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“I have explained to you that I cannot see the faces of the killers in the mirrors. But Mr. Sweetwater was with me when I performed the readings. He was able to sense something of the psychical nature of the person who murdered Mrs. Ratford and Mrs. Hackett.”

Leybrook gave Owen a hard look.

“What did you learn about the killer?” Adriana asked uneasily.

“It was clear that the person who murdered Ratford and Hackett took an unnatural and unwholesome thrill of a sexual nature from the acts,” Owen said.

Adriana stared at him, appalled. “ Really,Mr. Sweetwater.”

“Really, Miss Walters,” Owen said.

Leybrook’s eyes narrowed. “I fail to see how that observation rules you out as the killer, Sweetwater.”

Virginia smiled benignly. “I can assure you that Mr. Sweetwater’s passions, while strong, are not at all unnatural or unwholesome. Quite the contrary.”

Leybrook shot Owen another scathing look and then glowered at Virginia. “I think you’ve had a little too much champagne, Miss Dean.”

Virginia ignored that. “If Mr. Sweetwater were to commit a lethal act, I am certain that he would not derive a thrill from the business.”

“Certainly not a sexual thrill,” Owen said, gravely polite. “I prefer to get that sort of thing in the normal manner.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

Well, that certainly put the cat amongst the pigeons,” Charlotte observed. “For heaven’s sake, Virginia, why did you not simply wear a large sign on the back of your gown tonight announcing that you were involved in a romantic liaison with Mr. Sweetwater?”

“I didn’t think the sign would complement my dress,” Virginia said.

Charlotte glared at her. “I am serious.”

“Sorry,” Virginia said. “I could not seem to help myself. It is not as though the rumors about my relationship with Mr. Sweetwater were not already circulating.”

“Rumors of an affair are one thing. An outright declaration is quite another. Until tonight we could always hope that there were at least a few doubts about the nature of your relationship with Mr. Sweetwater. Leybrook looked furious. This could well destroy your career, Virginia.”

“I’ll survive. I do have one thing going for me.”

“What?”

“My talent is genuine.”

They were standing on the crowded front steps of the Institute, waiting for Nick and Owen to return with the carriages. It was nearly midnight. In the glary illumination from the gas lamps that bracketed the entrance, the busy scene looked as if it had been rendered in chiaroscuro, all light and shadow. The street was jammed with carriages and hansoms hoping for fares.

“Your talent may be real, but you know as well as I do that the average client cannot tell the difference between a fraud and the real thing,” Charlotte said. “The reason your business is flourishing is because of your connection to the Institute, not because you can actually read mirrors.”

“I did manage to make a living before I joined the Institute,” Virginia said.

“Yes, but you are earning far more now, thanks to Leybrook making this Institute fashionable.”

“Trust me, I am aware of the current state of my finances.”

“In any event, as if the damage to your reputation was not enough, Nick tells me that the entire exercise tonight has been wasted. He claims that any number of people appear to be obsessed with you, including Leybrook and Adriana.” Charlotte paused. “For somewhat different reasons, of course.”

“Nick? You are already so well acquainted with Nicholas Sweetwater that you refer to him by his first name?”

“It seemed the most convenient way to distinguish him from your Mr. Sweetwater,” Charlotte said. “It was getting confusing.”

“He’s not my Mr. Sweetwater.”

“Hah. That is no longer in doubt, thanks to your remarks to Adriana and Leybrook. Honestly, Ginny, what were you thinking?”

“I’m not sure I was thinking. I just did not care for the way Adriana was looking at Owen.”

“Gentlemen do have a difficult time looking her in the eye when they converse with her. Their attention tends to wander south. My point is that she is a nasty piece of work. If she thinks you are a threat to her position with Leybrook, there’s no telling what she might do.”

“I did get the warning about both of them from Pamela’s ancient Egyptian princess,” Virginia said. “But I very much doubt that Leybrook would be happy with me as his assistant, and I do not think that Adriana would murder me just because she lost her position.”

“I wouldn’t place any wagers on the lovely Adriana, if I were you,” Charlotte said. “That woman is a viper. I am convinced she could be dangerous.”

A voice rose out of the crowd on the steps: “Miss Dean, Miss Dean, one moment, if you please.”

Virginia turned to see Jasper Welch bustling toward her through the throng. She smiled. “Good evening, sir. I saw you earlier from across the room, but you appeared to be feverishly busy attending to D. D. Pinkerton.”

“He was being practically ignored. Everyone was trying to chat with Leybrook.” Welch came to a halt in front of her. “It was quite awkward, given that the reception was in Pinkerton’s honor. I felt obliged to do something to smooth over the insult.”

“It was very gracious of you,” Charlotte assured him.

“It has been a difficult evening.” Welch took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. “I am very glad it is over. There are always so many details to attend to, and something always seems to go wrong. Poor Mrs. Fordham was overwhelmed. The caterer ran out of lobster canapés midway through the evening, and she was forced to send for more champagne.”

“You did a brilliant job, as always, Mr. Welch,” Virginia assured him.

Charlotte smiled. “Yes, it was a beautifully planned affair, sir. I do not know what Mr. Leybrook would do without you. I’m sure the Institute would collapse, were it not for your expert management.”

“I could not handle any of it if it were not for Mrs. Fordham,” Welch said. “She is a wonder.”

“Speaking of Mrs. Fordham, I did not see her tonight,” Virginia said.

“She was very busy behind the scenes,” Welch said. “The crowd was larger than we had anticipated. Miss Dean, the reason I wanted to speak to you was to apologize for the unpleasant gossip that is making the rounds.”

“Idle chatter,” Charlotte said firmly.

“And certainly not your fault, sir,” Virginia added.

Deep furrows of concern lined Welch’s brow. “Nevertheless, I am very sorry for any embarrassment you may have experienced tonight.”

“I shall recover,” Virginia assured him.

“Of course, of course.” Welch inclined his head in a small bow. “Dear me, I see Mrs. Harkins is having some difficulty managing the steps with her cane. If you will excuse me?”

“Of course,” Virginia said.

“Good evening, Mr. Welch,” Charlotte added.

They watched Welch scurry off to assist the aging Mrs. Harkins, a venerable practitioner who conducted séances twice weekly on Wednesday and Friday nights.

“The woman may be suffering from rheumatism,” Charlotte observed softly, “but she is still doing more business than most of her competitors. I hear that she recently raised her séance fees yet again, and now counts Lady Bingham among her regular clients.”

“Yes, well, Mrs. Harkins is an American,” Virginia said. “You know how it is, the act from out of town always draws the largest crowd.”

Like many who specialized in summoning spirits, Mrs. Harkins had originally hailed from America. The rage for the paranormal had begun in the States decades earlier, and American mediums still commanded considerable attention from the British public.

Charlotte raised her brows. “How fortunate for Mr. Sweetwater that he did not choose to make an example of Mrs. Harkins when he set out to expose a couple of fraudulent mediums last month. She’d have made mincemeat of him.”