And, surprisingly, she was totally unimpressed by Jumbo, introduced by the ringmaster as “The Towering Monarch of His Mighty Race, Whose Like the World Will Never See Again.” Though the rest of the audience oohed and aahed over the elephant’s dimensions, Gina watched indifferently as the huge pachyderm paraded around the ring.
Once it was over and the other spectators filed out, Drake remained seated, hoping to avoid the crush. “Did you enjoy the spectacle?”
“Yes. For the limitations of these times, it was great.”
“These times?” What did she mean by that?
“Never mind—the question is, did you enjoy it?”
Surprisingly, he had. “Yes,” he admitted, though his enjoyment came more from Gina’s reactions to the circus acts.
“Good.” She smiled. “And what did you learn from it?”
Was he supposed to have learned something? “Not to put your head in a lion’s mouth?” he ventured.
She stared at him, mouth agape. “You made a joke,” she said in awe.
“It has been done before.” And surely it was a very small jest, hardly worth her reaction.
“Well, sure, but not by you. I was beginning to wonder if you had a sense of humor.”
“Of course I do,” he said indignantly. In fact, he had once been considered quite the wit, but since Charlotte’s death, he had found little amusing. Changing the subject, he asked, “What lesson was I supposed to learn?”
“The value of a sweeping gesture, the suspense of a dramatic pause, the atmosphere of wonder created by grandiose language.”
He frowned. “Didn’t you find it a trifle overdone?”
“Well, maybe a little. But did you see any bored faces in this audience?”
No, he had to admit everyone’s attention was riveted on the performers in the ring, exactly where the ringmaster had directed them. “I see what you mean, but—”
“By using the same techniques, you can get the audiences at your lectures just as interested.”
“You flatter me,” he said, knowing he couldn’t possibly emulate a circus performer.
“No, I don’t. Trust me, you’ll be great once I’m done with you. You have terrific stage presence.”
On the contrary, he would look the fool. “I’m sorry, Miss Charles,” he said with real regret, “but I’m afraid I will be unable to keep my part of our agreement.”
Her face fell. “But—”
“No,” he said firmly. He regretted that he must be the one to wipe away all her enthusiasm and joy, but he must be adamant. “It would undermine everything I believe in. I cannot and will not emulate a circus performer.”
A week later, Gina had still not convinced Drake to change his mind. Unfortunately, the man was very stubborn, but if he thought he could out-stubborn her, he’d better think again. She was going to bug the hell out of him until he capitulated.
She approached Dr. Ziegler’s office promptly at 3:30. Drake had very kindly set aside this time every day since the circus for her to present her arguments to try to change his mind. He pretended it was out of a sense of fair play and to have some time free from the matchmaking mamas, but she suspected he enjoyed their battle of wits as much as she did.
Speak of the devils . . . There they were, sans chicks. Gina nodded at the two women and tried to breeze past them, but for once, they worked as one and blocked her way.
“Why if it isn’t little Gina,” Mrs. Harrington said nastily, though Gina towered over her.
The woman pretended to be a sweet southern belle, but Gina saw right through her. In fact, both of these women had tried to make her life miserable this past week once word had got around that Drake had escorted her to the circus. But since they were guests, she had to be polite. “Excuse me, please,” Gina said. “I have an appointment with Mr. Manton.”
She stepped around the plump woman, but Mrs. Biddle blocked her way. Glaring down her thin nose at Gina, Mrs. Biddle said, “Really, Miss Charles, I don’t think it’s quite the thing for you to thrust yourself upon Mr. Manton’s notice like this. You are earning a reputation for yourself.”
Gina bristled. “Me?” Mrs. Biddle made her sound like she slept around. Well, since they’d removed their gloves, so to speak, Gina had no compunction in returning the favor. “Would you care to hear what sort of reputation you two are earning in this hotel?”
Mrs. Biddle scowled. “Our conduct is above reproach—”
“Yeah, right. If you call throwing your daughters at a poor, unsuspecting bachelor above reproach.”
Mrs. Harrington’s eyes flashed with malice. “I believe you have mistaken the matter, dear,” she said in her sugary tones. “Which is understandable, given your background. A lady would understand.”
Gina snorted derisively. “Oh, I understand how the game is played, all right. The first one to nab a husband, wins, right? Well, for your information, I’m not in the market for a husband.”
The two exchanged puzzled glances. “Then why are you pursuing him?” Mrs. Biddle asked.
Pursuing him? “Did it ever occur to you that I might actually be seeking his help?”
“No,” they said in unison.
Well, true, she wasn’t, but they didn’t know that. Thoroughly ticked off now, Gina popped off with the first thing that came into her mind. “Well, you’re right. I don’t want to marry him—I just want to seduce him.”
They gasped in unison.
Pleased by their shocked reactions, Gina added, “Then once I’m done with him, I’ll just throw him away.” She added a contemptuous tossing gesture for good measure.
Mrs. Harrington sputtered. “Really, this is too—”
“Ridiculous,” supplied a deep voice from the door. Drake stood there, regarding them all with a grave expression, though Gina thought she saw a bit of a twitch at the corner of his mouth.
The two women quickly wiped the condescending expressions from their faces and turned fake smiles on him. But before they could say anything else, Drake said, “Miss Charles is merely having a bit of fun with you.”
The women cast doubtful glances at Gina, but she just rolled her eyes, refusing to confirm or deny his statement. And, to tell the truth, she felt a little embarrassed that he’d caught her at it. Thank heavens he seemed to understand she was kidding.
Drake continued. “In fact, that’s why I’m seeing Miss Charles—for a disturbing tendency toward levity in inappropriate circumstances.”
Gina challenged him with her eyes, but he wouldn’t look at her.
“I see,” Mrs. Harrington said, but her glance at Gina showed she wasn’t quite sure whether to believe it.
Drake opened the door invitingly. “I believe it’s time for our appointment?”
Gina swept past the two women and couldn’t help but cast them a smug glance as the door closed in their faces.
“So,” Drake said with a small smile, “have you come to ravish me?”
Gina felt her face heat, but she wasn’t willing to give him the upper hand by going on the defensive. “You never know,” she said flippantly, and was rewarded with his surprised expression. “Maybe later. But first, I want to talk to you.”
They seated themselves, and Drake leaned back in his chair to regard her quizzically. “I’m afraid your arguments today won’t sway me any more than your earlier ones.”
“Why not?”
“I explained this before—what you’re asking me to do is simply not within my character. I cannot pose as a circus performer.”
“You haven’t even tried,” she accused him.
“I don’t need to try to know it is beyond me.”
Well, this was getting her nowhere. Exasperated, Gina exclaimed, “I don’t know why you want to help people, anyway. You’re not suited for it at all.”
“What do you mean?”
Since nothing else seemed to work, she decided to be blunt. “To help people, you have to understand them. You don’t.”
He frowned. “Whil
e it’s true my understanding is not yet complete, I have been studying—”
“That’s not enough. You have to get inside their heads, figure out what makes them tick.”
“I know that, but how will acting the clown help me gain a better understanding of people?”
She sighed. “You make it sound like I want you to treat your patients by wearing a red rubber nose and squirting water down your pants.”
“Don’t you?”
“No, not at all. But in order to get patients into your office in the first place, you have to get their attention. You aren’t going to do that with boring lectures. That’s why I want you to borrow a few tricks from the circus—but from the ringmaster, not the clowns.” Besides the added fact that if Drake put on a good enough show, Mr. Suggs would book him on the lecture circuit far from the fate that awaited him here.
“I’ve told you before, I’m not suited for those sort of theatrics.” He stroked his chin, deep in thought. “But I think you might be able to help me in my understanding of people.”
Still stubborn. Well, maybe if she eased her foot in the door now, she could wedge it open wider later. “How?”
“You have an excellent understanding of people, one that I lack. You understood what Miss Harrington was doing at my bedroom door before I did, and you are able to get people to do things they never thought they would do.”
“Me?” Gina said in disbelief.
“Yes, you convinced me to accompany you to the circus, and you seem to have Rupert and Chef Sasha wrapped around your little finger.”
She waved a hand in negation. “Oh, that. That’s nothing—anyone could figure them out.”
“I couldn’t,” Drake stated flatly.
Oddly enough, he really believed that. “Sure you could. All you need to do is pay attention and figure out each person’s hook.”
“Hook?”
“Yeah, you know—the one thing that motivates them the most. Once you know what makes them tick, you can get them to do what you want.”
“That sounds so . . . manipulative.”
“Yes, it does, doesn’t it? But people do it all the time, whether it’s conscious or not. Children are especially good at it. They learn very quickly what behaviors will get them what they want from their parents.”
He paused for a moment, lost in thought, then said, “I see. So what are Rupert and Chef Sasha’s ‘hooks’?”
She shrugged. “That’s easy—a few minutes of conversation with either of them will show you that Rupert will do almost anything for money and Sasha adores flattery.”
“And the Major?”
She snorted. “If you’re under the impression I have him wrapped around my little finger, you’re out of your mind.”
He smiled slightly. “Perhaps I am not so unobservant as you believe. He may pretend to be gruff, but I notice you aren’t in his black book as much as the others.”
“True, but I’ve learned the way to deal with him is to follow all his silly little rules and stay out of his way.”
“So that is his hook.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Gina said in surprise.
“Then what is mine?”
“I wish I knew.” If she knew that, she would have had a whole heck of a lot more success in convincing him to leave the resort.
“Ah, so your hook theory isn’t infallible?”
She’d never claimed it was, but for some reason, his certainty irritated her. “Oh, I don’t know,” she drawled, eyeing him speculatively. There was one hook she suspected would work with Drake, but she hadn’t wanted to use it for fear it would backfire. “I have an idea about you, too.”
“You think you have found a way to manipulate me?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Then again, maybe this was the right time to use it. “Maybe,” she said cryptically and rose from her chair. When Drake would have automatically risen as well, she pushed him gently back into his seat. “No, sit. I want to look at you, see if I can figure you out.”
Pretending to consider him, she circled him slowly, tapping one finger on her lips while she let the fingers of her other hand trail along his shoulders. Yes, that was the ticket. A sudden stiffness in his shoulders and the arrested awareness in his eyes let her know she’d gotten his attention.
A thrill shot through her at this evidence of her power, making her even bolder. Stopping in front of him, she leaned closer and stared into his eyes, pretending to seek knowledge there, but really letting him get a whiff of her perfume, and making sure he was very aware of her.
Her heart beat a rapid tattoo as she played her little game. She didn’t know exactly what effect this was having on Drake, but it was shredding her nerves to pieces.
He appeared cool, but when she glanced down, she noticed his knuckles were white on the arms of the chair. So, he wasn’t as indifferent as he might have her believe. Wanting to rip his facade asunder, she ran her hands lingeringly up his chest, and clasped them behind his neck.
Being this close to him made her breathless. She knew she was tormenting herself as much as she was him, but couldn’t help herself.
Time for the payoff. She leaned closer, tilted her head until they were only a kiss away, and whispered, “How’s this for a hook?”
Before he could answer, the door flew open. Startled, Gina could only stare as three people appeared in the doorway: Mrs. Biddle, Mrs. Harrington, and the Major.
“You see?” Mrs. Harrington said, her eyes glinting maliciously. “It isn’t enough that the brazen hussy coerced Mr. Manton into taking her to the circus, but she’s bent on seducing him as well. She said so herself.”
Startled, Gina let go of Drake. “No, it isn’t what you think.”
As Drake shot from the chair, Mrs. Biddle huffed with disgust. “This isn’t the sort of thing that goes on in a decent hotel.”
The Major stood ramrod straight and glared at Gina with disgust and disappointment. “Quite right. Miss Charles, your behavior is unconscionable.”
Damn. It looked really bad this time and for the life of her, she couldn’t think of any way to explain it.
Drake tried to interrupt the Major, but the hotel manager quelled him with a glance. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Manton, but this is an internal hotel matter. You’ll have your say later.” Then, turning to Gina, he said, “There is no excuse for your behavior. I want you out of The Chesterfield in two hours.”
“But—”
“No excuses. Two hours.” Unfortunately, his expression was as implacable as the women’s were triumphant.
I guess that’s what I get for acting so smug myself.
Reality suddenly hit with a one-two punch. She was fired. Gina’s heart sank. How was she going to support herself until the next solstice? Worse, how on earth was she going to save Drake’s life if she couldn’t even get near him?
Chapter 7
Gina couldn’t help it—she whimpered. Their expressions were just too much to handle. The smugness of the matchmaking mamas’, the implacability of the Major’s, and the worry on Drake’s face drove her to push past them and run away. She couldn’t face them, not until she figured out what to do.
She headed straight for her room and pulled Scruffy into her arms. He must have sensed her agitation, for he licked her nose in the only way he knew to comfort her. She buried her face in his soft coat. “What am I going to do now?”
She had only two hours to get out of The Chesterfield, two short hours until she was cast out into the unknown hazards of 1885. She didn’t know what would happen if she took longer than that, but she suspected it would cause a scene, and she didn’t really want that.
She glanced around at the room. Well, it certainly wouldn’t take long to pack. She had very little here except for a few items of clothing. The two hours that had seemed so short now seemed like forever. Once she packed, then what? She had no idea how to survive alone in these times. Where could she go? What could she do? She didn’t have a clue.
&n
bsp; A knock came at the door but Gina ignored it, hoping whoever it was would assume she was gone and leave her alone. She didn’t really want to face anyone right now. She needed to think.
But Scruffy let out a short, sharp bark, betraying their presence. The knock came again. “Who is it?” Gina asked wearily, prepared to tell whoever it was to go away.
“Esme Sparrow.”
On second thought, Esme was just the person Gina needed. She rushed to open the door and, judging by Esme’s concerned expression, the housekeeper already knew of her predicament.
Esme gently closed the door behind her and drew Gina into a hug. “What am I going to do with you?” the housekeeper asked softly.
“It wasn’t my fault,” Gina choked out past her tears. Until now, she hadn’t been able to cry. Nastiness of the Biddle kind just made her mad, but kindness was her undoing.
“Come, sit.” Esme pulled her down to sit beside her on the bed, as Gina wiped away her tears. Scruffy snuggled between them, looking up at Gina with a worried expression.
“Perhaps not all of it was your fault,” the housekeeper said gently. “But you could have been a little more circumspect. These times aren’t like yours.”
“They aren’t as different as you think.” Mrs. Biddle and Mrs. Harrington seemed like early incarnations of her own mother. Gina had never been able to please her, either.
But what did it matter? The past was past, and she couldn’t change it. But maybe Esme could. She looked at the housekeeper in sudden hope. “Can you talk the Major into letting me stay?”
“I might, given time,” Esme admitted. “But not with Mrs. Biddle and Mrs. Harrington so adamant against you. While they’re here, I’m afraid keeping you will be out of the question.”
“When do they leave?”
“I don’t know—they’ve registered an indefinite stay.”
“Maybe I can find a way to make them leave,” Gina suggested darkly.
Esme gave her a stern look. “You haven’t had much luck doing that with Mr. Manton. Do you really think you’ll be more successful with the ladies?”
[Hope Chest 01.0] Mesmerist Page 9