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  "We must find out," Jacob said. "We need to know if Alwyn got to him."

  "You think he would dig into Cara's family tree to find him?" Samuel asked.

  "It would have been easy enough, if one knows the right channels to investigate. If you think about it, François is the logical choice for Alwyn to target. He's Cara's nearest relation and he was kept in a minimum security wing at Bethlem. Alwyn could easily have found a way inside and ended François's life, perhaps making it look like the frail, elderly patient had died of natural causes."

  "Oh God." I needed to sit down. Thankfully Emily and Charity steered me into the sitting room off the hall. Emily rang for refreshments while the others fussed over me, ensuring I was comfortable.

  "It's not your fault," Charity told me. "Do you understand, Cara? You cannot blame yourself."

  I nodded. I knew that, of course. And yet it sickened me to think that a simple fool like François could have been killed because of his link to me.

  "That's if it was Alwyn," Jacob added. "I'll go to Bethlem and find out more. I need to make arrangements anyway. Gladstone, keep searching for Alwyn."

  "I'll leave immediately."

  "Emily, stay inside."

  "Rest assured, we're not going anywhere," she said. "None of us."

  The men departed just as tea was brought in. We ladies sat in silence, each of us lost to our own thoughts. Mine were not centered on the memories of my father, or on Alwyn himself, but on Quin and a single question I'd been asking myself over and over since I'd realized Alwyn might have killed François. Finally, I could stand it no longer. I had to ask the others for their opinion.

  "Do you think this situation is important enough to summon Quin?"

  The weighty silence was enough of an answer. Their sympathetic gazes only hammered it home. Emily set down her cup and took my hand in hers.

  "Cara, this is not an otherworldly matter." Her gentle eyes searched mine. "In answer to your question, no I don't think it's important enough."

  "Would he even be allowed to come?" Charity asked. "The administrators might forbid it if there was no reason for the summons."

  "I know. You're right, of course." I let the matter rest there, unable and unwilling to give voice to my thoughts. They both knew anyway—I simply wanted to see Quin again.

  The only logical thing we could do was wait. So we waited, something the three of us weren't particularly good at. We occupied ourselves with the children until Jacob's return later that day. He carried a box with him. Packed inside were my father's meager belongings. A comb, a clean white shirt, a brown cap, a book of hymns with a stiff spine, and a necklace made out of small bones.

  "I'll send this to Louis," I said, inspecting the necklace. François had worn it under his shirt, hidden from view. "He ought to have it, since he was François's only son."

  "The only one we know of," Emily said. At Jacob's shocked look, she shrugged. "He fathered Cara without anyone knowing, perhaps there were others."

  "A sobering thought." I returned the necklace to the box. "I could have dozens of brothers and sisters."

  "The girls would be mediums too," Charity said.

  Emily and I had already discussed the possibility that the unknown third medium might be our relative, fathered or grandfathered by François. My brother Louis didn't know of any other children, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. He hadn't known about me, either, until I was ten years old.

  I decided to write to him immediately, and sat down at Emily's escritoire in the small study adjacent to her private sitting room. It took some time before I found the right words to begin, only to be interrupted by Emily before I put pen to paper.

  "Samuel's here!" She sounded breathless, as if she'd run up the stairs. "He has news."

  "He's found Alwyn?"

  "I don't know. The footman informed me of his arrival and I came straight here. I haven't seen him yet."

  We raced downstairs together and found Samuel in the drawing room, talking quietly with Charity. Jacob joined us at the same moment, a footman having fetched him from his study. The faces of both Samuel and Charity told us nothing. Indeed, they were unusually blank. I wasn't sure what to make of it.

  "You found him?" The urgency in Jacob's voice betrayed his worry.

  Samuel quickly nodded and a collective sigh of relief filled the room. "Found him and hypnotized him."

  Emily's hand fluttered to her chest as she blew out a breath. My knees felt a little weak and I sat on the nearest chair.

  Jacob strode over to Samuel and slapped him on the back. "Good work. Where was he?"

  "I found him at home, believe it or not. I'd paid a lad from Charity's school to keep watch there and report to my staff if Alwyn returned. Luckily I'd been coming home every two hours to check in or I would have missed him again. I had to hypnotize the Alwyns' butler into showing me to his master's bedroom. I woke Alwyn and hypnotized him while he was still trying to work out who I was. It was easy."

  "What a relief," Emily said, collapsing on the sofa. "We ought to celebrate."

  "Not quite." Samuel sagged against the window frame and folded his arms. He looked tired and haggard, an unusual state for the impeccably well-groomed gentleman. "After I hypnotized him I went to check on the book, just in case. It's gone."

  "What?" The word exploded from all three of our mouths at once and had me shooting to my feet.

  "Gone!" Jacob repeated. "How can it be gone? Didn't you hide it well enough?"

  "Jacob, calm down," Emily warned.

  Charity took Samuel's hand as he spoke. "I purchased a safe deposit box at a bank and left the book in it. Not my usual bank, and not Hatfield and Harrington, either. I used a false name," he added when Jacob opened his mouth to speak. Jacob shut it again with an audible snap of back teeth. "I wrote the details in a letter and had my lawyer place it with my other documents. His instructions were to leave it unopened unless one of us requested him to retrieve it."

  "Somebody got to your lawyer," Jacob said darkly. He cursed under his breath.

  I echoed it then asked, "Did you question him?"

  Samuel nodded. "He claimed not to know what I was talking about. He said nobody asked him about it—as far as he can recall."

  I cocked my head to the side. "You mean he can't recall everything?"

  Samuel nodded again. "He claims to have lapses in his memory from yesterday."

  "Bloody Myer," Jacob muttered. "He must have hypnotized him."

  "I believe so too. He must have worked out that I was the logical choice for hiding the book from him. I was the only one who couldn't be hypnotized and forced into revealing the hiding place. Once he'd come to that conclusion, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to question my lawyer under hypnosis, find my letter and open it."

  "But he believed us when we told him Quin was the only one who knew where it was hidden," I said.

  "Are you certain?"

  "Ye-es. No. I don't know."

  "Perhaps he believed Quin at first, but changed his mind later."

  "Do you think he realized Quin wasn't from Melbourne after all?" Charity asked.

  "How? Nathaniel assured me the night of the ball that he did not tell Myer his suspicions about Quin. He's as worried about Myer's obsession with the supernatural as we are and doesn't want him to possess the book either."

  "You could ask him," Emily said with a smile that implied she hoped I would do more than merely ask.

  "I would if I wanted to see him again. I'm not sure that I do."

  "Why not? He's quite the dashing gentleman and his family are very nice, respectable people."

  I twisted to face her fully. "You've been asking about him, haven't you? Emily! How could you?" Before she could answer, I added, "I am not interested in Nathaniel in that way anymore. I'm surprised you want me to be, since he's proven to be deceitful."

  "That was in the past, and Myer may have forced his hand."

  "You did not see his enthusiasm in the research libr
ary as he hunted down clues of the book's whereabouts, nor see him sneak about the city as he followed us. Those are not the actions of a dashing gentleman, but a cowardly and untrustworthy one."

  "Well," she huffed. "I didn't know you were so set against him now. You seemed to like him well enough at one point. You could speak of no one else after your voyage."

  I turned my shoulder to her as she turned her shoulder to me.

  Jacob cleared his throat and turned away from both of us. "Gladstone, we need to pay Myer a visit."

  "I'm coming," I said before Samuel could respond. "I've had enough of sitting around here all day. I need to get out and do something."

  Nobody forbade me and I departed in the coach with Samuel and Jacob immediately. It was growing late, the sun already setting behind the tall buildings, plunging the city into shadows. The shops had already shut for the evening and the streets were filled with speeding omnibuses overflowing with clerks and other office employees heading home to the outer suburbs.

  We arrived at Myer's house and had to wait in the entrance hall while the butler informed his master. After his return, we were shown up to the study where Myer sat behind a desk that seemed much too large for the few pieces of paper and inkstand occupying it. I was pleased to be informed that Mrs. Myer was not at home. I had no interest in seeing her. She had a way of making me feel inferior, and that was without calling me names or staring like others did. She had a superior air about her, as if she were deigning to speak to you despite her better judgment. She even looked down on her husband.

  Myer greeted us with smooth smiles and empty compliments. There was no sign of the anger he'd displayed the last time I'd seen him in Harborough, after being told the book was hidden. The change put me on edge. There had to be an explanation, and the only one I could think of was that he now possessed the book.

  Jacob clearly thought the same way. He didn't exchange pleasantries with Myer. He leaned his knuckles on the desk and pinned Myer with an ice-cold glare. "Where is it?"

  Myer held up his hands. "You'll have to be more specific, I'm afraid. I'm not a mind reader." He chuckled and his gaze flicked to Samuel.

  Samuel rounded the desk and grasped the other man by the front of his waistcoat. "You know what Beaufort means. Where is the book?"

  "Ah. That." Myer held up his hands in surrender and Samuel backed away. Myer smoothed down the front of his shirt and waistcoat. "I don't know. I believe your friend St. Clair hid it. Perhaps you ought to ask him. Oh, wait. Hasn't he sailed back to Melbourne?"

  "Don't play games," Jacob snarled. "We know you hypnotized Gladstone's lawyer to get it."

  "I don't know what you mean. Miss Moreau? Perhaps you can explain. Your temper is much more even than these two hot headed fellows. Hmmm?"

  If only he knew I wanted to punch him in the nose. "We know you have it, Mr. Myer. We know how you got it. Hand it over now or you'll have to face their wrath. Unfortunately, I'm not able to control them, and I would hate to see you get hurt."

  He swallowed heavily and took a moment to eye each of them in turn. He then rested his palms on the desk and spread out his fingers. "Gentlemen, please. Take a seat." Neither did. He swallowed again. "Perhaps you ought to cast your net a little wider than myself. For one thing, I know Lord Alwyn is after the book too."

  "He doesn't have it," Samuel said.

  "Are you certain?"

  "Very. How did you know he wanted it?"

  "He approached me with an offer. He said he knows that I want it and asked me what I'd be willing to pay if he found it."

  "And your answer?"

  "Was to tell him that he would have to travel all the way to the antipodes to learn of its location from the man who hid it. He responded to that with a scoff, if you must know. He was rather adamant that he could find it using other means. Don't ask me what they were. I refused to play his game."

  "That may be so, but it wasn't him who took it."

  Myer steepled his fingers and pressed them to his pursed lips as he thought. "But if St. Clair is the only one who knows where the book was hidden, and he has returned to Melbourne, how do you even know it's missing at all?" His eyes widened. "He wasn't the only one who knew, was he? Ha! You duped us all."

  I was almost positive that he was acting, but I didn't dare accuse him. Samuel and Jacob were somewhat braver.

  "Listen here," Jacob growled. "Stop pretending to be the fool. We know you're not. Alwyn doesn't have the book, so you must."

  "Or not. What about Faraday?"

  "What about him?" Samuel asked.

  "He wanted the book as much as I did, and perhaps he suspected that St. Clair didn't hide it. Rather more interesting than that is the news of his disappearance."

  "What do you mean?" I asked, taking a step closer to the desk.

  "I can't find him." Myer looked more troubled by this than any threat from Jacob and Samuel. He frowned down at his hands. "He hasn't returned to his rented rooms in Chelsea for two days. I went in search of him this morning, and the landlady showed me about. All his things are still there, including his suitcase." He shook his head. "I can't figure it out. Where did he go in such a hurry?"

  I exchanged glances with Samuel and Jacob. Their anger had dissolved quickly, this new mystery capturing their interest too. "Have you asked the police to look into it?"

  "Or checked the hospitals?" Jacob asked.

  "Yes to the police, no to the hospitals. They said they'd check for me if he doesn't turn up." Myer shook his head, his mouth set in a grim line. "But I suspect he doesn't want to be found. He's taken the book and gone into hiding. That's my theory."

  I wasn't sure whether to believe him. Nathaniel did seem to have an interest in the book, but not as much as Myer. Besides, it didn't explain everything.

  Samuel seemed to have the same thought as me. "Are you trying to tell me he can hypnotize too?"

  "Not unless he's been hiding that particular light under a bushel. Why?"

  "Because my lawyer experienced some memory lapses. Whoever took the book must have hypnotized him to get it. Do you have an explanation for that?"

  Myer shrugged. "Old age, too much wine… Not all memory lapses are my fault, Gladstone. You know that."

  A knock sounded on the door and Myer checked his watch as he called "Enter."

  The butler bowed in the doorway. "Mrs. Myer has returned home, sir." His message delivered, he began to back out again before Myer asked him to halt.

  "Adamson, show the gentlemen and Miss Moreau out. Excuse me," he said to us, "but I must ask you to leave now."

  "We haven't finished," Jacob snapped.

  "If you wish to stay I'm sure my wife will be delighted to have your company."

  I snorted and everyone looked at me, including Adamson. I bit my lip and dipped my head.

  "I have to go out," Myer went on. He strode past us to the door, but did not immediately walk through. Instead, he looked left then right, and only when he saw nobody out in the hall did he leave. It would seem he wanted to avoid his wife too.

  We followed Adamson down the stairs to the front door, mercifully not bumping into Mrs. Myer either.

  "What do you make of that?" I asked the others as the coach lurched forward. Twilight had descended upon the city while we were inside, and lamps were being lit by the lamplighter doing his rounds with his long pole. My stomach assured me it was dinnertime.

  "It must have been Myer," Samuel said.

  Jacob tapped his fingers on the window sill as he gazed out. "I'm not sure. He's right in that a lapse of memory could have other causes. And Faraday is missing."

  "There is that. But Mr. Barry is neither old nor forgetful. I don't think his memory lapses can be explained away as easily as that. Myer must have hypnotized him."

  "I tend to agree," I added. "Myer seemed to know all about the book and was a little too smug for my liking. But Nathaniel's disappearance is suspect. I wonder where he's gone and why so suddenly."

  "Emily won't be
happy," Jacob told me. When I looked at him askance, he added, "She hates it when her matchmaking plans go awry."

  "I told her I'm not interested in Nathaniel."

  "You showed a great deal of interest once. She hopes you will again when he disassociates himself from Myer."

  I rolled my eyes and said nothing more. Arguing with Jacob wouldn't get me anywhere. He was completely on Emily's side.

  "Let's just find him first," Samuel said. "To be honest, I'm a little worried. Myer claimed Faraday took nothing with him from his rooms. That's something of a concern."

  "Agreed." Jacob resumed his finger tapping. "I wonder where he went."

  I wondered if he'd taken the book with him.

  ***

  My father was buried on a cool, wet day that seemed out of place for June. The rain came down in a find drizzle as we watched his coffin descend into the ground, but stopped as the coach rolled away from the cemetery. By the time we reached the Belgravia house, the sun was out, or as out as it could ever be in London's haze.

  It had been four days since we'd spoken to Myer, and Nathaniel still had not turned up. Nor were we any closer to finding the book. Samuel even went so far as to hypnotize members of Myer's household, but none knew anything about a book of spells or the disappearance of Nathaniel Faraday. It was an unsettling time but, as each day passed and nothing happened, we began to relax. The household resumed its routine as if it had never been interrupted. Charity returned to the school and her teaching duties, while I became listless with boredom. The universities didn't run lectures during summer and there was little to do in a city heating up by the day. Unfortunately that meant I had no excuses when invited out to drink tea or dine with Emily and her friends. Some I enjoyed, like the musical evenings hosted by Jacob's mother, Lady Preston, or Adelaide Culvert, but others were tedious affairs. I was quite sure I nodded off during one afternoon of poetry reading. In my defense, it was a warm day and the reader was a gentleman poet in love with the hostess's daughter. He possessed bucked teeth and a lackluster imagination, ending every verse with a reference to the girl's 'fine eyes'.

  I was quite glad when Emily announced we would be spending the rest of the summer at Lord and Lady Preston's estate in the country. I loved Jacob's family's rambling house, set in acres of parkland and wood. There was so much to do there, and so many places to explore. Even better, there were few neighbors nearby. The invitations to afternoon tea and dinners would be fewer.