Page 106 of Affair

Juliana gripped the lapels of her wrapper. She stared into the flames. “Malcolm hated his voice. He said it was an outrage that he had been stricken in that manner.”

Baxter watched Juliana for a moment. “I spoke with my brother today. He confirmed that the so-called magician who amuses the members of The Green Table club possesses a voice that is unusually harsh.”

Charlotte looked at him. “According to the person I interviewed this morning, so did the man who killed Drusilla Heskett. And the man in the black domino who spoke to me last night at the masquerade ball also had a strange, rough voice.”

“Bloody hell,” Baxter muttered. “Why did you not tell me all this?”

“There has been no opportunity.”

“It must be Malcolm,” Juliana whispered. “He established The Green Table club and lured young men of important families into it. It was all part of his plan.”

“What is this grand scheme?” Baxter asked. “Is he out to destroy the gentlemen of the club?”

“Destroy them?” Juliana appeared genuinely startled. “Of course not. Why on earth would he do such a thing?”

Light glinted on the lenses of Baxter’s spectacles. “Some people will go to great lengths to gain revenge. If this magician harbors some grudge against the young men he enticed into the club, he might have thought to arrange their deaths through the use of mesmerism. This morning I witnessed how such a murder could take place.”

“You are correct on one count,” Juliana admitted. “Malcolm has no love for high-ranking gentlemen of the ton. He scorns the lot. But I do not believe he intended to kill any of them. If I had thought that murder was his goal, I would never have agreed to help him.”

“What, precisely, is his goal?” Charlotte asked gently.

“He seeks wealth and power. He claims that by rights he should have possessed both at birth. The fact that he was denied his heritage is a source of great anguish and rage to him.” Juliana hesitated. “Because of my own circumstances, I understood the depth of his feelings on the subject.”

“Yes, of course.” Baxter’s hand clamped around the mantelpiece. “It all becomes clear now. He thought to control the new generation of young, powerful lords through the use of mesmerism and the drugging incense.”

Juliana nodded and dabbed at her eyes with the edge of her wrapper. “He has studied Dr. Mesmer’s work and that of many others who have experimented with animal magnetism. He has perfected the techniques of inducing a trance. He uses the incense to facilitate the operation.”

Charlotte’s palms were suddenly damp. “Baxter, what happened at dawn this morning was indeed a test, was it not?”

“Yes, the ultimate test of the magician’s control over his subjects.” Baxter removed his eyeglasses and shook out his handkerchief. “No wonder Hamilton and the others could not locate him when they sought to make him break the trance. He had no intention of calling off his experiment before he got the results.”

Charlotte was awed by the implications. “If he proved that he could use his techniques to send a young man to his death, he would know that he had achieved the degree of power he sought.”

“I do not know what you witnessed this morning,” Juliana said with an air of desperation. “But I am certain that Malcolm does not intend to murder all the young bloods of the ton.”

“I believe you.” Baxter methodically polished his eyeglasses. “This morning’s work was simply an experiment, as I said. I suspect that his ultimate goal is to control the gentlemen of The Green Table after they come into their titles and estates. He was obviously willing to sacrifice one of his subjects in order to prove that he had accomplished his objectives.”

“Just think of what he might be able to do if he could put a number of wealthy, powerful gentlemen into such strong trances,” Charlotte said. “He could use his skills to make them do anything he wished. He could control their investments, their political opinions, their very lives.”

“Indeed.” Baxter slipped his spectacles back into place. The gold flames in his eyes flared. “And in so doing, his own power would be almost unlimited.”

Juliana’s mouth trembled. “Malcolm was born a bastard. He could not abide the whims of a cruel fate that had left a man of his intellect and strength of will forever barred from his fortune and society’s most powerful inner circles.”

“So he sought to shape his own destiny,” Charlotte said slowly.

Baxter frowned. “What is this about destiny?”

“On the night of the masquerade ball Malcolm Janner asked me if I believed in destiny.” In spite of the fire, Charlotte found the parlor cold. “I recall his words quite clearly because someone else once said something very similar to me.”

Juliana dried her eyes. “Malcolm often spoke of destiny. He felt he had a great one, you see. That was one of the things he wished to have verified whenever I read the cards. I was always careful to make certain that he got the fortune he wanted. I feared the effect on his spirits if the cards predicted an ill outcome.”

“Bloody hell.” Baxter’s voice was so soft that Charlotte barely heard him. “It’s not possible. The man is dead.”

“Who is dead?” Charlotte asked quickly.

Baxter closed one hand into a fist on top of the cold marble mantel. “I will explain later.”

Charlotte hesitated, wanting to pursue the matter. But she could tell from the shuttered look in Baxter’s eyes that he did not intend to say anything more in front of Juliana.

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