Page 28 of A Dangerous Vision

Electra did not wish to cause her friend distress, but she needed to know more.

“And what of you and Mr. Pennington?”

Cordelia turned her face away from Electra and murmured, “Yes, I had my own entanglement.”

Electra cleared her throat. “Do you think you might have given him my card?”

Cordelia sniffed and looked over at Electra, eyes wide. “Oh, I don’t believe so. Why would I?”

Electra shrugged. Minutes ago, she had not known of any connection between herself and the man at all, but now there was this…tie to Cordelia. And to Kit.

“Did Kit know about your relationship with Mr. Pennington?”

“Yes, he knew. And he also knew I’d done everything in my power to put an end to it.” Cordelia turned to Electra. “Please understand that Kit and I have forgiven each other, and we have put these matters behind us.”

“I understand.” Yet Electra didn’t. Not entirely. “When, if I may ask, did you sever your connection to Mr. Pennington?”

“It was months in the making, to be quite honest. I knew that all I truly wanted was to reconcile with my husband. But Percival was not willing to accept my decision.” She shook her head, tightening her hold on the handkerchief Electra had given her. “It had gone too far, and I did not wish it to go any further.”

“He did not agree?”

Cordelia shook her head. “Regrettably, no. Which made no sense to me. When I told him I wished for our association to end, he responded precisely the opposite of how I expected. He was engaged to a young lady. I thought he might be relieved to proceed with that marriage, unfettered. Instead, he broke the engagement, and then he came to me with a proposal.”

“He was engaged to this young lady while you were⁠—”

“Yes,” Cordelia rushed to say. “And by breaking his engagement, he put himself in danger of legal action by the young lady's father, who wanted to take him to court for a breach of contract.”

Electra stomach twisted with each new detail she learned. She considered how Gideon would perceive these revelations, and she realized that Cordelia and Kit might be drawn into the case of Mr. Pennington’s death. Their secrets might be exposed.

“When was the last time you or Kit spoke to Mr. Pennington, Cordelia?”

Her friend drew in a long breath. “Quite recently. Kit spoke to him two weeks ago, and then I met with him yesterday afternoon.”

“Oh, Cordelia.” All the air seemed to freeze in Electra’s lungs. “Do you know anything about what happened to him?”

Cordelia bolted up off the settee, as if anxiety had filled her too completely to remain seated. She paced the floral rug that stretched the length of the room, to the mantel and then back to Electra, where she turned to her, eyes wide.

“Electra,” she said, almost pleadingly, “you cannot possibly think that I or Kit had anything to do with what happened to Percival.”

“I don’t⁠—”

Cordelia stuck out her arm. “Touch my hand. Read my thoughts. My memories. You’ll see that when I left Percival yesterday, he was very much alive. He was not pleased with me or my decision, but I would never wish harm upon him.”

Electra stared at her friend’s outstretched hand, uncertain if she should take it. Wanting to see and yet fearing that she might glimpse something that would implicate her friends.

“Please, Electra.” Cordelia sat beside her again, body turned toward hers. “Touch my hand and see whatever you may.”

Electra took a few slow breaths, trying to stem her own anxiety, then reached out and took her friend’s hand. Cordelia was trembling, her color high, eyes shining in the gaslight.

Though closing her eyes was not a requirement for Electra to use her abilities, she found that it helped her to shut out all other images and focus on those in her mind.

Closing her eyes, she found herself clasping her other hand over Cordelia’s too, enclosing her friend’s shaking hand between her own.

At first, she saw nothing, just the darkness behind her closed eyes. Then a steady, repetitive sound played in her ears, and she realized she was in a train car. Kit sat across from her, smiling warmly, then reached out to take Cordelia’s hand.

The memory soon shifted, and she stood in the sunlight, strolling through a park. Hyde Park. The Serpentine stretched out ahead and someone’s sleeve brushed hers. Electra looked up to find a handsome man at Cordelia’s elbow—dark hair, sharp features, eyes that were likely brown but looked as light as honey in the daylight. He smiled too, then took Cordelia’s arm and hooked it around her own. The images shifted to the darkness of a carriage’s interior. The same man gripped her hand, and she pushed at him as he surged forward, tears in his eyes. “Please” he seemed to be saying. “Please, Cordelia.”

In the memory, Cordelia shoved past him, scrambling down to the pavement, glancing back once before rushing away.