Page 20 of Mesmerized

The room was quiet as Valenskaya took her seat. A kerosene lamp sat in the middle of the table, casting a soft circle of light around them. Olivia cast a quick glance around the room. Stephen’s features might have been set in stone, his gray eyes cool and watchful. Lady St. Leger’s face, unlike her son’s, was filled with anticipation. Belinda, too, looked excited, but Pamela’s expression was more bored than anything else. Irina’s face, at the opposite corner from Olivia, was partially in shadows and difficult to read. Babington’s countenance, however, shone with something close to adoration as he gazed at the medium beside him.

“Now we will join hands to complete the circle of energy, and open our hearts and our minds to our visitors from the other world,” Irina explained in a quiet voice. “Then I will turn out the light.”

“Darkness is more conducive to the spirits,” Lady St. Leger explained in a whisper to Olivia, reaching out to take her right hand.

All around the table, they joined hands. Stephen’s firm hand slipped around Olivia’s, and she clasped it, hoping to hide the sudden quiver that had run through her flesh at his touch. Irina reached out and turned down the oil lamp until they were encased in velvety darkness. There was no sound except the soft susurrations of breath around the table. Olivia was vividly aware of the feel of Stephen’s skin against her own. Warm and firm, slightly callused, his hand engulfed hers. Her breath came shallowly in her throat; her hand felt hot and tingly, a feeling that was inexplicably spreading up her arm and down into her torso, twisting through her chest and abdomen.

So focused was she on their linked hands that she did not even think about Madame Valenskaya until the woman groaned at the other end of the table. Olivia flushed with embarrassment and was glad for the enveloping darkness that had hidden both her blush and her prior lack of attention to the job at hand.

She peered in the direction of the groan, and at that moment a glowing hand appeared in the darkness above the medium’s head. Fingers slightly curled, it moved around for a bit, then slid down and out of sight.

“Spirit? Are you there?” This was Babington’s voice, beside Madame Valenskaya.

Olivia wondered why it was not the medium herself who was communicating with the spirits, but then Madame Valenskaya’s voice murmured, “Yes.”

“Welcome, spirits,” Babington said in greeting, enthusiastic but still keeping his voice hushed. Around Olivia, most of the others echoed his words.

“Are you Running Deer?” Lady St. Leger asked beside Olivia.

There was a pause, and then the same throaty voice said, “No.”

Olivia felt Lady St. Leger’s hand stiffen in surprise in her own. Across the table, Irina said, “Pray, spirit, tell us who you are, then.”

Again the voice came, low and halting. “Rod-dy. I am Roddy.”

Chapter Four

STEPHEN’S HAND TIGHTENED convulsively around Olivia’s as he let out a soft oath, and on the other side of her, Lady St. Leger gasped, her hand jerking out of Olivia’s grasp to fly to her mouth.

“Roddy?” Lady St. Leger asked, her voice trembling and eager. “Roderick, is that really you?”

“Yes, Mother. I am here. Pamela, my love. You are looking very beautiful tonight.”

“Roderick!” Pamela said urgently. “Where are you? Let me see you!”

“You cannot,” he replied. “I am too new here.”

“Here? Where are you, Roddy?” Lady St. Leger asked, tears thickening her voice. “Are you happy?”

“I am among the shades,” the low voice continued in its odd, jerky way. “But I cannot rest. None of us can rest.”

“What?” Lady St. Leger’s voice registered alarm. “Why not? Darling, are you unhappy?”

“There are many lost souls here. This house—they cannot rest.” The voice grew fainter and more whispery. “They cannot rest because of what was taken away from them. I cannot rest, Mother.”

“Roddy!” Lady St. Leger cried out, her voice full of distress. “No, please—”

“Bloody hell!” Beside Olivia, Stephen pulled his hand away from Olivia’s and crashed it down flat on the table. “What rubbish!”

“Stephen!” Lady St. Leger exclaimed reprovingly. “No! You must not interrupt.”

“He is gone!” Madame Valenskaya proclaimed with disgust. “Our spirits haff left us.”

Olivia reached out and pulled the oil lamp to her and lit it, turning it up. The faces of those around the table appeared again, blinking a little in the new light. Lady St. Leger’s cheeks, Olivia saw with a stab of pity, were streaked with tears.

“You haff frightened dem away,” the medium said accusingly, glaring at Stephen.

“Nonsense. As if there were any here to begin with.”