The Third Circle

  Thaddeus closed the door and turned to find Leona watching him with great interest.

  “That was quite astonishing, Mr. Ware,” she said.

  “Unfortunately, it did not gain us much in the way of information. The gentleman Mrs. Cleeves saw on the street may or may not have been the person who stole the crystal. I think we can assume, however, that the thief entered this house while your housekeeper and the dog were out.”

  “A chilling thought.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  She went to stand at the window. “How dare he?” she whispered in a low, tight voice. “After all these years and all I went through in order to recover that crystal. How dare the bastard steal it?”

  Sensing her distress, Fog got to his feet and went to her side. Thaddeus watched Leona reach down to touch him. She was reassuring herself as much as the dog, he thought.

  “Miss Hewitt,” he said, “do you live here alone?”

  “No.” She did not take her eyes off the view outside the window. “As you can see, I have Mrs. Cleeves and Fog.”

  “Forgive me, but is there anyone else with whom you can stay? Any family?”

  “No,” she said softly. “Not any more.”

  “Friends?”

  She flinched a little, as though taking an unseen blow. Then, very deliberately she squared her shoulders. “Until yesterday, my friend Carolyn shared this house with me,” she said, voice strengthening. “But she is married now and on her way to Egypt.”

  “I see. Then you are alone?”

  “No, sir, I am not alone.” She gave the dog a brisk pat and turned around to face him. “I told you, I have Mrs. Cleeves and Fog. What is the point of all these personal questions?”

  He exhaled slowly, trying to think of how best to say what had to be said.

  “It is clear that Delbridge has found you. I want you to come and stay with me until I have recovered the crystal.”

  Predictably, she was speechless.

  “There will be nothing improper about the arrangement,” he assured her. “You will be a guest in my parents’ household. They are traveling in America on business for the Arcane Society, but my great-aunt, who lives with them, is there.”

  “Why,” she demanded, “would I even think of doing such a thing?”

  He looked at her, willing her to understand the dangers of the situation. “According to the old records, the crystal is useless unless it is activated by someone with a very rare sort of talent. Sooner or later it may occur to Delbridge that the most likely reason why you, a crystal worker, took such a risk to get the aurora stone is because you possess just such a talent. If that happens, you will not be safe.”

  16

  THE STRESS OF TRYING to make polite conversation at the long dinner table had taken its toll. Leona thought she had held up rather well during the artichoke soup and fried trout, but by the time the roasted chicken and vegetables arrived, she was feeling the strain.

  Thaddeus, seated at the far end of the table, did little to help. Ever since bringing her into the house, he seemed to have sunk deep inside himself. Leona supposed he was preoccupied with plans for the recovery of the crystal.

  The only other person present at the table was Thaddeus’s formidable great-aunt, Victoria, Lady Milden. From the first moment they were introduced, it seemed to Leona that the austere older woman had viewed her with undisguised suspicion and disapproval.

  Victoria’s reaction came as no great surprise. Leona was prepared for it. Victoria, like everyone else in the Ware family, was a member of the Arcane Society after all and no doubt held a very low opinion of crystal workers. The legend of Sybil the Virgin Sorceress had a lot to answer for. Victoria was clearly appalled by the prospect of having to entertain a female she considered no better than a carnival fortune teller.

  The only one who appeared well pleased by the move to the large Ware family mansion was Fog. He had been instantly enthralled by the extensive gardens.

  Victoria looked at Leona across the top of a high silver dish filled with dried fruits. “You say you arrived in London a year and a half ago, Miss Hewitt?”

  “Yes,” Leona said politely.

  “Where did you live before that?”

  “A small seaside town. Little Tickton. I doubt you’ve heard of it.”

  “You pursued your career there in Little Tickton?”

  “That is correct, Lady Milden.”

  “For how long?”

  The questions were moving into dangerous territory. Time to shade the truth a little, Leona decided.

  “I have worked crystals professionally since the age of sixteen,” she said politely.

  “In Little Tickton,” Victoria pressed.

  “Mmm.” Leona ate a bite of potato. She was under no obligation to tell the truth, she thought. She had a right to her privacy.

  “I’ve heard that those with a talent for crystals are inclined to move around with some frequency,” Victoria observed.

  “Mmm.” Leona concentrated on a carrot.

  “If your career was going so well in Little Tickton for so many years, why did you feel compelled to move to London?”

  “I thought business might be better here.”

  “And is it?”

  Leona gave her a brilliant smile. “Oh, yes, without a doubt.”

  Victoria’s eyes tightened at the corners. She had not liked the smile, Leona thought.

  “Your dog is most unusual,” Victoria said. “Rather startling, actually. Looks a bit like a wolf.”

  “He’s not a wolf,” Leona assured her, rising instantly to Fog’s defense. It was one thing to insult her. She was not about to allow Victoria to insult her dog. “He is very well behaved and exceedingly intelligent. You will be quite safe with him.”

  “Where on earth did you acquire a dog like that?”

  “In Little Tickton. He showed up at my back door one day. It was as if he materialized out of the mist. I fed him. The next thing I knew, I had a dog.”

  “Does he bite?”

  Leona gave her another dazzling smile. “He would only attack someone whom he deemed to be a threat to me.”

  Victoria frowned and looked at Thaddeus. “Perhaps the dog should be kept on a chain outside in the gardens.”

  Leona did not wait for Thaddeus to respond.

  “There will be no chain,” she said coolly. “And Fog sleeps in my room. If that is not acceptable we will return to our own house on Vine Street.”

  Thaddeus shrugged and picked up his wineglass. “The dog appears to be well trained,” he said to his aunt. “He’ll be fine indoors.”

  “As you wish,” Victoria said. She rumpled her napkin in a tight, tense manner. “If you both will excuse me, I believe I will go to my room and read for the rest of the evening.”

  The rudeness was breathtaking. Victoria had as good as announced that she did not intend to play the hostess to a lowly crystal worker. Thaddeus got to his feet to help her with her chair. With a swish of her expensive silver-gray skirts, Victoria swept from the dining room.

  Thaddeus looked at Leona, his mesmeric eyes dark and somber. “I apologize on behalf of my aunt. She lost her husband, my uncle, a couple of years ago and suffers much from his absence. When my parents realized how depressed she was they insisted that she come here to stay in their house. They asked me to move in to keep an eye on her while they are away in America.”

  “I see.” Leona softened at once. She was only too well aware of what it was like to lose the people you loved. “I’m sorry for your aunt’s loss.”

  He hesitated. “Aunt Victoria has always been inclined to periodic bouts of melancholia, but the tendency has certainly grown worse since my uncle died. I think my mother secretly fears that she will sink into a deeper depression and do some harm to herself.”

  “I understand. But it is obvious that my presence here is upsetting her. Perhaps Fog and I should go back to Vine Street.”

  “You are not going anywhere,” he said qui
etly. “Except, perhaps, out to the conservatory.”

  “What?”

  “Would you accompany me on a tour of the conservatory, Miss Hewitt? There are some things of a personal nature that I must say to you and I would prefer to speak to you in a place where we are unlikely to be interrupted.”

  “If you are planning another lecture on that unfortunate situation in my consulting rooms today—”

  “No,” he said tersely. “I will undoubtedly lay awake for some time tonight torturing myself with what might have happened if Adam and I had not arrived when we did, but I promise you that there will be no more lectures.”

  “Very well, then.”

  When she put aside her napkin she realized that her pulse was suddenly beating a little too fast. Thaddeus held her chair. She rose, very conscious of his standing so close. When he offered her his arm, a thrill of sensual awareness tingled through her. In spite of everything, she could not resist responding to him, she thought.

  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but she could not tell whether touching her had any effect on him. His powers of self-mastery could be quite daunting. Then again, perhaps she did not really want to know the truth. Perhaps he felt nothing at all.

  Yet she could have sworn that there was energy in the air around them, just as there had been the other night when they had fought the demons in the carriage. Something strange and wondrous happened when she was with Thaddeus, something that she had never experienced with any other man, not even William Trover, the man she had planned to marry.

  Out in the hall Fog appeared as if by magic. He padded along behind them, looking hopeful. When Thaddeus opened the garden door, he trotted eagerly outside and disappeared immediately into the shadows.

  Thaddeus drew Leona onto a terrace and along a short, graveled path. The gracefully arched glass walls of the conservatory gleamed opaquely in the moonlight. The gaslight streaming through the tall library windows revealed Fog snuffling at some nearby shrubbery.

  “My dog is certainly enjoying your hospitality,” Leona said, striving to strike a neutral note.

  “I am well aware that you are not.”

  She winced. “I said nothing to indicate anything of the sort.”

  “You hardly needed to voice your opinion of my suggestion that you stay here. Your sentiments are obvious.”

  She cleared her throat. “It was not, as I recall, a suggestion. More in the nature of a command, I believe.”

  “Damnation.”

  The muttered oath told her more clearly than any words that he was gripped with tension, just as she was. For some reason that realization caused her spirits to lift. Think positive. He feels the energy, too.

  “I brought you here because I could not come up with any other plan to ensure your safety,” he added quietly.

  “I understand, sir. And I do appreciate your interest in my welfare. Forgive my irritation earlier today. It has been a somewhat trying afternoon.”

  “I cannot imagine why you would say that, Miss Hewitt. By my reckoning there was not much out of the ordinary going on today. One of your clients clearly misunderstood the sort of therapeutic consultation you were offering and tried to assault you. I showed up unexpectedly on your doorstep after you had no doubt assured yourself that you were safely rid of me. And last but not least you discovered that an intruder had invaded the sanctity of your home and stolen the aurora stone.”

  In the light from the window she could see that his mouth was curved in a grim smile.

  “Quite correct, sir,” she said bracingly. “When you put it like that it becomes plain that I am indeed overreacting to events.”

  “You are not the only one, Miss Hewitt. I confess that today’s activities have been hard on my nerves as well.”

  “Rubbish. You have nerves of steel, Mr. Ware.”

  “Not when it comes to you, madam.”

  He opened the door of the conservatory and ushered her into the scented darkness. The warm, humid atmosphere enveloped them. He paused to turn up a gas lamp. The low, glary light revealed a shadowy jungle.

  She looked around with a sense of delight. Exotic palms and tropical plants of all descriptions spread broad leaves over a vast forest of ferns and unusual blooms.

  “What a beautiful slice of Eden,” she said, awed. “It is magnificent.”

  Thaddeus followed her gaze. “As a rule, the members of my family pursue their passions with great energy. This conservatory is my parents’ passion. They both possess strong talents for all things botanical. I vow, they could grow roses on a stone.”

  She glanced at a nearby workbench that was covered with an assortment of gardening tools. A heavy sheet of canvas, folded into a neat square, rested at the far end.

  “Your passion is your work as an investigator?” she asked, turning toward him.

  He stood motionless, his back to the low light. She could see nothing of his expression. “Yes.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Not everyone comprehends that,” he added after a moment.

  She gave a tiny shrug. “Not everyone has a passion. Those who lack one probably have difficulty understanding those of us who do.”

  He nodded, very serious. “I suspect you are right.”

  There was another long, heavy silence.

  She pulled her composure around her like a shawl. “Well, then, sir, you said there was something of a personal nature you wished to discuss.”

  “Yes.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “If you wish to tell me that you did not care for that little inn where Adam and I left you the other night, I apologize. I realize the establishment was not up to your standards, but it appeared reasonably clean.”

  “This is not about the damn inn,” he cut in roughly. “It is about what happened in the carriage before you and Adam took me to the Blue Drake.”

  “I see.” She frowned, not seeing anything at all. “You refer to my talents? Trust me, I am well aware that no one in the Arcane Society thinks much of those with my sort of abilities. However, I really don’t—”

  “Trust me when I tell you that parahypnotists are not particularly popular within the Society, either.”

  “Oh.” That gave her pause. “I had not realized—”

  “What I wish to speak to you about concerns my behavior the other night.”

  “What of it?” she asked, going quite blank.

  “This is not easy for me to say, Miss Hewitt. I am a man who prides himself on his powers of self-mastery. In addition, I was raised a gentleman.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a moment, sir,” she said, still baffled. “What is this about?”

  “I am well aware that an apology is hardly adequate under the circumstances, but it is all that I have in my power to give.”

  “Whatever are you talking about, sir?”

  His jaw went rigid. “I understand. You want me to acknowledge the true depths of my offense. I assure you, I do. I have never before tried to force myself on a woman. Do you want to know why I was so furious this afternoon when I found you fleeing from your client? It was because the scene made me fully aware that the other night I had behaved no differently.”

  She felt her jaw drop. “Mr. Ware.”

  “I realize that you will not be able to forgive me, but I hope to convince you that you can trust me not to repeat the experience.”

  Aghast, she took an impulsive step forward and covered his mouth with her fingertips.

  “That is quite enough,” she said. Abruptly aware of the intriguing feel of his lips against her palm, she hastily lowered her hand. “I do not want to hear another word of your apology. It is quite unnecessary. I do not blame you for what happened in the carriage. How could you possibly think that? I knew very well that you were under the influence of that noxious drug.”

  “That is not an excuse. You see, even though I was strongly affected by the drug, I knew what I was doing.” His voice darkened. “I regret to say I did it quite deliberat
ely.”

  A shiver of excitement tingled through her. She tried to suppress it. She was a professional, she reminded herself. It was not as if she had not had experience dealing with a client’s most intimate dreams.

  “You were hallucinating, sir,” she said briskly. “It was a form of dreaming. Granted, it was a very intense version of the experience, nevertheless—”

  “I was in the midst of a nightmare. But you, Miss Hewitt, were not one of the dark fantasies of my dream. You were, in fact, the only thing inside that carriage that I knew for certain was real, the only vision I could trust.”

  “Really?”

  “I focused every scrap of will I could summon on you in an effort to avoid being overwhelmed completely by the phantasms.”

  “I see,” she whispered, beginning to comprehend at last. Once again the tiny flame of hope inside her was blown out by the gusts of reality. “You must have employed a great deal of energy to keep yourself from sinking deeper into the nightmare.”

  “I did. And I regret to say that the power I drew on came from the most primal aspect of my nature. It was the energy generated by raw, untrammeled lust, Miss Hewitt.”

  She felt the heat rise inside her until she was certain it infused her entire body from head to toe. She hoped devoutly that the shadows concealed her blush. Clearing her throat she assumed what she hoped was a professional tone.

  “There is no need to say anything more. Having worked with crystals for many years, I am well aware that in addition to the dream state, there are other aspects of our nature that can generate considerable energy. When stirred to great levels of excitement, as it were, all of the elemental emotions, such as sexual passion, produce strong currents, even in those who are unaware of their paranormal senses.”

  “I regret to say that desire was the only force powerful enough to counteract some of the effects of that damned drug.”

  “Actually, no, it wasn’t,” she said.

  He frowned. “What the devil do you mean by that?”

  “Given what I learned of your nature when I channeled your energy in the crystal, I can assure you that you could have summoned power from another source.”