Page 130 of Affair

“Such an incredible chain of events,” Ariel said. “Who could have imagined how it would end?”

“Indeed.” Hamilton chuckled. “The magician must have been stunned when he realized that his machinations had drawn his old nemesis, Baxter, into his sphere.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Charlotte hoisted her large reticule onto a workbench. “I rather think he viewed Baxter’s part in the affair as yet another manifestation of his so-called destiny.”

Hamilton raised his brows. “Perhaps it was.”

Ariel looked intrigued by that notion. “Indeed. I have been thinking about something Charlotte mentioned the day she rescued Juliana Post. She said she noticed that the death card had fallen faceup on the floor. Miss Post claimed that she always gave the magician the fortune he wished to hear. But on that day, she unwittingly read him his true fate.”

Rosalind’s eyes widened. “I vow, it gives one shivers, does it not?”

Baxter scowled. “What bloody nonsense. Miss Post told us herself that she didn’t draw that card. It must have got accidentally flipped over by the hem of her robes when he picked her up and carried her to the sofa.”

Hamilton narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps it was not entirely an accident.”

“It would seem a bit difficult to blame such an omen on mere coincidence,” Rosalind agreed with relish.

“The entire affair positively reeks of a mysterious hand from the metaphysical realm,” Ariel declared.

Maryann was clearly fascinated. “Quite odd, all of it.”

“Enough,”Baxter roared. “The situation was no more than the result of a logical progression of events.”

“What do you mean?” Ariel asked.

It was Charlotte who answered. “Baxter’s right in one sense. There is a certain logical inevitability about events in the affair. After all, Morgan Judd must have realized that he was setting certain wheels in motion when he allowed Hamilton into The Green Table club.”

Maryann frowned. “Why do you say that?”

Charlotte looked at her. “Judd must have known that when he involved Hamilton in his grand scheme, he was certain to attract Baxter’s attention sooner or later. If you ask me, some part of his obsessive nature could not resist taking the risk. I suspect that, deep inside, he wanted Baxter to know that he had survived Italy. He wanted to gloat, to prove that he was the more clever of the Two Alchemists. And he wanted to exact revenge.”

“I see.” Hamilton tipped his head slightly to the side as he considered that. “I can well comprehend that Judd may have wished to demonstrate his superiority. But why would he assume that Baxter would give a bloody damn about what happened to me?”

Charlotte smiled wryly. “Oh, I’m certain it never occurred to him that Baxter would try to extricate you from The Green Table club, let alone save your friend Norris. Judd assumed that Baxter had destroyed his own soul with resentment and anger just as he himself had done. But he knew that he could use you to get Baxter’s attention and that was what he wanted.”

“Even though Baxter was a possible threat to his plans?” Rosalind asked.

“He intended to kill Baxter after he had demonstrated his cleverness.” Charlotte gave a small shrug. “Judd was his own worst enemy. His arrogance and bitterness and cruel nature created a devil’s brew within him that was more virulent than any acid.”

Rosalind grew thoughtful. “So, one way or another, Baxter would have wound up in the middle of the affair even had I not asked him to investigate Drusilla’s death.”

“Quite right,” Charlotte said. “And I had no choice but to get involved because Mrs. Heskett had been a client. I had to determine if her death had, indeed, been at the hands of one of the suitors I had investigated.” She grinned at Baxter. “The only part of this whole thing that could even remotely be termed a coincidence occurred at the very beginning when I suddenly found myself in need of a new man-of-affairs.”

“And Baxter applied for the post,” Rosalind concluded.

Baxter tossed aside his duster. “Even had she not been in the market for a man-of-affairs, I would have made contact with her one way or another. The trail from Mrs. Heskett’s death led to her.”

Hamilton waggled his brows and lowered his voice to a sepulchral tone. “Fate or a logical progression of events. Who can decide?”

“I can bloody well decide,” Baxter said forcefully. “And I say there is not one event in this entire matter that cannot be accounted for by logic. And that is the end of the discussion. I want all of you out of this laboratory immediately. Begone.”

“You heard him,” Hamilton said cheerfully. “We are no longer wanted. Let us be off.”

Baxter was briefly gratified. He watched the entire lot turn toward the door. Then he realized that Charlotte, too, was preparing to leave.

“Bloody hell, not you, Charlotte. I wish to have a word with you.”

She paused to give him a polite, inquiring look.

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