Playing With Fire (18 page)

I can't
, I mouthed back. The pull of Samuel's voice was remarkably strong. Fortunately it changed as he asked his first question.

"Tell me where Mrs. Dodd is."

"She got a new position," intoned Mrs. Perry. Her eyes were huge as she stared back at Samuel. "Housekeeper for a Mr. and Mrs. Gearsley."

"The address?"

"Number twenty Patterson Street, Hampstead."

"Thank you, Mrs. Perry. Now, when you wake—"

"Come inside, dear sir." Mrs. Perry took Samuel's hand and pulled him toward her. She used such force that he lost his balance and ended up in her arms. He tried to extricate himself, but Mrs. Perry had quite the hold around his waist. "Let me fetch you some cake and tea."

"Uh, thank you, but no."

"Come now, dear boy." She rubbed his back. Samuel wrenched himself free. He took a step away, almost knocking me over.

"When you wake you'll remember nothing," he said quickly. He clicked his fingers. "Wake up!"

Mrs. Perry blinked slowly. For a fleeting moment she appeared quite dazed, then her eyes focused on Samuel. Her bulldog jowls wobbled. "Are you still here? Be off with you."

"Yes, of course." Samuel bowed. "Thank you, Mrs. Perry."

She grunted and shut the door.

Samuel fidgeted with his tie and blew out a measured breath. "Let's go."

I kept my laughter in until we'd rounded the corner and I could control it no longer. "Does that always happen?" I said between giggles.

Samuel's face had gone red to the roots of his fair hair. "Not every single time."

"But a lot?"

He nodded and avoided my gaze. He was walking very fast, but Jack was walking faster up ahead. I had to trot to keep up with them both. "That was highly amusing," I said. "I wonder what would have happened if you'd not ended the session."

"I'm glad I provided some amusement in these dark days," Samuel said. He appeared to be fighting a smile, but when he glanced sideways at me, he lost the battle. "I'm going to have nightmares for a week now."

"So if you can do that without a swaying object, why did you use that disc on me in Dr. Werner's rooms?"

"It's just a prop. People expect me to use one, Dr. Werner included. It makes them feel more comfortable when I conform to their image of what a hypnotist should do."

Jack stopped and swung round. He wasn't laughing. Indeed, he looked furious.

"Jack?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

He pointed back the way we'd come. "That! I can't believe—" He shook his head, spun on his heel, and strode off again, faster than before.

"Jack!"

He didn't stop.

"Jack, slow down, I can't keep up."

He stopped, but kept his back to us. He was breathing hard. His entire body seemed to expand with every inhalation. I wanted to massage the rigidity out of his shoulders, but there would be no touching of that nature between us, even if it were acceptable in public.

"What is it?" I asked, standing as close as I dared. "What's wrong?"

He gave one shake of his head, but said nothing.

"I thought that's what you wanted me to do," Samuel said. He sounded a little hurt at Jack's anger, and I could understand why. We
had
wanted him to hypnotize Mrs. Perry.

Jack turned around and pinned Samuel with a pointed glare. "I can't believe I let you hypnotize Hannah before!"

"Ah," was all Samuel said.

"That's it?" Jack fisted his hands at his sides, but not before I saw the reddened tips from the fire boiling inside him. "That's all you have to say on the matter?"

One eye on Jack's fists, Samuel said, "You're not going to hit me or throw a fireball, are you?"

Jack growled and walked off. Once again I had to run to keep up. "You didn't
let
Samuel hypnotize me," I said. "Indeed, you didn't have a choice."

"I remember," he bit off. "I also remember you throwing me out of the room. I shouldn't have let you do that either."

"Jack, I was perfectly all right. Dr. Werner was there too, and you know Samuel now. He's an honorable man."

"Thank you, Hannah," Samuel said. "If I wasn't honorable, I would have taken Mrs. Perry up on her offer."

"Samuel!" I cried. "That's not helping."

"Of
cake
," he said, grinning. Good lord, he was making it worse. Jack looked like he wanted to rip Samuel's head off. "Go on, Langley, hit me. I know you want to, and it'll make you feel better."

Jack stopped.

"Jack!" I scolded. "Don't you dare."

He grunted and continued walking toward our carriage. He flipped a coin to each of the two lads holding the reins and opened the door for me as Samuel climbed onto the driver's seat.

"Although I find your concern flattering," I said to Jack, "you are not to take out your frustration on Samuel. Understand? We went to him, and he did nothing wrong."

He fingered the lace cuff of my jacket. Heat bloomed at my wrist and spread up my arm, but not to an uncomfortable level. "It's just that…" He sighed again. "For the first time, I saw his power work on a female. Mrs. Perry's reaction was startling. If that's how most of the women are when he hypnotizes them…"

"I assure you I didn't swoon or offer Samuel…cake. I was quite blank thanks to the memory blockage put on me as a child." Some of the anger left his eyes, so I didn't feel quite so bad at telling the small lie. Of course I had no way of knowing how I'd behaved in my hypnotized state. If I'd behaved as Mrs. Perry had, neither Samuel nor Dr. Werner had said so. Of course, they wouldn't. If that sort of thing became public, Dr. Werner would be put out of business from the ensuing scandal.

"Come on," I said, "ride with me in the cabin. Samuel can find his way to number twenty Patterson Street, Hampstead on his own."

Finally Jack's anger dissolved completely with the cracking of a smile. "How can I refuse an invitation like that?"

***

The Hampstead house where Mrs. Dodd worked was nothing like the Kensington house. It was modern and built over two levels with no basement service area accessible from the street. We knocked on the front door and, as we'd hoped, Mrs. Dodd opened it.

She recognized Jack and I, but I could see her struggling to remember where from. But the moment came and when it did, she gasped. "Good lord, you were at Mr. Tate's on that awful day."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Dodd," Jack said. "I'm Jack Langley and this is Miss Hannah Smith and Mr. Samuel Gladstone. We've come to talk to you about Reuben Tate. May we come in?"

She glanced over her shoulder, and came out to us on the porch. She closed the door behind her. "My new employers are strict about me having visitors," she said with a tired sigh. "And I don't want them aware of my connection to a man like Tate. I still cannot believe he turned into such a monster."

I was relieved that Mrs. Dodd wasn't at all like her sister. She didn't shut the door in our face when we mentioned Tate for a start.

"How did you find me?" she asked. "Did my sister tell you where I worked?"

"Mrs. Perry was a little reluctant at first," Jack said.

"She's very protective of me. I'm her little sister, you see, and after what happened that day with Mr. Tate…well, she worries. I hope she wasn't too curt with you. How did you convince her to give you this address?"

"Mr. Gladstone can be very persuasive."

Samuel bowed and smiled that lovely smile of his.

"He must be," Mrs. Dodd said, eyeing him with open curiosity. "My sister is not the easily persuaded sort."

"Mrs. Dodd, we need to speak to you about Mr. Tate," I said. "We have some important questions in light of his escape."

"Escape!" She gasped. "I had no idea. Dear God, what is our prison system coming to if it allows a man like him to get out?"

"I think the circumstances took even his jailors by surprise," Jack said. "We need to talk to you about him. You may be able to help us find him before he finds us. He's after Miss Smith, you see, for reasons too numerous to go into now."

Another gasp. "You poor dear. Of course I'll try to help, but I doubt I'll know anything useful."

"How long have you worked for him?"

"Oh, years." She counted on her fingers. "At least twenty."

Twenty! Then she'd been with Tate when Langley partnered him. Odd how he'd not mentioned it.

Jack obviously had the same thought, because he said, "I think you may know more than you realize. Is there somewhere we can go to talk?"

"Not here, not now. What about later this afternoon? I can meet you after I've served Mrs. Gearsley's tea. Cook can make the dinner preparations without me, as long as I'm back to serve."

"Is there an inn nearby?"

"The Hammer and Nail is a block away." She pointed down the street. "Turn right then left. Meet me at four-thirty."

We thanked her and she slipped back inside the house, giving us an uncertain smile before closing the final gap.

"We have several hours before we meet her," Samuel said as we walked back to the carriage. "What shall we do now?"

"Speak to Culvert," Jack said. "I want to show him the amulet."

***

We ate lunch at a coffee house not far from George Culvert's residence then drove on to his house. He lived in an elegantly curved street of Belgravia where magnificent residences reigned over the vista. He wasn't at home, but his lovely wife Adelaide—Jacob Beaufort's sister—told us we would find him at the charity school for orphans. Apparently he taught there sometimes, although what a demonologist taught to a group of children was a mystery.

The school was located on the edge of Clerkenwell, an area patterned with narrow alleys crammed with small workshops and equally small houses. Signs in the doors and windows informed passersby what sort of trade was conducted inside. That's if you could see the signs in the first place. Between the grimy window glass and the lack of sunlight reaching the deep recesses of the alleys, most were obscured. Children played in the street, and I was glad to see they all wore shoes and coats to ward off the bitter cold. Not that I felt it, but Samuel did. He blew on his gloved hands and hunched into his coat. I was glad for my internal fire for once.

Jack paid two older lads to mind the horses and coach while we went into the school. The building was the largest on the street, its windows the cleanest. We were met by a maid who showed us through to a small, comfortable parlor, then left us to fetch Mr. Culvert.

It wasn't him who entered a few minutes later, however, but a tall striking blonde woman. Going by Jack's soft exhalation of breath, I guessed she was Charity, the teacher. His lover.

I was quite pleased with how I maintained a serene composure. My polite smile didn't slip and my hands remained loosely clasped in my lap, not a white knuckle on show. I didn't once glance at Jack. I couldn't have borne any wistful or longing looks he may have cast in her direction. To anyone who'd looked at me, I would have appeared calm and composed.

Yet my insides were a bundle of tangled knots in danger of unraveling at any moment. It would have been easier if Miss Charity weren't so pretty or so elegant. She had a perfectly oval face with not a freckle in sight, and the loveliest fair hair. Being tall meant she could carry off the plain black dress with the neat bustle at the back with elegance. The dress's only adornments were the large cuffs that covered part of her hands. She made me feel quite overdone in the ruches and swathes of my dark green silk gown.

"Jack," she cooed. "I cannot believe it's you."

"Charity," he said and bowed.

She laughed a throaty laugh and bid him not to be so formal with her. "When was it we last saw one another?"

"A year ago. You left the children all of a sudden without word." There was no accusation in his tone. It was merely a statement of fact.

Her smile vanished and a shadow passed over her face. "Ah yes. That." She did not explain or apologize, but turned her smile back on again. It seemed she and I both knew how to do the correct and polite thing in certain company. "Won't you introduce me to your friends?"

Jack cleared his throat. I still refused to look at his face, but it was getting more and more difficult. "This is Miss Hannah Smith, my cousin's companion, and this is Mr. Samuel Gladstone, a neurologist undertaking research at Frakingham."

She bobbed a small curtsey. "What an interesting combination of people you have at that house, Jack. Are you studying anyone in particular for your research, Mr. Gladstone?"

"I'm a student of all human nature, Miss…"

"Charity. I'm Miss Charity to everyone from the students to the other teachers."

"Miss Charity." Samuel smiled and I was quite certain his was genuine. It would seem the beauty of Miss Charity could charm the charmer himself. "As I said, I'm a student of human nature. I observe how people think and behave in all sorts of situations. I study everyone I meet. The inhabitants of Frakingham House are no exception."

"I'm sure they give you much material for your research. Particularly Jack here," she said, her eyes twinkling with merry mischief.

"Oh? How so?"

"Charity," Jack said, his voice a low warning. It was such a change that I broke my rule and looked at him. He was glaring at Charity, but she was ignoring him.

"That's up to you to find out, Mr. Gladstone." She leaned closer, conspiratorial, but Jack and I could hear every word. "Dig beneath the surface of that steely façade he so expertly wears. Ask questions of the
right
people, and you'll find out more about Jack
Cutler
than you ever wanted to know." The use of his original name wasn't lost on anyone. Samuel's gaze slid to Jack then me, then back to Charity. "Indeed," she went on, "you may wish you'd never asked."

She finally looked at Jack then, but I was surprised by what I saw in her eyes. I expected triumph that her cutting remarks had brought such a reaction, perhaps even a measure of desperation since I was quite sure she was trying to gain his attention. But there was none of that in her demeanor. Only sadness that seemed to run like a stain through her pretty blue eyes. And something else too. Something that took my breath away and tightened my chest.