“It’s about time you woke up,” Virginia said. “Your relations downstairs have been very anxious.”
He turned his head on the pillow and saw her in the doorway of the bedroom. She was dressed in a plain housedress. Her hair was neatly pinned into a simple knot at the back of her head. She had a mug of coffee in her hand.
“Virginia,” he said. He sat up and started to push back the covers. He stopped when he realized he was nude to the waist. He glanced down and saw that he was wearing only his drawers. He yanked the covers back up over his hips and surveyed the decidedly feminine curtains, wallpaper and dressing table. “This is your bedroom.”
“Yes, it is. It was much closer than your own, so we brought you here. It seemed more convenient.” She carried the mug into the room, set it down on the bedside table and gave him a bright smile. “How are you feeling?”
He pondered that briefly. “I think I feel all right.” Cautiously he heightened his talent. Relief flooded through him when he realized that his psychical senses were as strong as ever. “Yes. I’m fine.”
“Good,” she said. “Mrs. Crofton is preparing breakfast for all of us. I suggest you wash up, dress and join us.”
He looked around. “Where are the rest of my clothes?”
“Tony discarded them. He went to your house early this morning to fetch some clean clothes for you. There was just too much blood.”
He grimaced. Seeing him covered in the blood of a man he had just killed had probably not left a good impression on her.
“I understand,” he said.
“You’ll find everything you need hanging in the wardrobe. The bathroom is next door.”
She turned to leave.
“Virginia,” he said very quietly.
She stopped and looked at him. “Yes?”
“You saved me last night.”
“No,” she said. “You are a strong man. You just needed time to recover from the effects of the mirror.”
“I can’t believe that damned looking glass was so powerful.”
“It was an alchemical weapon, not an ordinary looking glass. Charlotte and Nick have done some research into its origins. They will tell you all about it when you come downstairs.”
He twisted the sheet around himself, stood and walked across the room to stand in front of her. “Whatever the hell it was, you are the reason I recovered with my senses intact.”
“No, I could sense the power in you, even when you were unconscious. I knew that you would recover.”
“Because I had you to hold on to.” He tipped up her chin and brushed his mouth across hers. “There is a connection between us, Virginia. Admit it.”
“Perhaps there is some sort of psychical awareness.”
“Yes, there certainly is.” He kissed her forehead.
“But that is not so odd, when you think about it,” she said. She frowned in intense concentration, as though puzzling out a math problem. “We are both strong talents, and we have been intimate. Passion is a powerful force. It creates a great deal of energy.”
“Indeed.” He kissed her nose.
“While it lasts,” she whispered.
She whirled and fled the room.
For some reason he was ridiculously pleased with her confusion. It was so unlike Virginia to get flustered. He told himself he would take it as a good omen.
He walked into the dining room a short time later and stopped at the sight of the large crowd gathered there. Virginia and Charlotte sat at the table, plates of eggs, toast and kippered salmon in front of them. Each was reading a morning paper.
“Ladies,” he said. “You look lovely today.”
Virginia glanced up from the Flying Intelligencer. She surveyed him critically and appeared satisfied. “Good morning.”
Charlotte smiled warmly. “It is good to see you looking so fit after your ordeal, sir.”
“I expect to look even better after I’ve had breakfast,” he said.
Nick, Matt and Tony were at the sideboard, helping themselves to generous quantities of food from the serving dishes.
“About time you woke up,” Nick said. He ladled a mound of scrambled eggs onto his plate. “It was a long night, and none of us got much sleep, thanks to you, so we decided to start breakfast without you.”
“I’m touched,” Owen said. He realized he was hungry. He picked up a plate and examined the contents of the serving dishes. “What the devil are you all doing here at this hour of the morning?”
“We spent the night here,” Nick said.
The swinging door between the kitchen and the dining room opened. Mrs. Crofton bustled into the room with a pot of coffee. Her eyes widened at the sight of Owen. She appeared pleased.
Pleased and decidedly more cheerful than usual, Owen thought. The housekeeper seemed almost energized.
“You’re awake, then, sir,” she said. “And looking quite fit, just as Miss Dean predicted.” She set the coffeepot down on the table. “I’ll bring out some more potatoes.”
She whisked back into the kitchen. He knew at once that she was aware of everything that had happened during the night. He looked at Virginia.
“It is impossible to keep secrets from a housekeeper,” she said. She went back to reading her paper.
Owen glanced at Charlotte, who made a show of turning a page of the morning paper that she was perusing.
He turned his attention to Nick.
“You all spent the night here?” he said without inflection.
“Yes,” Nick said.
“Must have been somewhat crowded.”
“We made do,” Nick said easily. “Wanted to make sure you didn’t do something melodramatic if you woke up and concluded that the mirror had permanently fried your para-senses. Try some of the salmon. It’s excellent.”
Owen picked up one of the large silver serving spoons. “When have you ever known me to be melodramatic?”
“First time for everything,” Nick said. He took a bite of toast.
It dawned on Owen that Virginia and Charlotte were listening intently without appearing to do so. He concluded it would be best to move on to another topic, one more suited to casual breakfast-table conversation.
“What did you do with the body?” he asked.
Virginia choked on her tea and started to cough. Charlotte glowered at Owen.
He carried his plate back to the table, sat down and looked at both women. “Something I said?”
Virginia recovered and gave him a severe look. “We are eating breakfast, Mr. Sweetwater. Kindly save all talk of dead bodies until later.”
He noticed that Nick, Matt and Tony were doing their best to conceal their twitching lips.
“Breakfast-table conversation in non-Sweetwater households generally takes a slightly different tone than it does at home,” Tony said.
“Is that so?” Owen sat down at the table. “In that case, pass me the toast tray.”
They gathered in the parlor after breakfast. Mrs. Crofton joined them. Owen did not ask her to leave. She knew too much already, he thought. She might as well hear the rest of it. After all, she was part of Virginia’s household.
“We dumped the footpad’s body in one of the old crypts,” Nick said. “It will probably be ages, perhaps years, before it is discovered, if, indeed, it is ever found. But even if by some fluke someone stumbled over it today, there is nothing on it that will connect him to any of us. Everything about him, from his clothes to his rings and the kind of knife he carried, indicates he was a professional criminal.”
“One of many who are now on the streets, looking for work, since Luttrell’s criminal empire fell apart,” Matt said.
“Don’t worry, Uncle Owen, we took care of every detail,” Tony added.
“I do not doubt that,” Owen said. “What I find troubling about this situation is the Quicksilver Mirror.”
They all looked at the black velvet sack on the coffee table.