Page 14 of The Secret of the Three Fates
He blinked, surprised by the question. “I told you, I heard my uncle was here and I wanted to speak with him about Ben.”
“That doesn’t explain why you came to the séance.”
He bit his lower lip. “I’d not meant to go at all. I’d intended to slip over to Manhurst, speak with my uncle, and go home. My father, however… somehow he found out that Uncle was here, and he is like a dog with a bone. He wouldn’t leave it be.”
He had said last night that he’d not meant his father to come. The words came out on a breath. “You didn’t tell him about the séance.”
He let out a startled laugh. “God no. I expressly hid the papers from him. I know how badly my father hates Uncle Owen and I saw no sense furthering their quarrel. I cannot fathom who told him about the séance. As he’d left the house before I did, I had no choice but to attend, solely to keep him from skewering Uncle Owen in front of an audience. I love my father, Miss Vaughn, but I do not like him very much sometimes.”
My mind went back to the letter Mr. Owen had shown me before the séance. The invitation to speak with Ben. Perhaps Andrew’s father, Malachi, had received a similar one. “Do you think Lucy would have invited him? Like she did Mr. Owen?”
I had surprised him.
“Lucy sent for Uncle Owen?”
I almost regretted revealing it, but it was too late to recall the words. “She did. She told him Ben had a message for him. Do you have any idea what that message might be?”
He shook his head. “It’s hard to say with Lucy. She did as shepleased for decades. Most people around here gave her wide berth because of it. She was respected, aye, but feared.”
“Would anyone want her dead?”
“Not that I know of, but a woman who can speak to the dead? Who knows what secrets she might have uncovered along the way.” Andrew checked his watch and shot up, expression troubled. “Forgive me. I have somewhere I need to be.” And with that he disappeared, leaving me with a thousand questions hanging in the air like the very fog that refused to lift.
CHAPTERSEVENAn Unexpected Party Guest
SPEAKINGwith Andrew Lennox left me with even more questions than I had answers. I entered my room, unpinning my handsome olive-colored cloche and set it gently down on the dressing table. If I could determine why Lucy brought us all here, then perhaps I could understand who wanted her dead. Not that it was any of my business who killed her—I ought to leave it to the authorities, and yet I’d pulled her body from the lake.She wanted to tell me something.
And because of those two simple facts I could not let it rest.
I tugged off one calfskin glove, when I heard voices from the adjoining room. I walked over and opened it, half expecting to discover Captain Lennox chatting with Mr. Owen, but instead I froze on the spot, not believing my own eyes for the second time in as many days.
Ruan Kivell.
“What are you doing here?” We both spoke the words at the same time, staring at each other.
Ruan looked different from when I left him back in Cornwall, though his eyes remained the same—that pale green with the gray mark in the left.Partial heterochromia. I’d looked it up after we’dmet. Though having a name for it failed to make the effect any less arresting.
In truth, I’d spent far too much time digging around in ancient books looking for an explanation for both PellarsandRuan Kivell, all of which turned up fruitless. The man was a mystery—as was the uncanny connection between us.
“Ah yes. Ruby came along with me. Didn’t I tell you?” Mr. Owen asked as he slid something back across the table to Ruan. Quick as a flash, whatever it was disappeared into Ruan’s broad palm and was secured into his green waistcoat pocket. His hand lingered there, protecting the contents from my curious inspection.
“No,” Ruan grumbled. “You didn’t.” He did not look away from me, nor I him. The pair of us caught in some bizarre trance cataloguing the thousands of tiny changes that had occurred in the handful of weeks we’d been apart. He’d grown a beard and cut his dark curls. Instead of falling in a riot about his shoulders, or being pulled back into a knot, he now wore his hair above his collar and slicked back. It was an altogether gentlemanly look and I hated it—utterly despised the way such a simple thing as cutting his hair made him resemble all the other men of his age.
“You look well.” His voice was hoarse as his keen, witch’s eyes lingered on the scar above my brow—a wound he’d stitched with his own hands—before moving lower on my face, pocketing away every detail for further reflection.
“You do too…” My mouth grew dry with the dawning realization I’dmissedthe damnable man. Now that was unexpected.
With a sigh, I pulled my attention away from him, folding my arms beneath my chest in a failed attempt at disinterest. “What brings you here? I can’t imagine you’ve heard about the dead medium already.”
“I sent for him, lass. I needed some medicines—”
That familiar divot between Ruan’s brows appeared again. He’d been fretting—not an altogether unusual circumstance—as Ruanwas a great mother hen. Brooding and worrying for other people were some of his most endearing traits. Oh well, I suppose it didn’t matter why he was here. Only that he was.
Ruan smirked as his eyes met mine.
Damn. I guess he’d heard that. I’d have to remember to guard my thoughts around him. With Ruan near, none of them were private. While it ought to bother me that the man could hear the inner workings of my mind, it did not feel a violation. It felt… like for the first time in a very long time that I was a little less alone.
The corner of his mouth tugged up in response, and I struggled not to show him how much his unexpected arrival pleased me. “Have you told him about our problems here?” I asked Mr. Owen, kicking myself from the doorframe and walking deeper into the room.
