in her chair and he could almost see her spine stiffen as she resolutely wiped away her tears. “Yes, I’ll leave him,” she said with determination.

  Good—her family’s promised support had given her the courage she needed to leave her abusive husband. “But . . . how?” she asked, looking uncertain again.

  “I’ll help,” Drake said reassuringly.

  “We’ll both help,” Gina added.

  For the first time, Drake saw a glimmer of hope in Mrs. Rutledge’s eyes and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he couldn’t disappoint her now.

  Though she seemed to draw strength from their assurances, Mrs. Rutledge glanced toward the door. “He’s just outside.”

  “We weren’t suggesting you leave now, “ Drake reassured her. “Do you think you could get away from him at some point in the next few days?”

  “I don’t know. He watches me so closely. I’d never be able to pack anything without him noticing and becoming suspicious.”

  “Then you mustn’t pack,” Drake said firmly. “Take only those things that are most important to you—give them to Gina to hold for you ahead of time if you must, but don’t pack a bag.”

  When she looked doubtful, he added, “What’s more important? A few items of clothing . . . or your life?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I see.” And her shoulders firmed and she even seemed to gain more confidence from somewhere deep within her. “Of course, you’re right.”

  “And don’t worry,” Gina added, patting her hand consolingly. “Drake will buy you whatever you need on your journey.”

  When that only served to make Mrs. Rutledge look more dubious, Drake added, “With a full accounting to your father, if you wish.”

  Mrs. Rutledge relaxed then, and with dawning hope, said, “But how shall we do this?”

  “Is there any time of the day or week when your husband regularly leaves you alone?”

  She paused to think. “Yes—he plays billiards every afternoon at four with his cronies. Since women aren’t allowed in the billiard room, I don’t go with him.”

  “Excellent. Shall we say day after tomorrow, then?” He wanted another day with his other patients so he didn’t leave them hanging, though none of them needed him as much as she did. He wouldn’t be able to tell them it was their last session for fear word would get back to Rutledge and make him suspicious, but he had to do what he could to tie up any loose ends.

  “Yes. Where?”

  “As soon as your husband leaves for his billiard game, meet me in the tower.” It wouldn’t be open for guests until the New Year. He paused, wo
ndering if she would change her mind as soon as she left. “Don’t leave any notes and don’t tell anyone else where you’re going or he might find out. You won’t fail me?”

  “No,” she said in a firm voice, and glanced down at the telegram. “I won’t fail you.” With trembling fingers, she held the piece of paper out to him. “Will you hold this for me? I—I don’t want Clyde to find it.”

  He took it from her. “Yes, of course. I’ll hold it for you until we meet at the tower.”

  Much more composed now, and seeming happier than he had ever seen her before, Mrs. Rutledge left the office.

  Drake, too, was finally content. Once he spirited her away to her family in Boston, he would have fulfilled his promise to Charlotte, and could regain some peace himself.

  The door closed behind the woman and Gina turned to him with a sigh. “That’s it, then. You’re really going to leave.”

  “Yes, I really am.”

  “It’s hard to believe. After so many months of hassling you, you’re finally going to do it.”

  He smiled. “You won’t know what to do with yourself once I’m not around to harass anymore.”

  She smiled back, an oddly wistful expression on her face. “Maybe. So, what are you going to do? Are you going to come back here once the danger is over?”

  He shook his head. The resort would always remind him of Gina, but it wouldn’t be the same without her. “No, I have been offered a position in Richmond. A progressive doctor there thinks I’ll make a good addition to his practice. I think I’ll take it.”

  Her eyes widened. “Richmond? Why, that’s ideal.”

  “Yes, since it lacks the transient nature of the resort, I’ll be able to help a lot more people there.”

  She smiled at him. “Good, I’m glad. You’ll do wonderfully.”

  Will I? How could he, without Gina beside him, to bully him, laugh with him, love him?

  He desperately wanted to ask her to come with him, but kept silent. She had made it very clear there was nothing for her here.

  Though he had hoped he would be enough. . . .

  Two days later, Gina waited for Drake at the tower with mixed emotions. She was glad he would finally be safe, but it also meant this was the last time she would see him.

  She touched the place over her heart where the locket lay. Since employees weren’t allowed to wear jewelry while on duty, she had kept it pinned to her undergarments ever since he had given it to her. This was all she would have left of him after today. This, and the small lock of hair inside.

  Drake arrived then, alone and with not even a bag in his hands. “Where’s your luggage?” she asked, alarmed. “Aren’t you going?”

  “Of course,” he soothed. “But I didn’t want to advertise that I was leaving, so I left my things in my room. I’ve paid up through the end of the week, so no one should bother them until then. Here.” He handed her a slip of paper. “After I see Mrs. Rutledge safely to her family, I’ll go on to Richmond to take up my new practice. Will you see that my trunk and bags are sent to this address?”

  “Of course.” It was the least she could do. She folded it carefully and put it in her pocket “So, what’s the plan?”

  “Sean Quinn has a buggy standing by, waiting to whisk us away to the Hope Springs station so we can avoid the curious eyes at The Chesterfield’s spur. We’ll catch the first train heading north, then make our way to Boston.”

  She nodded. Now, all that was left was figuring out how to say good-bye. And it was best to do it now, in the tower and away from prying eyes. “Drake, I—”

  She broke off, not knowing how to let him go gracefully, without tears.

  Well, it wasn’t going to happen. She felt the telltale pricking behind her eyelids and knew her eyes were filling with moisture. Grasping his lapel, she smiled tremulously up at him and blinked away the tears. “I—I’m going to miss you.”

  How inadequate. It didn’t begin to describe the feeling of loss and desolation she experienced at the thought of never seeing him again. Nor did it convey the love she knew would never fade.

  He smiled sadly down at her and wiped away one of her tears. “Don’t cry,” he murmured. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

  “It is,” she managed to choke out. No, that was a lie. She wanted to scream for him to stay, or to take her with him, but kept silent. He had to go, and if he had wanted her with him, he would have asked her by now. Begging him to take her would only make her look foolish . . . and embarrass him.

  But she couldn’t let him go without one last kiss. Stretching to her full height, she twined her arms around his neck and brought his face down to hers. Their lips met and fused in a moment of sheer longing and stark need. She put her entire being into that kiss, to create a memory that would have to last for the rest of her life.

  Drake matched her intensity, as if he, too, felt the same. But as much as she wanted to pretend he loved her, she knew it wasn’t true. It was lust he felt, not love.

  And if she wasn’t careful, this kiss would escalate out of control very soon, and Annabelle was likely to show up to find them tearing each other’s clothes off.

  Where was Annabelle, anyway? Gina pulled away reluctantly and asked, “What time is it?”

  Drake checked his pocket watch. “It’s after four-thirty.”

  She frowned. “Shouldn’t she be here by now?”

  “Yes, but she might have had a little trouble getting away, or needed time to pack the few things she plans to take with her.”

  Gina fumed. After all they’d done for the woman, after all the risks Drake was taking to save her life, she could at least be on time. Unless there was another reason. . . . “Or she got cold feet, and decided to stay with that idiot husband of hers.”

  Drake frowned. “I hope not.”

  “I’ll just go check on her, then.”

  “No.” Drake stayed her with a hand on her arm. “That’s not a good idea. What if Rutledge or someone else sees you? He might suspect something.”

  “What do you want to do then? Just wait? If she hasn’t shown up by now, she isn’t going to. She probably chickened out.”

  “No, I—” Drake broke off as Rupert stuck his head around the corner.

  “Mr. Manton? Mrs. Rutledge gave me this for you.” Rupert handed him a folded note, then went off with a jaunty salute after Drake tipped him.

  “What does it say?” Gina asked impatiently as Drake read the note.

  He sighed. “She isn’t coming.”

  “Hell, I figured that out. Why not?”

  “She says she must have done something to make Rutledge suspect her. He didn’t go to his billiard game today and seems reluctant to leave her alone.”

  “Yeah, he suspects something all right. And we’ll probably never pry her loose now.” Gina nodded decisively. “That settles it—you’ll just have to leave without her.”

  “What?” Drake stared at her incredulously. “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Sure you can. Look, you’ve done every possible thing you could to help her, so it’s time to cut your losses.”

  “I haven’t done everything,” he reminded her. “I still haven’t helped her with the one thing she needs most—escape from her husband.”

  “But you have everything arranged—the buggy, the train, your luggage. It would be a shame not to take advantage of it.” Seeing he was about to protest again, she added, “Besides, I’ll follow up with Annabelle.”

  “What do you mean, follow up?”

  “I’ll follow up to make sure she gets out of here.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “You don’t think I will, do you?” And it really ticked her off. “Look, I don’t want to see her hurt any more than you do. And it doesn’t take a mesmerist to get her to a train. Anyone could do that.”

  “I didn’t doubt your veracity,” Drake protested. “But I don’t think that would work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she is th
e sort of woman who needs a man to lean on—”

  “And why does it have to be you?” Gina spat out, jealousy running rampant through her. Was the article turning out to be true after all? Was Drake coming to care for the clinging vine?

  “Because I’m the only one who knows her predicament and is willing to help her,” Drake explained patiently. “She needs someone to bolster her courage the entire trip, or she’s liable to give up and go running back to Clyde at the first sign of a problem. You can’t help her with that—you have to stay here.” He sighed, adding, “She’s not strong like you, Gina. She needs constant reassurance that she’s doing the right thing.”

  Well, strength was overrated if it felt like this. For a brief moment, Gina wondered if playing the clinging vine would make Drake want her to stay around, but discarded the idea immediately. He would never buy it, and she would never be able to sustain the act for long. She stared up at him with a belligerent expression, wondering what she could do to convince him to leave now. Besides, she didn’t think she could say good-bye again.

  “It isn’t going to work,” Drake said softly.

  “What isn’t?”

  “Whatever you’re planning in that busy little brain of yours—it isn’t going to work. For Charlotte’s sake, and Mrs. Rutledge’s, I’m going to see her out of here if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “And it just might be, if you’re not careful,” Gina snapped.

  And she didn’t care what he said. She was going to make sure he got out of here—no matter what she had to do to make it happen.

  Chapter 19

  Gina fretted as another ten days passed with agonizing slowness. Clyde had become very suspicious and the only time he left Annabelle alone now was in her sessions with Drake. So, rather than set a specific time to steal away, they had agreed to have Annabelle escape whenever possible and send word to Drake to meet her at the tower.

  It was now December 21, and Gina was beginning to panic. Would he ever get away? She glanced at the office door behind her in exasperation. How could he sit there calmly and see patient after patient when he knew he was destined to die in this hotel tomorrow?