Heart Burn (16 page)

Myer glanced at me and sat back in his chair. He seemed unperturbed by Jack's temper, although he changed the subject. "You appear more fatigued tonight, Miss Smith. Hotter too."

"My health is the same as the last time we met," I said. "It neither declines nor improves."

"I see. So have you gained any new knowledge about the demon summoner?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Jack said, idly. Dangerously. "We discovered that the mayor of Harborough is likely involved."

"The mayor?"

Jack nodded. "You know his wife, I believe. Mrs. Butterworth."

Myer's eyes narrowed. A muscle in the corner of his mouth twitched, forming what could either be a smile or a grimace. "I don't believe I do."

"Now, Mr. Myer, it wouldn't be in your best interests to lie to us."

"Agreed," Samuel said. "I won't be staying with you if you continue down that path, Myer. We know you and Mrs. Butterworth had…assignations."

Myer's face colored. He stretched his neck as if his collar were too tight. "The lady herself told you that?"

"We don't break confidences," Jack said.

"If she did, then she was lying."

"Stop it!" I slammed my hands down on the chair's arms. I was tired, irritated and so frustrated by this evasive man. "Stop it, Mr. Myer. Stop the lies. Stop it all. We know about you and Mrs. Butterworth. We know that you hypnotized her in her own home. I hope to God that she agreed to the assignations. If she did not, Jack and Samuel here will have to show you what it's like to feel vulnerable and at another's mercy." The heat rose within me, swirling and boiling and aching.
Stay calm, Hannah.

"It wasn't against her will!" he cried. "I can assure you of that." Tiny beads of sweat popped out on his brow, and his hands twisted in his lap, over and over. "She wanted to be with me, but had reservations. I told her I could allay her fears, and she gave me permission to hypnotize her. That's all."

I wasn't sure if I believed him or not. It sounded plausible, yet I didn't trust him. He was too slippery. "We'll ask her ourselves. If her story confirms yours, you'll be spared. If not, you
will
regret it."

"And I'll return to Frakingham," Samuel said.

A footman entered, shattering the tension in the room. "I'm looking for a Mr. Myer," he said.

"I am he," Myer said, wiping his brow with his thumb.

The footman handed him a note and Myer unfolded it. "It's from my wife," he said, reading. "She's asking me to return home." He scrunched up the note and tossed it into the unlit fireplace.

I sat there in the armchair, shocked to my core. Not because of the note or its contents, but by what the footman had said.
Myer
. Yet he hadn't pronounced it the way I did, or Jack, or Samuel. His accent made the name sound like
mayor
.

Both Jack and Samuel had noticed too. They exchanged glances then stood as one. Samuel calmly closed the door and remained there, guarding the exit. Jack, much less calm, grabbed Myer's arm and jerked him to his feet.

"Mr. Langley! I protest."

"You're not allowed to protest," Jack snarled. "You lied to us."

Myer's eyes widened. He tried to pull free, but Jack held him. The physical difference between the two was marked. Jack was taller than Myer and broader across the shoulders. Everything about him screamed power and fury. Myer trembled, and he didn't even know Jack's full capabilities.

"You are the 'mayor' that the Widow Mott spoke of," I said.

"What are you talking about?" Myer asked, once more trying to pull free.

"Whether she couldn't read the signature on the letter you sent her husband, or whether we didn't understand her accent, it's clear to us now that you knew Mott.
You
employed him to summon the demon, not Mayor Butterworth." Hot blood pounded through my body in a raging torrent. Pain splintered inside my head and shot down my spine, along my limbs. Sparks burst from my fingertips onto the floor.

I stumbled backward and found the chair as my knees gave way. I sat and concentrated on my breathing, on calming myself and reducing the heat within me to bearable levels.

"Hannah?" Jack was at my side. His raw fear stared back at me.

"I'm all right." I managed to sound almost normal as the heat subsided. "I was angry." I checked the floor for evidence of burning, but there was none. Jack must have stamped out the sparks before they could catch the rug alight.

He passed me the glass of punch and helped me drink since my hands trembled too much to hold it.

"Continue with your questions," I said to Jack. "I'll be all right."

"Miss Smith," Myer began, but stopped. He stared at me, more curious than anything else.

"Yes?" I prompted.

"I…I'm sorry. It troubles me to see such a pretty, vital young woman this way."

"Thank you," I said, meaning it. "Now answer Jack's questions."

To my surprise, he nodded. "Very well. You're right. I paid that man Mott to summon the demon."

"You sent him to a horrible death," Samuel snarled.

Myer crossed his legs and smoothed his trouser leg. "That wasn't meant to happen. The entire thing didn't go too well."

"That is an understatement," Jack said, standing by my side. "You'd better start at the beginning. Why did you want to summon a demon? What have we ever done to you?"

Myer held up his hands and shook his head vigorously. "This has nothing to do with you, Mr. Langley! Or anyone else at the house. You see, the Frakingham Abbey ruins contain strong supernatural energy. Energy that can be harvested, studied and perhaps put to use here in this realm."

"Is this a joke?" Samuel scoffed.

"No! Of course not. I treat the supernatural very seriously."

"What has the demon got to do with the energy at the ruins?" Jack asked.

"Demons are attracted to strong energy like that rumored to be at the ruins. I summoned it to observe its behavior near the abbey." He swallowed heavily. "That's all."

"That's
all
!" I cried. "You summoned a creature you couldn't control into this realm for no reason other than to study it?"

He held up his hands. "I hadn't expected to not be able to control it. I know about demons, Miss Smith. I'm well able to handle one."

"Then why didn't you?" Jack snapped.

"Because it consumed the mad spirits in your house."

"You mean those spirits of the children in the Frakingham dungeon?"

Myer nodded. "Summoning is not an exact science. The demons don't always appear where you want them to. That one fell into this realm in your dungeon and consumed those spirits. It became mad itself, and as such, I wasn't able to control it."

"So you simply left it and returned to London!" Samuel bit off. "Bloody hell. I cannot believe someone would do such a thing!"

"I didn't dare approach the house and search for the amulet. It was too dangerous."

"We're quite aware of how dangerous, thank you," I muttered. "We were prisoners within the house for days. People were hurt, Mr. Myer. Mott and our driver died. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I am." He nodded. "I am very sorry. I sent money to the Widow Mott for her family. Anonymously, of course. I'll do the same for your driver."

"You think that compensates for the loss? Mrs. Mott is without a husband. Her children no longer have a father."

He burried his face in his hands. "I know. I'm deeply troubled. The experiment was a terrible failure. From what I could see, the demon showed no interest in the ruins. You were all closer to it. Did you see it go to the abbey?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This man had very little conscience. He may have given Mrs. Mott money, but he seemed oblivious to the sorrow he'd wreaked on that family as well as others. He was blinded by the power of the supernatural. He was greedy for it, consumed by it, the way some are consumed by their desire for money.

"Is that all you can think of? You disgust me."

He nodded slowly without meeting my gaze. "You're right. I'll be sure to give Mrs. Mott more, and your driver's family too."

I sighed. He still didn't understand. I doubted he ever would.

"May I leave now?" he asked. "I'd like to enjoy more of the evening before it ends."

Samuel stepped aside. "I won't be returning to your house," he said as Myer opened the door. "Send my things to Claridges in the morning."

Myer opened his mouth, but shut it again and nodded. He left without another word.

We three remained in the room. None of us spoke for some time. I think we were all too shocked.

"I'm glad you're not going with him, Samuel," I said, finally.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose. "You were both right. The man has no morals. Something inside him is warped. To have done what he's done…" He shook his head. "He sickens me."

"Do you think he learned his lesson? He seemed sorry for what happened to Mott and Olsen at least."

"Sorry, but not troubled," Jack said.

I blew out a measured breath. It was such a relief to have the puzzle solved, even though Myer's actions had been reprehensible. He'd learned his lesson, at least. "Thank goodness it's over. He won't try it again, I'm sure. He wouldn't dare."

"Let's hope not," Jack said.

I stood. I still felt warm and a little light-headed, but not dangerously so. I was well enough to venture out. "Shall we enjoy the rest of the ball too?"

"Do you feel up to it?" Jack asked.

I nodded. "I'm hot and tired, but I don't want to leave yet."

"Very well, but be careful. I won't have you overtaxed."

We returned to the ballroom, and I spent the remainder of the evening chatting with Mrs. Beaufort, Mrs. Culvert and their friends. Cara, Sylvia and Miss Charity danced most of the time with different gentlemen, and occasionally joined us to rest in between sets. Jack and Samuel danced on occasion too, but mostly fell into conversation with others. 

Myer danced with different ladies. I observed him as best as I could from where I stood at the edge of the ballroom, but it was impossible to tell whether he'd hypnotized his partners. They certainly seemed happy, but I knew the man could be naturally charming if he chose to be. I doubted he would have risked using his hypnosis. There were too many bystanders who might be affected, and he knew we were watching. His gaze connected with mine often, to the point where I felt decidedly uncomfortable.

Why was he interested in me all of a sudden? He didn't show the same level of interest in Jack, Samuel or any of the others.

I parted from them toward the end of the night to attend the ladies' dressing room. On my way back to the ballroom, Myer intercepted me.

"Don't be alarmed, Miss Smith," he said, hands up in surrender. "I don't wish to frighten you."

"Then you should leave me alone."

"I will, after we've spoken." He glanced through the open doors leading to the ballroom. "May we go elsewhere to talk?"

"Anything you wish to say to me, you can say here." People wandered past us, heading into and out of the ballroom. Even so, Myer made me nervous. "Indeed, whatever you wish to say to me can be said in front of my friends."

"No!" He glanced into the ballroom again. "They won't like what I have to say."

"Indeed? And what makes you think
I
will like what you have to say?"

"Because it's about finding a cure for you, yet it's not without some risk. A risk that I think will concern your friends more than you."

My breath caught in my chest. "Why is that?"

"They still believe August Langley will find you a cure."

Bile rose to my throat, burning and foul. His choice of words was damning. "And you don't?"

He shook his head. "Nor, I think, do you."

"You're wrong. I do believe it. He's an excellent scientist."

"No, Miss Smith. He
was
an excellent scientist when he partnered with Reuben Tate. What has Langley achieved since that partnership ended? Hmmm?"

"I…I don't know." It was true. Nobody spoke of any cures Langley had found since he and Tate parted, yet they all believed he could cure me.

Were they being optimistic for my sake?

"Tell me what you have in mind, Mr. Myer. How will I be cured if not by August Langley?"

"Work with Tate."

I snorted. "Don't be absurd."

"Miss Smith, you told me yourself that Reuben Tate has been working on curing himself for years. Langley hasn't. Whom do you think would be closer to a solution?"

"Tate may be, but he wants to trial it on me first. I don't particularly wish to be his test case."

"Why not? It may very well work. What have you got to lose?"

I didn't know what to say to that. In an odd way, it made sense. I shivered. Tate frightened me.

"Listen to me, Miss Smith. You don't have much choice. Tate is a desperate man, yes, but his wish is the same as yours—to find a cure."

"Only I may die in the process."

"Or you may not. Besides, you're dying anyway."

It all sounded reasonable. Yet Tate was a madman. He couldn't be trusted. Just like Myer.

I pressed a hand to my forehead. It came away damp with my sweat. "It's an interesting plan, but it doesn't matter anyway. We haven't seen Tate for a week. He may already be dead."

"I can find out for sure if you like."

"What!" I blurted out. "You know where to find him?"

Two ladies gave us a wide berth. Myer hushed me and beckoned me away from the door. "I don't know where he is, but I know of one or two others from the Society who may."

"What makes you think they will tell you?"

He cocked his head to the side and smiled wickedly.

"Oh. Right. You'll hypnotize them."

"I prefer to think of it as convincing them of the right course of action to take."

Good lord, is that how he justified it to himself? "Mr. Myer, why not just tell me who it is? Samuel can hypnotize them for me."

He shook his head. "I don't think so. I'm not sure I want to unleash your friends on innocent parties." His gaze slid to the ballroom entrance then back to me. "Hence this subterfuge."