Page 78 of Mesmerized

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.

Irina smiled at the woman. “I will sit with Mr. Babington for a while. You may go. I will call you when I need you again.”

“Yes, miss. Thank you, miss.” The maid got up, putting her mending back into the bag by her chair. “Isn’t it terrible about Lady St. Leger?”

“Mmm. Dreadful.”

The girl gave a dramatic shudder, then bobbed a curtsy and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Irina went to stand beside the bed, looking down at the still form of Howard Babington. Her lip curled in contempt. What a puny, incompetent nothing the man was! It irked her to think of all the time and effort she had wasted seducing him.

She laid her hands flat on his chest, saying, “You were too weak a vessel, alas. There was not enough strength in you to house my dark lover, was there? I should have chosen a better man. You were unworthy of such a powerful presence. But how am I to get him back now?”

She let her head fall back, her eyes closing, as she said, “Come to me now, my love. My dark prince. Fill this unworthy body again and let me know you.”

She began to chant, ancient, secret words falling from her lips. The air around her grew cold, and the sound of a great wind filled the room, though nothing stirred.

Irina stiffened, stretching up on her tiptoes, then jerked violently and fell hard onto her knees. She knelt for a long moment, recovering herself. Slowly she rose and gazed about the room. Her face was different from before, her eyes cold and hard as stones.

Her voice, when she spoke, came out a low, rusty growl. “I will have what is mine.”

She turned and walked back to her room, going to a drawer in her dresser. She shoved aside the lacy underthings, going to the leather scabbard that lay beneath. She slid out a knife from the scabbard, and it gleamed. A smile as cold as death lifted her lips.

“I will have what is mine,” she repeated, and put the knife back in its scabbard, shoving it up the sleeve of her dress.

Then she turned and walked out the door.

Chapter Fifteen

OLIVIA WALKED INTO Stephen’s study, and he looked up and smiled at her. Then he stood up, came around his desk and pulled her into his arms, laying a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“You are an angel to look after Mother and Belinda,” he said.

“It is no hardship. I am fond of them,” Olivia replied, stepping back.

“How are they doing?”

“I think they will be fine. Belinda has had some hard knocks this week, but she is young and resilient. It will take Lady St. Leger more time. She blames herself for setting the whole thing in motion by bringing Madame Valenskaya here, and she feels much taken in, I fear.”