Free The Spiritualist by Megan Chance Page B

tonight.”
    I’d put more hope into this meeting than I’d realized. Still, I persisted. “Are you certain? Have none of you heard from him at all?”
    “Not a word,” said Dudley.
    “I’m afraid not, my dear,” Jacob told me.
    Wilson Maull shook his head, and Sarah Grimm fingered the ruby at her throat—a little nervously, I thought—and said, “Not since that circle.”
    Michel Jourdain was noticeably silent.
    “What about you, Mr. Jourdain?” I asked pointedly. “Did my husband visit you again that night?”
    “I’ve not seen him, Madame ,” he said. “It seems none of us has.”
    I didn’t disbelieve them, but I didn’t quite believe them, either. “I was so certain he had returned here.”
    “Oh, child, I wish he had,” Dorothy said with a troubled expression. “Perhaps we could have dissuaded him from pursuing this any further. Such bother over a silly misfire.”
    “Dissuade Peter?” Michel lifted a brow. “ Non, ma chère , not possible.”
    “Of course, you’re right,” she agreed with a sigh. “Once Peter gets an idea in his head, it takes heaven and earth to move him.”
    “Didn’t you find it so, Madame ?” Michel asked.
    They were both looking at me as if they expected me to agree, and so I found myself nodding, saying, “Yes, of course,” though their simple observation was a revelation to me, and I realized in dismay that they were right. It was one of the reasons my husband and I were so often at odds. “I am the husband here, Evie! God, I could strangle your father. Instead of teaching you Plato, he should have been teaching you how to be a wife.”
    I winced at the memory of Peter’s words, and when I looked at Michel, I saw he was watching me.
    “I’m sorry we couldn’t be more help,” he said, but I had the impression he was not that sorry at all.
    “There is one thing we could try, I suppose,” Robert Dudley said thoughtfully. “With Evelyn here, we’ve the affinities we need.”
    “Oh, of course,” Grace said. “Won’t you stay for a circle, Evelyn?”
    It was the last thing I wanted to do, but Peter had said he wanted questions answered, and who else would have answers but those who had been present? He must have talked to one of them, and I was determined to find out who it was.
    “Do you really think a circle could help?” I asked.
    Wilson Maull nodded so his fiery curls shook about his head. “Assuredly. The spirits care deeply for the world they’ve left behind. They watch over everything. I’m certain one of them could tell us Peter’s whereabouts.”
    “You must stay, child,” Dorothy said. “The spirits could ease your worries. Michel, tell her to stay.”
    Michel dug into his vest for a handkerchief, which he pressed to his lips, as if he would cough, though he didn’t. Dorothy looked worried.
    “My dear boy—”
    He ignored her concern and looked at me. “Dorothy wants you to stay, Madame . Surely you won’t disappoint her? Or me?”
    I gave him a stiff smile. “I wouldn’t dream of disappointing either of you.”
    “Excellent!” Robert Dudley said. “Shall we begin then?”
    I stood back as Michel escorted Dorothy to the table. He helped her into her chair and pulled up the footstool for her feet. He leaned close to listen to her, laughing at something she said. Dorothy glowed in response. When he started to his seat, she grabbed his arm to forestall him, and then let him go with a reluctant and foolish smile.
    Like a young girl in love . How easily he worked her. I could not fault him for trying. Dorothy was a grown woman. To be a fool or not was every person’s prerogative.
    I realized the others were sitting, and the only vacant chair was the one next to Michel Jourdain, where I’d sat before.
    “Come, Madame ,” he called to me.
    I made my way to the table. He took my hand, and once again, his grip was too tight, and he was too close, and I felt the deliberateness of it.
    Grace Dudley dimmed the lights, and the circle