Page 84 of The Paid Companion

Arthur wandered over to the nearest window and looked out into the perfectly manicured gardens as though whatever he saw out there fascinated him.

“Then you remember my great-uncle, Glentworth and Treyford?” he said.

“Very well, indeed.” Lady Wilmington raised the fingers of one hand to the gold locket at her throat. “They were all dedicated to science. They lived for their experiments the way painters and sculptors live for their art.” She lowered her hand, smiling sadly. “But they are all gone now. The last one to pass on was Glentworth. I understand your great-uncle was killed by a house burglar a few weeks ago, sir. My condolences.”

“I do not believe that he was murdered by an ordinary thief he chanced to encounter in the course of a burglary,” Arthur said evenly. “I am certain that he was killed by someone connected to the old days when the gentlemen of the Society of the Stones frequented your Wednesday salons.”

He still appeared to be fixed on some sight outside in the gardens, but Elenora was watching their hostess closely. She noticed the tiny tremor that went through Lady Wilmington’s shoulders as Arthur delivered his flat conclusion. Once again her fingers brushed against the locket.

“Impossible,” Lady Wilmington said. “How can that be?”

“I do not have the answer to that question yet, but I intend to find it.” Arthur turned slowly to face her. “My great-uncle is not the only victim of this villain. I believe that Glentworth’s death was no accident, either. I am convinced that the same man killed both of them, and my former butler as well.”

“Good heavens, sir.” Lady Wilmington’s voice quivered. Her teacup rattled when she put it down on the saucer. “I don’t know what to say. That is... that is unbelievable. Your butler, too, you say? But why would anyone kill him?”

“To silence him after gaining information from him.”

Lady Wilmington shook her head once as though to clear it. “About what, pray tell?”

“My inquiries into George Lancaster’s murder, of course. The killer is aware now that I am hunting him. He wished to discover what I had learned thus far.” Arthur’s jaw tightened. “Which is not much. Certainly not worth a man’s death.”

“Indeed not.” Lady Wilmington shuddered.

“But this villain is not thinking in a wholly rational manner,” Arthur told her. “I believe he killed my great-uncle and Glentworth to obtain the red stones set into their snuffboxes.”

Lady Wilmington frowned. “I recall those extraordinary gems very well. Quite fascinating. Treyford felt that they were unusually dark rubies, but Glentworth and Lancaster believed that they had been crafted in ancient times from some sort of unique glass.”

“Did you ever see my great-uncle’s lapidary?” Arthur asked. “The one he brought back from Italy along with the stones?”

“Yes, indeed.” She sighed wistfully. “What of it?”

“I believe the villain we are hunting is sufficiently mad as to believe that he can build the infernal device described in theBook of Stones,” Arthur said.

Lady Wilmington stared at him, momentarily openmouthed with astonishment.

“Surely not,” she finally said with great conviction. “That is absolute nonsense. I cannot believe that even a madman would take the instructions in that old book seriously.”

Arthur looked back at her over his shoulder. “Did the three men ever discuss the machine?”

“Yes, of course.” Lady Wilmington collected herself. Her voice steadied. “The lapidary named it Jove’s Thunderbolt. We discussed the device on several occasions. Treyford and the others actually tried to construct it. But in the end, they all concluded that it could never be made to function.”

“What caused them to be so certain of that?” Elenora asked.

Lady Wilmington massaged her temples with the fingers of one hand. “I do not recall all of the details. Something to do with the difficulty of applying the energy of an intense fire into the heart of the stones in order to excite the latent energy of the gems. They all agreed in the end that there was no way to accomplish that task.”

“I am aware that my great-uncle came to that conclusion,” Arthur said. “But are you sure that Glentworth and Treyford did also?”

“Yes.” A faraway expression flickered in Lady Wilmington’s eyes. Once again she touched her locket in a fleeting gesture as though seeking comfort while she looked into the past. “Mind you, it was fashionable in those days for some who were consumed by the study of science and mathematics to flirt with the occult. In some circles the dark arts continue to fascinate even the most well-educated minds today. No doubt that will prove to be true in the future as well.”

Elenora watched her closely. “It is said that the great Newton himself was fascinated with the occult and devoted many years to the serious study of alchemy.”

“Indeed,” Lady Wilmington stated firmly. “And if a mind that brilliant can be seduced by the dark arts, who can blame a lesser mortal for falling prey to such intriguing mysteries?”

“Do you think that Glentworth or Treyford might have continued to secretly pursue such researches after they had all agreed to abandon alchemy?” Arthur asked.

Lady Wilmington blinked and straightened her shoulders. When she turned to Arthur she was clearly back in the present.

“I cannot imagine that for a moment, sir. They were, after all, highly intelligent, educated men of the modern age. They were not real alchemists, for heaven’s sake.”

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