Hosack complied, and in the ensuing exchange of pleasantries, Charlotte learned that DeVere had spent the last year in the Unites States, including a lengthy stay in the city of New York, where he had become a member of the same scientific society as Hosack and Becton. A chill snaked down her spine at the discovery that he had a connection, however slight, to Becton’s murder. The cloak of Evil fit him even more perfectly than his elegant evening clothes, and she couldn’t help but speculate . . .
“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen,” she murmured. “While you discuss your scientific matters, I really ought to return to the King’s Gallery and see if my friends have arrived.”
The polite responses fuzzed by the ringing in her ears, Charlotte withdrew into one of the side corridors that led in a roundabout way back to the main entrance. To her relief, the shadowed passageway was deserted. Slowing her steps to a halt, she drew in several quick gulps of air, willing her heart to stop thumping against her ribs.
“Lady Charlotte.”
The devil-damned voice was hardly more than a whisper and yet it sounded loud as cannon fire to her ears.
She turned.
In the low light, the silvery threads in DeVere’s hair seemed to pulse with an unnatural glow.
“Since we shall be finding ourselves moving within the same circles of Polite Society, I suggest we put the past behind us. What is done is done. There’s no reason we can’t both be civilized about this.”
Charlotte stared at him in disbelief.“Civilized?”
“A few unfortunate mishaps—”
“Howdareyou speak as if a toy soldier was broken or a child’s ball punctured.” Fury, bitter and burning as acid, rose in Charlotte’s gorge. “My cousin was foully murdered because of your obsession with . . .” She hitched in a breath. “With fame, with immortality, but most of all with your overweening hubris.”
DeVere’s smile was coolly mocking in its utter lack of emotion. “It seems you are a female of hopelessly overwrought sensibilities, Lady Charlotte. Wrexford is a pragmatic man, who doesn’t allow emotions to cloud his judgment. Perhaps he’ll shake some sense into you, once you’re under his thumb.”
Most people assumed Wrexford’s heart was carved out of granite and ice. They were much mistaken.
“Your delusions have only grown more pronounced,” replied Charlotte.
He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing, turning the irises black as onyx. “You seem to forget that I, too, lost a loved one. I don’t know exactly what happened in the laboratory, but any rational man would assume that you were responsible.”
Charlotte maintained a steely silence.
“My ward was very dear to me, and yet I’m willing to let bygones be bygones. I suggest that for the good of everyone, you do the same.”
“Is that a threat, Mr. DeVere?”
“Good heavens, no.” His well-shaped mouth curled upward. “I’m not the type of man who makes threats.”
No, your malevolence is far more subtle.
DeVere waited for a moment, but Charlotte decided not to give him the satisfaction of provoking a reaction.
“Speaking of wards, how is that delightful little boy for whom you serve as guardian?”
The floor suddenly felt as if it had tilted beneath her feet. Somehow she managed to maintain her equilibrium as he continued.
“Such a bright fellow, so full of curiosity and imagination,” continued DeVere. “You ought to send him to me for lessons in botany. He deserves to be tutored by someone with expertise in the subject so that his talents are properly nurtured.”
Over my dead body.
“Be assured,” she said, “that Wrexford and I have the boy’s education well in hand.”
“If you change your mind, you have only to ask.” He inclined a nod. “As I said, I don’t carry grudges.” A pause, and then he turned and walked back through the archway of the Cupola Room.
Charlotte waited until the shadows ceased fluttering before slumping back against the wainscoting, her rigid self-control crumbling. Every muscle in her body was quivering, and a sob welled up in her throat.
No, no, no.She couldn’t—she wouldn’t—allow DeVere to know he had found a chink in her armor. Predators pounced on a weakness. Sucking in a ragged breath, she swallowed hard—
“Charlotte?” Wrexford came around the corner and stopped. Then, in a heartbeat, he was holding her upright.
