by C. J. Archer
He folded his arms and glared at me. "What are you talking about?"
I could see he wouldn't understand, and I wasn't sure I had the energy to explain it to him. Besides, what I had in mind involved Charity, and I suspected Samuel was beginning to develop some feelings toward her. He wouldn't like my suggestion that Jack forget me and pay court to her once more.
He would only ask why, and I would have to tell him that I thought them well suited. I would also have to tell him that I planned on pushing Jack away from me and into her arms. It was something I had to do, even though my chest hurt just thinking about him with another. It was time I started considering Jack and his future. He would mourn me when I was gone, but if he had Charity, losing me wouldn't devastate him.
CHAPTER 9
I refused the next three gentlemen who asked me to dance and headed away from Jack. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I needed cold, fresh air and that meant slipping out of the ballroom altogether. I parted from Samuel who went in search of Myer and found a small parlor blessedly empty of revelers. I opened the door leading out to the balcony and closed it behind me. The breeze rustled my hair and swept the heat from my skin, although not the deeper heat that swelled inside.
After a few minutes, I turned to go back. I spotted Jack through the glass door, scowling at me, although there was relief in his face too. I gave him a reassuring smile, despite my heavy heart. Somehow I had to convince him to spend more time with Charity tonight. It wasn't going to be easy.
I opened the door. "Have you been looking for me?"
"Everywhere." He rubbed his hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. "Don't disappear again, Hannah. You had me worried."
"I wish you wouldn't. I don't like to be smothered."
He flinched. "I'm sorry. I wouldn't usually, but considering your health…" He cleared his throat. "When I couldn't find you, I panicked."
Oh God, I couldn't do this. He didn't deserve to be treated so poorly. There had to be another way to push him into Charity's arms that didn't involve me acting cruelly. I just wasn't capable of it where he was concerned. "I'm sorry, Jack, I didn't mean to speak harshly."
"It's all right." He put his hand on the back of one of the leather armchairs. "Come and sit down. I'll fetch you a drink. I probably should go in search of Samuel too."
"Samuel?"
"I sent him off to look for you."
I sat down and he left, but not before glancing back at me, his eyes hidden by shadows.
The chair was comfortable and deep, my eyes heavy. I closed them and rested my head against the chair wing. Music and chatter combined in a melodic cadence that drifted through the house from the ballroom. It surrounded me, filled my head, and made me drowsy.
"Hannah?" Jack's voice nudged the sleepiness aside. "I've brought you a cup of tea and a glass of punch. I wasn't sure which you'd prefer."
I opened my eyes and accepted the tea. He placed the glass on the table beside my chair. "Thank you," I said. "I must have fallen asleep."
He crouched before me. "Would you like to return to the hotel?"
"No. It's much too early."
"You can rest in here for a while. I'll keep everybody out."
"Jack, I appreciate everything you're doing for me, but you should be in the ballroom enjoying yourself."
"How can I enjoy myself out there when you're in here?"
His words thrilled me and worried me at the same time. "Go and find Miss Charity and ask her to dance."
He sat on the chair opposite. "She won't dance with me. She doesn't want to."
"But you're friends. Good friends."
He looked down at his hands in his lap. "We were."
"You could be again. Those feelings couldn't have completely disappeared."
"Hannah, what are you talking about? If you're worried about Charity and me, you shouldn't be."
"Oh, I'm not." I shrugged and pretended indifference. "I just think you should keep trying to be a good friend to her. I'm sure she needs one."
"Perhaps, but—"
Samuel strolled in, cutting Jack off. "Are you all right, Hannah?"
"Perfectly," I lied. "Now stop fussing, both of you."
Myer entered the room too and bowed. I was taken aback to see him, even though I knew he was somewhere in the vast, crowded ballroom. He must have followed Samuel.
"Good evening, Miss Smith, Mr. Langley." His voice had the smooth quality that I associated with Samuel's but wasn't hypnotizing, merely resonant and pleasant to listen to.
"Myer," Jack said with a nod. The greeting may have sounded benign, but there was coldness in it. Knowing that Jack didn't trust him, I wasn't surprised. If Myer noticed, he gave nothing away.
I sipped my tea and watched him over the rim of the cup. He was not at all handsome, but he had a friendly manner and chatted easily. Jack engaged him in conversation about banking and finance. At least, he tried to. Myer dismissed his questions with a wave.
"I don't get involved in the day-to-day running of the bank," he said with a laugh. "Those things are best left to the experts, eh? My expertise and interests lie elsewhere."
"In the supernatural?" I asked.
"Yes, and hypnosis in particular. I'm thrilled to be working with Mr. Gladstone."
"What do you hope to achieve by studying him?" Jack asked.
"Perhaps I can find what links he and I, why are we both able to hypnotize with ease, that sort of thing."
"And if you find a link? What will you do then?"
Myer shrugged one shoulder. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
"Perhaps you should cross it now, so that Samuel knows what to expect."
"Jack," Samuel said with a frosty glare.
Jack held up his hands. "I think Mr. Myer should know that if anything happens to you, I'll come after him."
Samuel rolled his eyes. "Have you mistaken me for Hannah?"
"Are you threatening me, Mr. Langley?" Myer asked mildly.
"I'm merely warning you," Jack said.
"And what will you do if I harm your friend?"
Jack appealed to Samuel. "Are you hearing this?"
"Gentlemen," I said. "Enough. This is supposed to be an enjoyable evening."
Myer held up his hands. "I apologize, Miss Smith. Of course, you're right. I do want to assure you both that no harm will come to Mr. Gladstone. My only weapon is my hypnosis and he's immune. As are you, Mr. Langley." The pointed accusation wasn't lost on any of us.
Jack grunted and said nothing. Samuel too remained quiet. It was left to me to fill the silence.
"Are you and Mrs. Myer enjoying the ball?" I asked.
"My wife couldn't attend," he said. "Regrettably, she was feeling unwell."
"Oh. I, uh, I see." I cleared my throat and couldn't look him in the eyes. Was his wife truly feeling unwell or had he hypnotized her into staying home? I couldn't believe anything he said anymore in regards to her motivations.
"She suffers from a nervous constitution in crowded spaces. In many other ways, she's a strong woman, but in that she's weak. Social events distress her."
"You should remove her concerns under hypnosis," Samuel said.
"Will that help her overcome her nervousness?" I asked.
"Yes," both Myer and Samuel said.
"Dr. Werner's practice focused on helping ladies suffering from nervous constitutions and hysteria," Samuel added. "There are good applications for our ability, Hannah."
"Yes, of course. I didn't mean to imply otherwise." I set my teacup on the table beside me, and accidentally knocked the glass full of punch. It wobbled precariously, but before I could steady it, Jack was there. He righted it without a drop having been spilled.
"Thank you," I said as he sat back down.
He wasn't looking at me, however, but at Myer. Myer stared back at him, his mouth agape. He scooted forward on his chair and pointed a finger at Jack.
"Mr. Langley…" he began. He shook his finger and smiled curi
ously. "Mr. Langley, you were fast. Indeed, you were so fast that you saved the punch in the time it took me to blink."
I bit my lip. Jack became still. Only the Frakingham residents and the Beauforts knew of his unnatural speed. Indeed, even Jack seemed to have been unaware of how fast he was until I'd pointed it out to him. It had been a godsend while fighting the demons, but it only deepened the mystery surrounding him.
Now Myer knew. A man we couldn't trust. A man with an interest in the supernatural.
"It was nothing," Jack said with a shrug. "Yes, I'm a little quicker than most—"
"A little quicker? Ha! Mr. Langley, I can assure you, no man is as fast as that." Myer slid forward even further on his seat so that he was in danger of sliding off. "Will you permit me to time you?"
Jack laughed. "Mr. Myer, there is nothing odd in my speed. It's within normal limits."
"I beg to differ." Myer continued to shake his finger at Jack. "The speed, coupled with your immunity to hypnosis…Mr. Langley, forgive me, but what are you?"
"He's a freak," Samuel said, smiling. "Like the rest of us."
"I'm just a man," Jack snapped. His eyes flashed like two hard gemstones in the light. "Gladstone, shut it. You're not helping."
"Mr. Gladstone may be onto something," Myer said. "Mr. Langley, is your uncle studying you?"
"Of course not."
"Have you ever thought about subjecting yourself to study, either by him or…another?"
Jack gave a bitter laugh. "Meaning you? You heard what I think of Samuel studying with you, and yet you have the gall to ask me to subject myself to your tests. I don't think so, Mr. Myer."
"Why not? We may discover something about you that you didn't know. Or we may be able to hone your ability, make you faster."
"Why would I want to be faster?" He set his icy gaze on Myer. His face darkened, and I grew worried that he might unintentionally reveal his fire starting. If Myer thought him odd already, imagine what he'd think of that. "Listen to me. I'm not interested in being studied, either by you or anyone else. Neither is Hannah. All we want is to find a cure for her. Unless you can help, leave us alone."
Myer glanced at me and sat back in his chair. He seemed unperturbed by Jack's temper, although he changed the subject. "You appear more fatigued tonight, Miss Smith. Hotter too."
"My health is the same as the last time we met," I said. "It neither declines nor improves."
"I see. So have you gained any new knowledge about the demon summoner?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," Jack said, idly. Dangerously. "We discovered that the mayor of Harborough is likely involved."
"The mayor?"
Jack nodded. "You know his wife, I believe. Mrs. Butterworth."
Myer's eyes narrowed. A muscle in the corner of his mouth twitched, forming what could either be a smile or a grimace. "I don't believe I do."
"Now, Mr. Myer, it wouldn't be in your best interests to lie to us."
"Agreed," Samuel said. "I won't be staying with you if you continue down that path, Myer. We know you and Mrs. Butterworth had…assignations."
Myer's face colored. He stretched his neck as if his collar were too tight. "The lady herself told you that?"
"We don't break confidences," Jack said.
"If she did, then she was lying."
"Stop it!" I slammed my hands down on the chair's arms. I was tired, irritated and so frustrated by this evasive man. "Stop it, Mr. Myer. Stop the lies. Stop it all. We know about you and Mrs. Butterworth. We know that you hypnotized her in her own home. I hope to God that she agreed to the assignations. If she did not, Jack and Samuel here will have to show you what it's like to feel vulnerable and at another's mercy." The heat rose within me, swirling and boiling and aching. Stay calm, Hannah.
"It wasn't against her will!" he cried. "I can assure you of that." Tiny beads of sweat popped out on his brow, and his hands twisted in his lap, over and over. "She wanted to be with me, but had reservations. I told her I could allay her fears, and she gave me permission to hypnotize her. That's all."
I wasn't sure if I believed him or not. It sounded plausible, yet I didn't trust him. He was too slippery. "We'll ask her ourselves. If her story confirms yours, you'll be spared. If not, you will regret it."
"And I'll return to Frakingham," Samuel said.
A footman entered, shattering the tension in the room. "I'm looking for a Mr. Myer," he said.
"I am he," Myer said, wiping his brow with his thumb.
The footman handed him a note and Myer unfolded it. "It's from my wife," he said, reading. "She's asking me to return home." He scrunched up the note and tossed it into the unlit fireplace.
I sat there in the armchair, shocked to my core. Not because of the note or its contents, but by what the footman had said. Myer. Yet he hadn't pronounced it the way I did, or Jack, or Samuel. His accent made the name sound like mayor.
Both Jack and Samuel had noticed too. They exchanged glances then stood as one. Samuel calmly closed the door and remained there, guarding the exit. Jack, much less calm, grabbed Myer's arm and jerked him to his feet.
"Mr. Langley! I protest."
"You're not allowed to protest," Jack snarled. "You lied to us."
Myer's eyes widened. He tried to pull free, but Jack held him. The physical difference between the two was marked. Jack was taller than Myer and broader across the shoulders. Everything about him screamed power and fury. Myer trembled, and he didn't even know Jack's full capabilities.
"You are the 'mayor' that the Widow Mott spoke of," I said.
"What are you talking about?" Myer asked, once more trying to pull free.
"Whether she couldn't read the signature on the letter you sent her husband, or whether we didn't understand her accent, it's clear to us now that you knew Mott. You employed him to summon the demon, not Mayor Butterworth." Hot blood pounded through my body in a raging torrent. Pain splintered inside my head and shot down my spine, along my limbs. Sparks burst from my fingertips onto the floor.
I stumbled backward and found the chair as my knees gave way. I sat and concentrated on my breathing, on calming myself and reducing the heat within me to bearable levels.
"Hannah?" Jack was at my side. His raw fear stared back at me.
"I'm all right." I managed to sound almost normal as the heat subsided. "I was angry." I checked the floor for evidence of burning, but there was none. Jack must have stamped out the sparks before they could catch the rug alight.
He passed me the glass of punch and helped me drink since my hands trembled too much to hold it.
"Continue with your questions," I said to Jack. "I'll be all right."
"Miss Smith," Myer began, but stopped. He stared at me, more curious than anything else.
"Yes?" I prompted.
"I…I'm sorry. It troubles me to see such a pretty, vital young woman this way."
"Thank you," I said, meaning it. "Now answer Jack's questions."
To my surprise, he nodded. "Very well. You're right. I paid that man Mott to summon the demon."
"You sent him to a horrible death," Samuel snarled.
Myer crossed his legs and smoothed his trouser leg. "That wasn't meant to happen. The entire thing didn't go too well."
"That is an understatement," Jack said, standing by my side. "You'd better start at the beginning. Why did you want to summon a demon? What have we ever done to you?"
Myer held up his hands and shook his head vigorously. "This has nothing to do with you, Mr. Langley! Or anyone else at the house. You see, the Frakingham Abbey ruins contain strong supernatural energy. Energy that can be harvested, studied and perhaps put to use here in this realm."
"Is this a joke?" Samuel scoffed.
"No! Of course not. I treat the supernatural very seriously."
"What has the demon got to do with the energy at the ruins?" Jack asked.
"Demons are attracted to strong energy like that rumored to be at the ruins. I summoned it to observe its behavior ne
ar the abbey." He swallowed heavily. "That's all."
"That's all!" I cried. "You summoned a creature you couldn't control into this realm for no reason other than to study it?"
He held up his hands. "I hadn't expected to not be able to control it. I know about demons, Miss Smith. I'm well able to handle one."
"Then why didn't you?" Jack snapped.
"Because it consumed the mad spirits in your house."
"You mean those spirits of the children in the Frakingham dungeon?"
Myer nodded. "Summoning is not an exact science. The demons don't always appear where you want them to. That one fell into this realm in your dungeon and consumed those spirits. It became mad itself, and as such, I wasn't able to control it."
"So you simply left it and returned to London!" Samuel bit off. "Bloody hell. I cannot believe someone would do such a thing!"
"I didn't dare approach the house and search for the amulet. It was too dangerous."
"We're quite aware of how dangerous, thank you," I muttered. "We were prisoners within the house for days. People were hurt, Mr. Myer. Mott and our driver died. You should be ashamed of yourself."
"I am." He nodded. "I am very sorry. I sent money to the Widow Mott for her family. Anonymously, of course. I'll do the same for your driver."
"You think that compensates for the loss? Mrs. Mott is without a husband. Her children no longer have a father."
He burried his face in his hands. "I know. I'm deeply troubled. The experiment was a terrible failure. From what I could see, the demon showed no interest in the ruins. You were all closer to it. Did you see it go to the abbey?"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This man had very little conscience. He may have given Mrs. Mott money, but he seemed oblivious to the sorrow he'd wreaked on that family as well as others. He was blinded by the power of the supernatural. He was greedy for it, consumed by it, the way some are consumed by their desire for money.
"Is that all you can think of? You disgust me."
He nodded slowly without meeting my gaze. "You're right. I'll be sure to give Mrs. Mott more, and your driver's family too."
I sighed. He still didn't understand. I doubted he ever would.
