"The problem is that no one trusts spirit photographs^. any more." Elsworth was clearly bored. "Too easily faked, I'm afraid."

"Like so many things," Adam said.

Caroline shot him a reproving glance. He pretended not to notice.

"Shall we go, my dear?" he asked. "It is getting late." "I am in no rush," she said.

"You have evidently forgotten our appointment," he added, maneuvering her toward the door.

For a moment he feared she would dig in her pretty heels but instead she made her good-byes to Reed and Elsworth.

Outside on the front steps of Wintersett House, Caroline paused to remove her dainty green parasol from the chatelaine that secured it to her waist and opened it with a snap. "Really, Mr. Hardesty, there was no need to be rude. Mr. Reed is not only the president of the Society, he has done a great deal to promote serious, scientific psychical research."

"Scientific psychical research? Now there's a contradiction in terms if ever there was one."

"And as for Mr. Elsworth, you should know that in some quarters he is considered to be the heir to the crown of D. D. Home. They say that like Home, he can actually levitate his body."

"If you believe that, Mrs. Fordyce, may I suggest an interesting investment opportunity that has recently come to my attention? It involves a diamond mine in Wales. The stones are just lying about on the ground there, waiting to be scooped up by anyone with a bucket. You are bound to make a fortune."

"That is not amusing, sir. For your information, Mr. Elsworth has been examined several times by psychical re-searchers and pronounced genuine. One investigator claims that both Mr. Home and Mr. Elsworth may have descended from werewolves and that is why they have such extraordinary powers."

He looked at her, brows raised, and said not one word. She had the grace to blush.

"Very well," she said gruffly, "I'll admit that particular thesis is rather unlikely. But I would remind you that Mr. Elsworth has something else in common with D. D. Home. His sitters have included the most exclusive people in London"

"I have news for you, madam. It has been my experience that the exclusive sort are just as gullible as everyone else."

"They say the queen herself requested a séance after Prince Albert died."

"Yes, I have heard that gossip." He guided her down the

steps. ^"Unfortunately, grief-stricken people, no matter their rank, are notoriously easy victims for those who would take advantage of them."

"I do not know why I even bother to try to hold a logical discussion on psychical research with you. It is obvious that your skeptical opinion has been set in granite."

"That is not true" He angled her across the street to-ward his carriage, a dark, unadorned vehicle that could easily be mistaken for an anonymous cab. Because the vehicle did not draw attention on the street, he preferred to use it on the occasions when he elected not to walk to his destination. "As it happens I am very eager to discuss the psychical talents of one particular individual."

"And who might that person be?" she asked, looking quite wary.

"Why, you, of course, Mrs. Fordyce. I cannot wait to hear all of the details concerning the demonstration of psychical powers that you gave at Mrs. Hughes's tea"

Durward Reed waited until the pair had disappeared through the front doors of Wintersett House before he turned back to his companion.

He did not care for Julian Elsworth. With his aristocratic airs, cold intelligence and strange psychical talents, the man made him nervous. There were times when he was convinced that Elsworth privately held him in contempt. But there was no denying that, with his entrée into Society, Elsworth had brought a great deal of important attention and credibility to Wintersett House.

"The more Mrs. Fordyce denies her own gifts, the more I am convinced that she does indeed possess them," Durward mused aloud. "I must find a way to overcome her natural, entirely proper feminine qualms and convince her that she could make a tremendous contribution to the field of psychical research."

Elsworth shrugged. "She makes her living as a writer, not a medium. If you want to gain her attention, I suggest you offer her a contract for one of her novels."

Durward was briefly struck dumb by the cleverness of the suggestion.

"Good lord, man," he said when he could find his voice, "that is a brilliant notion. If I published her next book in New Dawn, I could attract an enormous number of new readers and a great deal of attention to the field. I must give this some close thought."

Inspired, he rushed off toward his office to ponder the details of the plan that was already taking shape in his mind.

No doubt about it, Elsworth was an enormous asset, even if he was decidedly unnerving.

"It was all a great misunderstanding," Caroline said, looking both annoyed and resigned. "My so-called demonstration of psychical powers was meant to be nothing more than an amusing entertainment for Mrs. Hughes and her guests."

"An entertainment?"

"My aunts play cards with Mrs. Hughes and her friends several times a week. They asked me to stage the performance as a surprise. Emma and Milly were aware that in the course of my recent research, I had learned some of the tricks used by those who profess to possess psychical powers. They thought the ladies would enjoy a demonstration of how the practitioners achieve their effects."

"Mrs. Hughes, I gather, took your parlor tricks seriously?"

"I'm afraid so," she said. "It transpired that she has friends who are active in the Society for Psychical Investigations. One of them, in turn, spoke with a correspondent for the Flying Intelligencer." She widened her hands, palms up. "One thing led to another and the next thing I knew there was an item in the paper. It was all rather awkward, to say the least."

"Typical sensation journalism. Very few facts embedded amid a vast amount of melodramatic fiction."

She wrinkled her nose. "I will admit that at times the press does not always report events with the accuracy one would like." She broke off, glancing around with an air of abrupt concern. "Where are we going? I must return to Corley Lane. I have several more pages to complete today."

"I will see you home in my carriage, Mrs. Fordyce."

"Oh" She hesitated, looking taken aback, as though the notion of allowing him to escort her back to Corley Lane had disconcerted her.

Across the way, his coachman, Ned, saw them approaching. He jumped down from the box to open the door of the vehicle.

Caroline appeared to come to a decision. When they reached the far side of the street, she halted near the carnage.

"Thank you, Mr. Hardesty, but I took a hackney cab to Wintersett House today. I intend to return home in the same manner."

Her unwillingness to get into his carriage annoyed him more than he wanted to admit. He cast about for a lure he could use to entice her into the vehicle.

"Very well, Mrs. Fordyce, you must do as you please," he said, politely regretful. "I had hoped to take the opportunity to discuss our observations of Irene Toller's performance today while they are still fresh in our minds, but if you insist on returning home on foot—"

She looked startled. "You wanted to compare notes?"

"Yes. It had occurred to me that together we might come up with some conclusions that could well elude either of us independently."

Excitement sparkled in her eyes. "I see. I hadn't considered that possibility."

"However, if you do not wish to accompany me, I certainly understand. I realize that our association did not get off to a promising start. My fault entirely."

"Hmm." She glanced at the waiting carriage with an uneasy expression.