A Dreadful Splendor (49)

“I will endeavour to appear surprised,” he said.

I continued, “I chose this table because the pedestal has four clawed feet. A large enough tablecloth will hang to the floor, hiding the underside.” I turned two of the chairs to face each other and sat in one.

“And why is that?”

“Because there will be a shimmy under one of the claws, one long enough for me to press down with my foot. It will make it seem like the table is rocking on its own.”

He stayed quiet, but there was an expression of surprised approval. Then he sat in the chair opposite mine. With our knees practically touching, I reached out, palms up, and said, “We should hold hands.”

Without breaking his stare, Mr. Pemberton lightly placed his hands over mine. I imagined a blush moving up my neck. “I rarely make this request,” I said. “But for this time, we’ll close our eyes.”

He did as I instructed. I was aware of every incremental move ment of his fingertips. My thumb smoothed over his pinkie ring, and I could feel the hollow where a stone might have been.

I began, “Lady Audra, we bring you gifts of love from our hearts to reach you in death. Commune with us and move among us.”

I heard him swallow.

“Commune with us and move . . .” Then I gasped. “She is here!”

A sticky heat grew between our palms.

“Will you speak with us?” I continued.

Three distinct knocks were the answer.

His chair creaked, and I sensed him leaning closer. I opened my eyes a slit to find him staring at me with a daring expression that bordered on wolfish. “You’re supposed to have your eyes closed,” I said. “You’re ruining the ambience.”

“But I want to know what you’re doing.”

“Once you deprive one sense, the others become more acute,” I explained. “I want to test you. Now close your eyes.”

He seemed satisfied with that and shut his eyes again. Impulsively, I took this opportunity to inspect him. The scar that ran along his lower jaw was faint, but there was almost a puncture-like mark under his right ear where it started. I wondered what could have made such an injury. His eyelashes flickered, bringing me back to the moment.

“Lady Audra,” I began. “Will you speak with us?”

Again, we heard the three knocking sounds.

“How are you doing that?” he asked.

The room had become a cocoon, making any noise or sensation immensely exaggerated.

“Stop interrupting,” I whispered.

“Do it again,” he said. “I want to see if I can guess.” There was an intense curiosity about him.

I made the three knocks again.

He opened his eyes, and then leaned to the side, ducking his head under the table. “Aha!” he said. “Your boot is off.”

My foot squirmed away, already slipping back into the boot. There was something unusually embarrassing about him seeing my stocking.

Sitting upright again, he looked rather delighted with himself. “You’re cracking a toe, I believe.”

“An ankle,” I corrected, unable to hide my sourness.

“Tell me, were you born with such a talented joint or was this the result of a chill that settled in your bones?” Now I was certain he was teasing me, but I could sense a deliberate attempt to his question.

“No,” I told him truthfully. “There was an accident with a coach and a horse—I was seven.”

His face paled. “Seven? You must have been quite scared.”

The thoughtful consideration did not go unnoticed by me. “I don’t remember it that well,” I lied.

“Regardless, you’re very good. I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been listening so carefully. Even though I know you’re trying to fool me, I’m sitting here, believing you.” He hit me with his sky-blue eyes. “I underestimated your talents. If I’m not careful, you’ll have me convinced ghosts exist. I feel like I’m already under your spell.”

His playful praise washed over me, warm and light as a summer breeze. I began to calculate how I could stretch out this afternoon so that we’d have to supper here as well. Just the two of us. I’d never been so comfortable. How could I have ever thought this room was cold and musty?

The grandfather clock chimed. My attention went to Lord Chadwick’s portrait. He glared down at me as if he could read my mind. In a few days it would be replaced by Audra’s. The reality slammed into my chest.

Maman’s voice chastised me. Beware of what your heart tells you, ma petite chérie. It has the power to make you think you’re invincible.

The conflict must have shown on my face, because his amused expression faded. “Has my lucky guess resulted in wounding your pride? I apologize.”

“I care not for your ability to detect my methods. I merely forgot my purpose, so the apology should be mine. We are planning to catch the person you believe to be your bride’s murderer, but we’re treating this venture with no more dignity than a game of cards.”

His lips parted in shock. “The art of illusion and conning others isn’t my forte. You’re the one with all the power. I’m merely your prop.”

He was right, of course. I stood on shaking legs. I was angry at Mr. Pemberton for deciding to be charming, I was angry with the unfairness of the world, but most of all, I was angry at myself for forgetting Maman’s most fundamental rules. “I’m supposed to comfort those who are desperate for peace,” I said. “Not this sinister scheme you’ve forced me into.”