Mesmerized. Candace Camp

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СКАЧАТЬ there you are,” Thisbe said as she came into the entry from the back hall. “I thought you were working on your Latin upstairs.”

      Con’s mouth twisted in a grimace. “It made me sleepy. I hate Latin.”

      “Well, you can’t get out of it,” Thisbe said. “You know Papa insists on it. And, besides, you have to know Latin if you hope to be a biologist. Or a doctor,” she added, turning her gaze to Alexander.

      “On a more immediate note...” said an amused voice from above them, and they all looked up to see Kyria, in an elegant emerald-green gown, her flaming red hair done in an intricate pattern of curls, descending the stairs. “If either of you hopes to live past ten and a half, you might want to retrieve your boa constrictor. It was traveling down the hall toward the back stairs when I stepped out of my room just now. You know what Cook will do if it enters her kitchen.”

      The two boys, who had a healthy respect for Cook and the great metal cleaver she had threatened to use on the next “devilish serpent” that entered her domain, cast an alarmed glance at each other and started off at a run toward the kitchens.

      “Hallo, Thisbe. Liv. Have you been out this evening?” Kyria cast a glance at Olivia’s hat.

      “Yes. How did you—oh!” Olivia realized that she had not removed her cloak and bonnet. She glanced back at the footman, who was still hovering behind her. “I’m sorry, Chambers. I quite forgot.”

      “Perfectly all right...miss.” The footman had to force out the last word. He had not been here long, and it was still difficult for him to address Olivia with the egalitarian “miss” that she preferred instead of the “my lady” to which she’d been born.

      Olivia handed him her cloak and hat and turned back to her sisters. Kyria had sauntered down the last few steps to the bottom of the staircase, but she still towered over Olivia by several inches, as did the willowy, dark-haired Thisbe. Olivia was dishearteningly accustomed to it. She was the only one in her family who was not tall, except for her great-uncle Bellard.

      “Where are you off to?” she asked Kyria, who carried an elegant satin evening cloak over her arm.

      “Lady Westerfield’s soiree,” Kyria answered. “It will probably be quite dull, but it was the best of the offerings tonight.” She sighed. “The season is almost over.”

      “Oh, my, and whatever will you do?” Thisbe said with a large dose of sarcasm.

      Kyria raised a brow at her sister. “Really, Thisbe, one doesn’t have to mess about with chemicals to lead a worthwhile life.”

      “Of course not. But with your abilities, one ought—”

      It was a long-standing argument—or discussion, as their mother preferred to call it—between the sober-minded Thisbe and her flamboyant, fun-loving younger sister, and Olivia cut in quickly to ward it off. “Kyria?”

      “Yes, dear?” Kyria turned back to Olivia. She never minded her little tussles with Thisbe; in fact, she rather enjoyed them. But she was well aware that Olivia hated to see anyone in her family quarrel.

      “Do you know—have you ever met Lord St. Leger?”

      “Do you mean the new one? Or Roderick?”

      “I—the new one, I suppose. Who is Roderick?”

      “He was Lord St. Leger, but he died, oh, about a year ago. A hunting accident, as I remember.”

      “Well, no, this man was very much alive.”

      “You met him? Tonight?” Kyria’s brows went up with interest. “Is he handsome?”

      “Well, yes, I suppose one could say that. He has, well, rather devastating gray eyes, almost silver, one would say, if one were inclined to say things like that.”

      “I see.” Kyria’s eyes turned speculative. “Well, I’m afraid I don’t know much about him. I have never met him. He came back to take over the title after his brother died, but he’s been living on the estate ever since he returned. There has been a great deal of speculation about him, of course, because he is unmarried and something of a catch. Apparently he has been living in the United States for the past few years and made a fortune there. I didn’t know he was even in London. How did you meet him?”

      “He was at a séance that I went to tonight.”

      “He’s one of those?” Thisbe asked with scorn.

      “No. He doesn’t seem to believe in it at all. I’m not sure why he was there, really, but he mistook me for an accomplice of the medium!” Her voice rose in remembered indignation.

      “No! Why?”

      “I had gotten up to go to the medium’s cabinet and open it to show her untied and holding up those silly pictures she does—but then he grabbed me, and of course it was all ruined.”

      “He grabbed you?”

      “Yes, by the arm. You see, he thought I was going to put on a ghost act myself. And of course there was a tremendous hubbub about it, and they ejected us from the séance.”

      Laughter bubbled up from Kyria’s throat. “Oh my. That must have been quite a scene.”

      “Yes. But the thing is...” Olivia hesitated, and her sisters’ attention sharpened.

      “The thing is?” Thisbe prodded, and Kyria took Olivia’s arm and guided her over to a bench against the wall of the entry. Gesturing for the footman, she handed him her cloak and motioned him away, then sat down on the bench with Olivia, Thisbe providing the opposite bookend.

      “What is it?” Kyria questioned her in a low voice. “Are you—well, have you developed any feeling for this man?”

      “Kyria!” Olivia gave her a horrified look. “No! How can you ask that? I just met him.”

      “Sometimes it does not take long,” Thisbe, usually the most pragmatic and logical of the sisters, interjected.

      “The thing is...well, when he grabbed my wrist, it jolted me. I actually screamed, I was so surprised. And scared.”

      “Of course. Who wouldn’t be?” Kyria sympathized.

      “But then they lit the lamp and I saw who my captor was, and the oddest thing happened. Even though I did not know him at all, and even though he was looking at me quite fiercely, I was no longer afraid.”

      “Well, I suppose you saw that he was a gentleman and not a ghost or some such. It is what we cannot see that is the most fearsome, ofttimes,” Thisbe said.

      “But it was more than that. I felt the oddest sensation. This sort of tingle ran up my arm, and for just an instant I felt—oh, I don’t know. This sounds mad, I know, but I felt as if I knew him. Yet at the same time I was sure that I had never seen him before. Of course then he made me quite irritated, and the feeling fled. But still...there was that instant. I don’t know what to make of it.”

      For a moment both sisters looked at her. Then Thisbe said calmly, “It’s chemistry.”

      “What?”

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