Crystal Gardens (14 page)

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Authors: Amanda Quick

BOOK: Crystal Gardens
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… When she inflicts death
. An odd turn of phrase, he thought. Most people would have used the masculine pronoun when speaking generically of such matters.

“Fortunately, I am not summoned often to such murder scenes,” he said. “Murder by paranormal means is rare for the simple reason that there are very few killers around endowed with enough talent to commit the act.”

“I can only hope you are correct, but I fear there may be another reason why you are not summoned to such scenes very often.” Evangeline sounded very thoughtful. “I suspect that in many cases the crimes go unnoticed. Death by paranormal means would be like the perfect poison, impossible to detect.”

He turned around to face her. “That, Evangeline, is an excellent observation. You are correct.”

She looked him in the eye. “You are summoned to a hard but honorable and, yes, decent calling, Lucas.”

“Stop it.” He took two strides toward her and clamped his hands around her shoulders. “Do not make me out a hero, Evangeline.”

She stunned him with a knowing smile.

“You are too late, sir. I have already recast John Reynolds.”

“Who the hell is John Reynolds?”

“He was supposed to be the villain of my story, but fortunately I realized in the nick of time that he is actually the hero. I am modeling him on you.”

“Damn it, Evangeline—”

She put her fingertips on his lips to shush him. “To return to the business at hand—”


You
are the business at hand.”

“I was referring to your deductions concerning the mental and emotional state of the person who hired Sharpy Hobson to murder me,” she said. “He was nowhere on the scene last night. How can you conclude that he is desperate?”

Lucas called on his patience.

“It doesn’t always require psychical talent to analyze a criminal’s mind,” he said evenly. “Common sense and logic work just as well, if not better. I can assure you that no one commissions a murder and sends the hired killer all the way to Little Dixby unless he is exceedingly determined. Failure combined with Hobson’s disappearance will only make whoever is behind this more frantic. I sincerely hope that having lost his paid killer, the person who wants you dead will come after you himself. Then we will have him.”

“I see. Yes, that makes sense.” Evangeline raised her brow. “Not exactly a cheery thought, though. Nevertheless, I can’t help wishing I could take a more active part in the investigation.”

“You look like a child who has been told that her friends are going to the fair without her. I can see that you would rather be investigating, but it is for your own good that I insist you remain here in the country.”

“‘
For your own good’
are the four most irritating words in the English language.”

A flicker of amusement whispered through him. “Yes, I have been told that on a number of occasions.”

“By whom?”

“Beth and Tony, my brother and sister. As it happens, I’m inclined to agree. But do not think that you are being denied a useful role in this affair.”

“Making certain that the furniture is dusted and the floors are mopped here at Crystal Gardens is a useful role?”

“I thought I made it clear,” he said. “I do not like it but you are the bait we will use to draw the killer out into the open.”

“Of course.” Evangeline perked up immediately. “I hadn’t thought of things in those terms. So I’m the bait, am I? That does sound at least somewhat useful.”

He shook his head. “A very odd statement from a lady who in the past two weeks has confronted two killers, one of whom attacked her in her own bed.”

She wrinkled her brow. “As I keep reminding everyone, I was not in the bed when the villain got to the bedroom.”

“Yes, I know.” He captured her chin on the edge of his hand. “You were already out of the window and running for the safety of a very dangerous garden. You are a remarkable woman, Evangeline Ames. I believe I have said something to that effect before.”

She blushed and gave him a tremulous smile. “I find you equally remarkable, sir. Unique. You are in fact the ideal model for John—”

He clamped a hand across her mouth. “Do not, I beg you, mention your character’s name again.”

“Very well,” she said.

His palm muffled the words. Cautiously he took his hand away from her lips. She watched him with her fascinating eyes and her mouth twitched a little as if she was suppressing a smile. But she did not say another word.

Energy shivered in the atmosphere between them, heating his blood. It would probably be a mistake to kiss her, he thought.

He kissed her.

It was meant to be a fleeting brush of his mouth against hers. He told himself that he would take only a small taste. But the flash of hot
elation that slammed through him when his mouth closed over hers stunned his senses.

Evangeline went very still. He realized that for all her self-possessed ways, she was shocked by the kiss. Fair enough. So was he.

Evangeline made a soft, husky little sound and dropped the duster. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. Her mouth opened a little beneath his. He locked her close against him and abandoned himself to the kiss.

Energy sang in the atmosphere, igniting all of his senses in ways he had never known. Delight, need and hunger swept through him. The kiss was not merely seductive and arousing, but shatteringly, breathtakingly intimate. He was a man of the world. He had been with other women but he had never experienced this sense of psychical and physical passion. It dazzled his senses.

He fitted his hands to Evangeline’s waist. Mercifully she was not wearing a corset under the plain gown. He could feel the sleek, sensual shape of her waist and the curve of her hips through the heavy fabric. Her fingertips touched the back of his neck. Her scent clouded his mind.

The thud of a bucket hitting the floor on the other side of the door and the sound of voices in the hall shattered the spell. He raised his head and looked into Evangeline’s slightly dazed eyes. She did not look outraged or fearful, he concluded. Astonished, perhaps. She was not the only one.

“Evangeline,” he said. Very gently he scraped his knuckles across her flushed cheek. He stopped because he had no idea what to say next.

“You must excuse me, I want to see how things are getting on in the kitchen.” She was as breathless as if she had just dashed up a flight of stairs. “Your aunt and Mr. Stone will be arriving soon.”

“Have I offended you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, sir—Lucas. It is hardly the first time that I have been kissed.”

“I see.” He tucked a strand of her amber hair beneath the little cap. “I hope this kiss stood up to comparison.”

“Yes, absolutely. It was quite thrilling. Indeed, I’m not sure that I will be able to find the words to describe it.”

A chill crackled through him. He set his jaw. “If a description of what just happened between us shows up in your novel, I will not be pleased, Evangeline.”

She blinked and then, to his chagrin, she gave him a teasing smile.

“As you do not read novels, sir, you will never know how I describe the kiss between my hero and heroine, will you?”

“Damn it, Evangeline—”

“You must excuse me. There is work to be done if I am to make certain that Molly and her relatives are out of here by sundown.”

Evangeline bent down, seized the duster, yanked open the door before he could open it for her and whisked herself out into the hall, skirts flying behind her.

He stood in the doorway, watching until she disappeared around the corner. When she was gone he closed the door.

He crossed the room to the window and stood looking out into the gardens through a narrow crack created by the thick vines. It was, he thought, like peering through the bars of a monk’s cell.

He was no monk but he knew then that, thanks to his talent, he had been living in a psychical version of a cell most of his life.

He was very certain that he had met the woman who held the key.

Twelve

E
vangeline was with Molly, making up the bed in the room that was intended for Lucas’s aunt, when she heard the rumble and clatter of carriage wheels. The windows on the side of the house where she and Molly were working faced the drive. She looked out and saw the village cab. Mayhew, the owner of the vehicle, was on the box. Stone sat beside him, his shaved head covered with a low-crowned cap.

“I believe Mrs. Hampton has arrived,” Evangeline said.

“Good timing, if you ask me.” Molly joined her at the window. “We are finished with her room.”

They watched Stone vault easily down from the box to open the door of the carriage. He swept his hat off his head in a respectful manner. The sunlight danced on his hairless skull.

“Oh, my,” Molly whispered. “Is that Mr. Sebastian’s man?”

“Yes,” Evangeline said. “His name is Stone.”

“Oh, my,” Molly said again. “Someone said that he was a big man. And he is, isn’t he? Strong as an ox, I’ll wager. But a good deal more handsome.”

The feminine approval in her voice made Evangeline smile. She glanced to the side and saw that Molly was gazing down at Stone with rapt attention.

“Is this the first time you’ve seen him?” Evangeline asked.

“Yes, ma’am, but I heard some talk about him in the village.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think Mr. Stone knows much about farming. He was raised in London.”

“Fine by me,” Molly said. “I’ve no interest in marrying a farmer. I know the life and I’d just as soon avoid it.”

Evangeline laughed. “Good grief, listen to you. You haven’t even met Mr. Stone and already you’re talking about marriage.”

“A girl has to think about such matters when she’s still young enough to have some choice, miss. Wait too long and suddenly you’re all alone in the world.”

“Yes, I know.”

Molly was horrified. “I beg your pardon, miss. I never meant to say that you’re too old to marry—that is, you’re not a spinster, Miss Ames.”

“It’s all right, Molly. We both know that’s exactly what I am. In London women who reach my age and are still single rarely marry, not unless they have some money.”

“It’s no different here in the country. The farm goes to my brothers so I must make my own plans and they don’t include becoming a farmer’s wife. I am going to open a tea shop here in Little Dixby. It will be a very elegant shop with cakes and sandwiches that will be much finer than the poor-quality food Mrs. Collins serves in her tea shop. There will be lemonade and ices in the summer. With so many visitors coming to view and sketch the ruins these days, I know I could make it work.”

Evangeline pondered her response. The last thing she wanted to do was quash Molly’s dreams. Opening a tea shop would cost money and it was obvious that the Gillinghams did not have a great deal of it. But Molly had spirit and energy and intelligence. With luck, those attributes would prove to be sufficient to achieve her goals.

“That sounds like a fine plan,” she said.

“Thank you, miss.” Molly turned back to the view of the drive. “Look, that must be Mrs. Hampton. Very impressive, isn’t she?”

Evangeline studied the woman Stone was assisting down from the carriage. Florence Hampton was tall for a woman. She carried herself with the authority and bearing of a ship’s captain. A small gray velvet hat trimmed with white feathers was perched atop a tightly coiled chignon of silvered hair. She wore a fashionable dark gray carriage gown and gray leather walking boots. In one gray-gloved hand she gripped a silver-handled walking stick.

Evangeline started to turn away from the window. “I must go downstairs to greet her.”

“Wait, miss, someone else is getting out of the carriage,” Molly said.

Evangeline paused in the doorway. “Mrs. Hampton probably brought her personal maid. I’m not surprised. That’s one of the reasons I thought it best to open up this entire floor.”

“That is no maid, miss. It’s another fine lady. Will you look at that pink and green gown? It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“What on earth?”

Evangeline hurried back to the window. She looked down and saw an attractive young blonde who looked to be nineteen or twenty stepping down from the carriage.

“You’re right,” Evangeline said. “Definitely not a maid.”

“Look, there comes the lady’s maid.”

The last person to step down from the carriage was unmistakably in service. She was middle-aged and clearly experienced. She immediately
took charge and began issuing instructions to Stone and the driver, who set about unloading the luggage.

“That makes three new people we shall have to feed,” Molly said. “I’d best see about ordering more salmon. We’ll be needing another two dozen eggs as well.”

“Something tells me that Mr. Sebastian is in for a surprise,” Evangeline said. “I’m quite certain he was not expecting anyone except his aunt. I’d better alert him.”

She hurried down the back stairs because they were the closest to the library. But she was too late to warn Lucas of the change in his plans. She arrived in the doorway of the library just in time to see him greet the visitors.

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