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Authors: Candace Camp

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BOOK: Mesmerized
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By the time he ushered Irina into the formal drawing room, Irina’s fingers were dug into her skirt, and she was fairly shrieking, “Why won’t you tell me what happened?”

“Your mother was not there, Miss Valenskaya.”

“Then what—”

“Stephen, what on earth is going on?” Lady St. Leger asked, rising from her seat.

He looked at her, and his face softened for a moment, “Mother, I—I am sorry to upset you, but I can no longer stand by and allow you to continue this nonsense. Someone is dead now, and—”

“Dead!” Lady St. Leger stared at him, her face paling, and Olivia moved quickly to her side. “You can’t—who? Madame Valenskaya?”

“No, it was not Madame Valenskaya.” He looked at Irina as he said, “It is Pamela.”

Olivia quickly took Lady St. Leger’s arm as she let out a gasp and swayed. Olivia tugged her down into the chair she had just recently vacated.

“But how—what happened to her?” Lady St. Leger asked faintly.

“I’m not sure. There wasn’t a mark on her. But I think it is safe to say that someone killed her.”

Stephen turned to Irina, his face implacable. She stared back at him, openmouthed, unable to move.

“I have said nothing about the absurd show you and your mother have been putting on—” he began.

“We have not—”

“Don’t bother!” Stephen snapped. “I haven’t time or patience for your games anymore. Pamela is dead now, and I will find out what happened. How did you come to latch on to my mother as the victim of your schemes?”

“I—I—” Irina opened and closed her mouth several times, looking at Stephen like a rabbit found in the open.

“Mother?” He swung around to Lady St. Leger. “How did you first meet Madame Valenskaya?”

Tears glittered in her eyes. “Stephen, how can you talk about such things at a time like this? Pamela is dead!”

Olivia took her ladyship’s hand in hers and squeezed it comfortingly. “I know it seems very hard, my lady, but Stephen is only trying to find out who hurt Pamela and why. He must.”

“But what does it have to do with Madame Valenskaya?”

“Surely you can see that it has everything to do with her,” Stephen told her. “Pamela was found with that treasure your medium kept harping about. I don’t think it was coincidence. Who introduced you to Madame Valenskaya?”

Tears flowed down Lady St. Leger’s cheeks, and she sniffled, wiping at them with her handkerchief. “I
met her at Lady Entwhistle’s. It was just a small dinner party.”

“Why did this Entwhistle woman invite you?”

“I—I don’t understand. She just sent me an invitation. I was a little surprised. I only know her slightly. I wasn’t inclined to go.”

“Why did you, then?”

“Pamela was terribly bored. And she persuaded me that it would do us both good to get out, and since it was such a small party, it would be perfectly all right, even though it had not been an entire year. So we went. Madame Valenskaya was there, and she was persuaded to hold a séance. It was so illuminating. I had never realized it was possible to speak to someone one had lost. She spoke straight to me. She said that I had lost someone dear to me. And the raps sounded out Roddy’s name.”

“Pamela.” Stephen’s jaw tightened. “That scarcely sounds like Pamela, to be interested in something like that.”

“Yes, I was a little surprised, too, I confess,” Lady St. Leger said. “But I think it was more that Pamela wanted to get out, you see.” She sighed waterily. “Poor girl. She was overbalanced by Roderick’s death. I had never thought she cared overmuch for him, frankly. She was a cold sort of woman. I shouldn’t say that about the dead, I know, but it is the truth. But after he died, she cried and cried for days.”

“I suspect it was more losing the status and fortune
of being Roderick’s wife than losing Roderick himself,” Stephen told her bluntly.

“Stephen! What a thing to say!” Lady St. Leger cried.

“It is the truth, and we both know it. But I have no intention of letting whoever killed her get away with it. Whatever her faults, Pamela did not deserve to die.” He swung back to Irina, barking, “Was Pamela in on your scheme? Did she help you lure Lady St. Leger into your trap?”

Irina shrank back from him. “No! I—”

“Stephen! What are you saying?” Lady St. Leger cried.

“I think Miss Valenskaya knows,” Stephen said grimly. “Did you know Pamela before you met my mother?”

“Lady Pamela!” Irina squeaked out, her hands writhing in her skirts. “How could I?”

“I don’t know how! That is what I’m trying to find out. Why was Pamela killed, clutching the Martyrs’ treasure? Was she stealing it? Or was your mother? Or you? Which one of you killed her?”

“Stephen!” Lady St. Leger exclaimed, shocked. “You cannot mean—”

“I can. I do. Miss Valenskaya, I don’t know where your mother went, but it seems obvious that she disappeared because she knew Pamela was dead. The likely reason is that she herself killed her.”

“No!” Irina took an involuntary step backward. “Mother would never—” She licked her lips ner
vously and cast an imploring look at Lady St. Leger. “Please, my lady, tell him….”

“Enough!” Stephen roared. “I am done with these charades. I will turn you over to the constable when he gets here—and your mother, too, whenever we find her. Perhaps a night in gaol will help you to realize—”

“All right!” Irina cried, trembling all over. “I will tell you! I never hurt Lady Pamela! I barely even spoke to her!” She brought her hands up to her face. “I never—she talked to my mother. I don’t know how they met, but she came to us. She was angry about how little money she had. She said that the St. Legers had cheated her, that after all she had done, she had been left penniless.”

“Penniless!” Lady St. Leger looked indignant. “Why, Roderick left her a very generous amount of money, everything that was not entailed. He could have done no more!”

“She said she was being punished because she had not borne any children. And she kept on about this box.”

“The Martyrs’ treasure?”

Irina nodded. “Mother was content with doing the usual sort of thing, the rappings and harps hanging in the air and all that, getting gifts from Lady St. Leger. She was quite happy to be invited to stay here and enjoy the earl’s generosity, of course. But Pamela wanted that treasure. She could talk of nothing else—how her husband had kept it from her, how he had
refused to let her have any of the jewelry. She said he had kept it hidden from her and wouldn’t even tell her how to get into the place where he kept it. She came up with this scheme to pry the box away from you. She was sure that even if Stephen didn’t want to give it to us, he would eventually do it because he wouldn’t want Lady St. Leger to be unhappy. She said that even if you would not give the box up, with all the talk about the jewels, you would be bound to at least go there to look at them. She had never been able to catch the first Lord St. Leger going to where they were stored and taking them out. She thought she could keep an eye on you and—”

“And catch me opening the secret room!” Stephen exclaimed, and his eyes flew to Olivia. “That must be what she did. The day that you and I went in there, she must have been watching, and we didn’t notice.”

“I should have known she was up to something!” Irina exclaimed, bitterness tingeing her voice. “There was this smug look to her the last few days. She must have found it and didn’t even tell us. She was going to take it all for herself.”

“Until someone stopped her,” Olivia said quietly.

Irina looked alarmed. “It wasn’t me, my lady! I never knew she’d found the box, let alone that she was planning to steal it.”

“I suppose not,” Stephen agreed. “I rather think it was your mother.”

“Mama? No!” Irina wrung her hands together. “You don’t understand. It couldn’t have been.
Mother would never—” She stopped, looking around her uncertainly. Then she straightened, lifting her chin, her hands clenching into fists at her side. “I don’t believe you!” she cried defiantly. “Mama has not killed anyone. Something terrible has happened to her, I just know it!”

She burst into tears after that, and, covering her face with her hands, she ran from the room.

Stephen watched her go, then turned toward Lady St. Leger. “Mother, I am so sorry.”

Lady St. Leger’s eyes swam with tears. “I have been a fool, haven’t I?”

“No, not a fool,” Olivia assured her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Many people have been deceived by people such as Madame Valenskaya and her daughter.”

“I thought Roddy was talking to me.” The older woman’s mouth trembled. “I wanted it so much, I made myself believe it.” She looked up at her son. “You tried to tell me, and I wouldn’t listen. Both of you did. And now Pamela’s dead, and all because I brought those people here.”

“It is not your fault that Pamela died,” Stephen said firmly. “Pamela died through her own greed. I don’t know who killed her, but I am sure that it stemmed from the fact that she was stealing the Martyrs’ treasure.”

Lady St. Leger sighed. “Nevertheless, I cannot help but wish that I had never invited Madame Val
enskaya here.” She rose slowly. “I think I will go to my room now.”

“Let me help you,” Olivia offered, walking with her toward the door.

Lady St. Leger smiled at her. “Thank you, my dear. You are very sweet. It is no wonder that Stephen is head over heels about you. We must go see to Belinda. No doubt she will be quite distressed.”

She curled her hand around the crook of Olivia’s arm and walked from the room, her pace slow but her head held high.

 

Irina gained the sanctuary of her room and closed the door after her, turning the key in the door. She relaxed, and her face changed, losing its distress and turning cooler, harder. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with her hands and began to pace the room.

“Where the devil are you, Mother?” she muttered to herself.

It had been a shock when Lord St. Leger told her that Lady Pamela was dead, but she was certain that her mother had not killed the woman. She had, she thought, managed to convey her own loyalty to her mother yet evidence that little touch of doubt at the same time. She needed, after all, someone else to take the blame if St. Leger and his constable should decide that it was Irina herself who had taken Pamela’s life. Irina didn’t know how Pamela had died, but she thought that it served her right for trying to steal the treasure right out from under their eyes.

Imagine! It wasn’t hers, anyway. Like everything else here, it belonged to
him.

Irina had never been very concerned about her mother’s whereabouts. She had felt sure that the old woman, scared as a rabbit after the séance last night, had simply taken off, hoping to hide her departure for a few hours by leaving her things behind. It had been all Irina could do to hold her here the past few days, anyway. Ever since Babington had fallen into that seizure, she had been terrified.

Irina had put on the act of confusion and distress about her mother’s disappearance simply because the others would have found it most bizarre if she had not, and also to buy herself some time. She needed to remain longer at Blackhope, and St. Leger would scarcely have wanted her to if she told him that Madame Valenskaya had simply fled from sheer terror.

But now, of course, with Pamela’s death, everything had changed. She had had to reveal their duplicity to St. Leger, and of course he would not allow her to remain now. Even Lady St. Leger would not want her in the house. Right to the end, Pamela had proved to be a thorn in Irina’s side.

Pamela had only been after money, of course, as had her mother, but Irina knew herself to be different. She had a larger purpose, and she must stay to see it out.

The problem, of course, was how to do it. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing for guidance.
He
was here, yet she could not speak to him, ask him what to do.

She brought out her cards and began to shuffle them, then laid them out, hoping for answers. They were difficult to read today, as sometimes happened. There was
his
card, of course, the Magician, and the Tower, as well, signifying destruction. There would be, she was certain, the result he was hoping for, but what she wanted was answers to what she should do, and the cards were hazy on that topic.

Outside in the corridor, she heard now and then the sounds of people moving and talking. The constable would have come, no doubt, and she had little desire to meet him. The best thing she could do was to stay here, out of sight. The less St. Leger or any of the others thought about her, the better.

Hours passed, and she moved restlessly about the room. It had grown quite silent in the hall. Finally, unable to wait any longer, she opened the door and looked into the hallway. There was no one there. She was tempted to slip down to the room where Pamela’s body had been found. It had been there that the golden casket had been kept. Perhaps there…

But, no, she knew it would be futile. St. Leger would doubtless have placed someone there to guard the door. It was even possible that the constable or doctor was still there. Instead, she walked across the hall to Babington’s room.

One of the maids sat beside his bed, working on some mending, and she looked up at her entrance.

BOOK: Mesmerized
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