“You must not lose your heart to Mr. Sweetwater. He will surely break it, even if he does not intend to do so. He comes from a different world.”
“I understand. But really, Charlotte, why should I bother to protect my heart any longer? I will have the rest of my life to recover from a doomed love affair.”
“Hmm.”Charlotte considered the question for perhaps five seconds, and then she nodded once, emphatically. “You’re quite right. After it is over, you will have the stirring memories. I, on the other hand, will have only the stirring recollections of my appointments with Dr. Spinner to warm my lonely old age.”
“Assuming you do not get electrocuted.”
Charlotte shuddered. “It is an alarming thought, isn’t it?”
“So is the prospect of a broken heart. But at least one survives that sort of thing, or so I’m told. Looking on the bright side, I’m sure there will always be doctors offering treatments for female hysteria to whom I can turn after my liaison with Mr. Sweetwater comes to the inevitable conclusion.”
“And given the amazing progress of modern science, we can no doubt look forward to many more advances in electrical devices of a medical nature.”
“No doubt.”
They looked at each other. For a moment neither of them spoke. Then, as happened so often between them, they both burst into laughter.
“Oh, Charlotte, what would I do without you?” Virginia said. She took out a handkerchief and wiped the tears away from her eyes.
“I would miss you even more than you would miss me,” Charlotte said. She sobered. “Are you absolutely certain that your affair with Mr. Sweetwater will end badly?”
“I think it is the most likely outcome.”
“But the two of you have so much in common.”
Virginia frowned. “In what way?”
“It strikes me that your talents are quite similar.”
“He hunts psychical killers. I see the dead in mirrors. How are those two talents alike?”
“Perhaps not alike but complementary, if you see what I mean. When you think about it, the two of you make a very good team.”
“For goodness’ sake, Charlotte, I would not want Mr. Sweetwater to marry me just because we make a good investigation team. Even assuming he was inclined to do so, it is not enough. You and I have both discussed this matter. We made our decision the night of my twenty-sixth birthday. We will marry for love or we will not marry at all.”
Charlotte grimaced. “It certainly seemed like a very modern, very romantic notion at the time. But sometimes I wonder if perhaps we may have been a bit too hasty.”
“Enough of this depressing conversation. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Such as?”
“I think there is someone who may be able to shed some light on this investigation.”
“Who?”
“Lady Hollister’s companion,” Virginia said. “There has been so much going on in the past few days that we have all but forgotten about her.”
“Why is she important?”
“She may well have been the last person to see her employer alive.”
Charlotte glanced at the copy of the Flying Intelligenceron the table. “According to the report in the press, Lady Hollister’s body was found by the housekeeper. The rest of the staff was dismissed the morning after you were kidnapped.”
“In which case the companion is no doubt searching for another post.”
“Yes.” Charlotte’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “I could make some inquiries among the agencies that provide hired companions, if you like. It might take some time, but it shouldn’t be too difficult to find the woman who attended Lady Hollister.”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” Virginia said. “How soon can you start?”
She was interrupted by the tinkling of the bell above the door of the shop. She turned to watch Owen walk into the room. It seemed to her that he entered on an invisible tide of power. The lower edges of his unbuttoned overcoat swept out around him. She thrilled to his presence as she always did, with a stirring sense of awareness.
He was followed by a tall, lanky gentleman in need of a visit to his barber. The long-haired man wore an expensively tailored but sadly rumpled suit. His tie was a shapeless knot at his throat.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Owen said. He came to a halt in the center of the room and inclined his head very formally in Charlotte’s direction. “Miss Tate, I presume?”
Virginia remembered her manners. “This is Mr. Sweetwater, Charlotte.”
Charlotte stared, fascinated, at Owen. “Yes, I know. Indeed, all the Leybrook practitioners are aware of your identity, sir.”
Owen looked amused. “Miss Dean warned me that was the case.”
Charlotte blushed. “You have a certain reputation in our world, Mr. Sweetwater.”
“So I’m told.” He moved one gloved hand toward the tall man in the rumpled suit. “Allow me to present my cousin, Nicholas Sweetwater. Nick, Miss Dean and Miss Tate.”
Virginia and Charlotte both looked politely at Nick, but he seemed unaware of them. He had wandered over to the locked bookcase and was perusing the collection of ancient leather-bound volumes with great interest.
“I say, this collection looks a good deal more promising than I had anticipated, Owen,” he announced. “When you informed me that we were going to visit a bookshop that specialized in the paranormal, I assumed the place would be rife with lurid books on magic and the occult. But I see what may actually be a genuine copy of Wakefield’s Notes on Alchemy.”
“It is most certainly a genuine copy of Wakefield’s Notes,sir,” Charlotte snapped. “I would not have taken the trouble to store it in that locked case if it was a copy or a forgery.”
“What?” Startled, Nick turned around. For the first time he appeared to notice Charlotte and Virginia. He turned red. “Sorry. Good afternoon, ladies.”
Virginia murmured a polite greeting. Now that she could see him more plainly, she realized that Nick Sweetwater was younger than Owen, twenty-eight or twenty-nine, perhaps. There was some family resemblance, most noticeably in the broad shoulders and lean physiques of the two men. But Nick’s intelligent eyes lacked the dark knowledge that burned in the depths of Owen’s disturbing gaze.
“That particular volume is extremely rare,” Charlotte informed Nick in frosty tones.
“I am well aware of that,” Nick said eagerly. “I would very much like to examine it to determine its authenticity for myself.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Charlotte said a little too sweetly.
“What do you mean? This is a bookshop. I am interested in examining a book that I might wish to purchase.”
“I’m afraid I only allow legitimatepractitioners of the paranormal and researchers who are known to me or vouchsafed by someone I trust to examine the books in the locked cases,” Charlotte informed him in lofty accents. “Many of those volumes contain dangerous information. I cannot let just anyone read them.”
Nick stared at her, shocked. Then he started to scowl. “I assure you I possess a fair amount of psychical ability. Just ask my cousin, here.”
Owen caught Virginia’s eye. She realized he was suppressing a grin.
“I am happy to verify that my cousin does indeed possess a high level of psychical ability,” Owen said.
“What of it?” Charlotte shot back. “That is not as important as his standing as a researcher. What are his academic credentials?”
Nick’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll have you know, Miss Tate, that I can read a number of ancient languages, including three or four that are dead, and I have deciphered the codes of several old alchemists.”
“Hmm.”Charlotte was not impressed.
“I have been a student of the paranormal since I was old enough to open a book. I have, in fact, written a few papers for the Arcane Society’s Journal of Paranormal and Psychical Research,which is, I might add, a far more legitimate publication than the Leybrook Institute’s ridiculous rag. It’s true that I write under a pseudonym, due to the fact that my family does not like to see the Sweetwater name in print, but that does not alter the validity of my work.”