The Earl's Irresistible Challenge

‘That is how I remember what connects with what. It helps me think.’

‘If your mind looks anything like this wall, heaven help you.’

‘Did you come here to insult me or was there some other purpose to breaking into my house?’

‘I didn’t break, I entered through the area door. You really should have a locksmith install something more reliable than those ancient locks, you know. Your guest is arriving at five o’clock, you said?’ He proceeded along the wall and she resisted the urge to tear down her lists before he could read them. She would only look ridiculous and, besides, she wanted him to see them. If he had been intrigued enough to come today, perhaps this would snare him further.

‘Yes. I was preparing the room for her. Are you here to stop me?’

‘No.’

‘Why are you here, then?’

‘Curiosity. I’ve never attended an occultist’s meeting. I am expanding my horizons.’

He reached the part of the wall dedicated to his father and she tensed, waiting. It was emptier than Henry Payton’s side, but even the meagre amount of information about his death Mercer uncovered for her was likely to anger him. But he said nothing and after a moment he moved towards the desk.

‘More lists? Famous occultists... Who is Madame Bulgari?’

‘I am. Gypsy Sue helped me think of the name, she said people are impressed by foreign airs, but the rest I gathered from books.’

He took a book from the desk, his brows rising as he flipped through the pages. ‘Communication with the Other Side. Wasn’t Baron Lyttelton a Member of Parliament?’

‘I have no idea. Please don’t lose my place.’

‘Pericles? Christina, Queen of Sweden? A select grouping.’ He tossed the book down and took another. ‘And what is this tome about? The Forbidden Secrets of Occultism by Madame Volgatskaya? That sounds a little more entertaining, though Madame Vulgar would be more appropriate by all the gilt on this binding. I am beginning to think Madame Bulgari an excellent choice of moniker.’

She plucked the book from his hands. ‘If you came to poke fun at me, you may leave. I have work to do.’

‘Work?’

She didn’t wait to see if he would follow. He might be as flippant as he liked, but she knew the pitfalls of curiosity too well not to recognise a fellow sufferer of that malady.

Back in the parlour she drew closed the thick velvet curtains, casting the room into a gloom that would be near absolute by late afternoon when Marcia Pendle arrived. The candles and incense were prepared and she lit the fire so it would calm by the time the magic began. She needed just a hint of light and enough heat to spread the scents Gypsy Sue recommended. She marked the item on her list and continued: tinderboxes, brandy...

‘I don’t know which room is more disturbing, this parlour or your spider’s lair of a study. The study by a narrow margin, I think,’ he commented behind her.

‘Why is that?’

‘Because this is clearly for show, that room is in earnest.’

She shrugged. Votive candles. Bergamot oil. Present.

‘Did the otherworldly Mrs Volgatskaya inspire this decor? What are these scarves for? Do you perform a dance?’

‘No, I bind unwary visitors and sacrifice them to the dark lords.’

‘No, thank you. I’ve never had to resort to binding anyone to get what I want, certainly not women.’

She looked up from her list, her mouth curving into a smile despite her attempts to keep it prim.

‘You are rather vain, aren’t you, Lord Sinclair?’

He slid a scarf through his hands, his fingers skimming the shimmering fabric absently and his smile answering hers.

‘Am I? I wouldn’t call it vanity, precisely.’

Don’t pander to him, Olivia.

‘What would you call it, then? And don’t say “experience”, that would merely confirm my point.’

‘I won’t call it anything at all, then. So, what happens next?’

‘Next you leave.’

He pulled a chair from the table and sat down in clear disregard for conventions of politeness, still tugging the scarf idly between his hands. The hiss of silk as it slipped through his fingers tingled upwards from her feet, travelling like smoke over her skin. She could feel the warmth it picked up in the friction against his flesh, mirroring on the softness between her own fingers, a faint burning, spreading to her palms like the singe of acid. She held herself back from snatching the scarf away from him.

‘Do you really want me to leave, Olivia?’

Her name sounded like smoke and silk as well and she had to breathe in before she could speak. She was losing her footing again which was probably precisely what he wanted. The object of that subterranean rumble of heat was no doubt to soften her, make her pliable to his manipulations. That was all.

‘Miss Silverdale,’ she amended. The scarf paused for a moment before resuming its tormenting progress.

‘So. Do you want me to leave, Miss Olivia Silverdale?’

‘If you are here to help me, you may stay. But I don’t need you here if all you plan to do is poke fun at me,’ she said and he tossed the scarf on to the table. The sultry warmth was gone, confirming her suspicions, but she felt no victory at withstanding his charm.

‘I don’t find obsessions particularly amusing, Miss Silverdale. I am not here to help you, but to ensure you don’t do damage to my concerns with your rather colourful methods. My family name has been dragged through enough mud and we don’t need any help from outsiders in adding to our infamy.’

‘You said you weren’t here to prevent my meeting.’

‘I’m not. I am here to...oversee. I will be in the next room, listening as you do your occultist’s best to extract gold from Marcia Pendle, so keep that in mind as you delve. When you are done I want you to make it clear to her that her spectral friend will be taking an extended trip on the other side and will no longer be available to your summons. So have her make her tearful farewells and send her back to Catte Street. Permanently.’

‘I believe I told you I don’t enjoy being threatened, Lord Sinclair.’

‘I sympathise. I’m not fond of the feeling myself. So now we understand each other.’

‘I am not threatening you, I am merely trying to uncover—’

‘Yes, I understood you the first time, Miss Silverdale. You should consider it a serious concession that I am allowing even this meeting to take place. You take another step down this path without my knowledge and I move from threats to actions. Am I clear?’

‘To be fair, I did inform you of this step.’

‘Don’t split hairs.’

‘Out of curiosity, what actions are you contemplating?’

Some of the severity faded from his eyes.