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“If you please, Madame, I would prefer to hold it myself,” he said, shielding a gold watch and fob from her view.

“But it is necessary for the spirits to see,” Madame protested.

“Very well,” Adam said, moving closer to her. “What if I reveal my trinket to the spirits, will that suffice?”

“It is most irregular, Monseigneur . The spirits, they are accustomed to me alone.”

“Very well, Madame, if all that is necessary is for you to show the item to your corps d’ether , than do so.

” With a show of reluctance he handed her the timepiece.

She held it aloft, but her look of triumph was cut short as Adam’s hand clamped firmly over her mouth.

The spectators snickered as the silence lengthened.

“Well Barone,” Adam called. “The spirits can see it now. Do have them tell us what your charming wife is holding in her hand.”

“You disturb my ethereal guides, milord.” Barone declared.

“What a charming way to speak of your wife, monsieur . An ethereal guide, how very delightful. Name the object she holds, Barone.”

The conjurer’s hands began to shake. “I must consult with other forces since my spirit friends have momentarily deserted me. I fear that I must invoke the powers of Beelzebub.”

“In Lady Enderby’s ballroom? Tsk . . . tsk and she, a church-going woman.

” Adam shook his head, trying to keep his hold tight enough to evade Madame’s teeth.

“I am afraid that would never do. Besides, we all know that the Devil is rather busy in London these days, so appeals to him will do you little good now.”

“Perhaps Beelzebub will have mercy upon a poor magician.” Barone’s voice rose to a pleading whine. “If not for me, for the sake of Philippe.”

In the corner, Philippe’s hands were clasped together prayerfully. Adam relented. “Perhaps so, if Satan cannot have mercy upon his own spawn, who will?” Adam said withdrawing his hand and returning to his chair. “Maybe if I am seated, your spirit guides will return.”

Madame Barone’s expression was murderous, but her tones were steady as she spoke. “What do I hold in my hand, husband?”

“The spirits, they are returning, my dear. They were very worried about you and they send their apologies.”

“How very touching,” Adam commented, but Miss Wilton’s attention seemed firmly fixed forward.

“You are holding a gold watch, they say,” Barone declared.

“‘Husband’ must be their code for ‘watch,’” Adam observed after the conjuror’s wife returned his timepiece with a scowl. “A true performer, the Madame . Didn’t miss a beat and the show goes on.”

But there was no reply from the seat beside him. The presentation progressed rapidly to its close and the Barones took their bows. “I must thank you, Miss Wilton,” he said, as the audience applauded. “My wits had entirely deserted me.”

“As well as your decency,” she said, turning at last to regard him, her fury colder than the North Sea.

“Had I known your designs, sir, I would never have given you a clue. You very nearly ruined Lady Enderby’s entertainment, not to mention the featured premise of Barone’s performance.

He may be less than a perfect trickster, but he did not deserve the death blow that you so very nearly dealt his career.

How could you bully entertainers who were doing nothing more than earning their bread by providing a harmless diversion?

” she sputtered, under cover of the clapping.

“So, milord, since you have proven your superior knowledge is it now your intent to rip off Barone’s cape and show us all the secret pockets!

I vow you must have been the type of little boy who took pleasure in pulling the wings off of butterflies. ”

Such was his reward for good deeds, Adam thought glumly.

A public denunciation of the Barones would have been an infinitely more effective warning to all other would-be swindlers.

Now his standing with Miss Wilton was somewhat lower than a salamander’s stomach.

But he cheered himself with the knowledge that she would surely understand once he explained matters.

He would then, in all modesty, wave aside her apologies and her praise.

Perhaps she might even consent to a drive in the park.

Lady Enderby waved her hands for silence and the crowd gradually quieted.

“Our evening of magic is not quite ended. We are privileged tonight to have among us a most talented individual, a dear friend. Many is the autumn night I recall sitting before the fireside at Miss Moorehead’s select seminary.

The young girl who is now Lady Wodesby would read her cards for us all and I must say that everything that she had predicted for us came true. ”

As their hostess went on cataloguing Lady Wodesby’s successful predictions, Adam could not contain his snort of contempt. He leaned toward Miranda, intent on sharing his information.

“A pasteboard reader, Miss Wilton! I have heard of this Wodesby witch,” He whispered.

Miss Wilton turned towards him with an encouraging smile. “Have you really?” she asked him, with a coquettish sweep of her lashes.

Adam’s sense of discretion drowned in a sea of deep blue. “Indeed, the woman is notorious, and no better, I am certain than the Gypsies who prophesy the advent of tall dark men for every spinster.”

“In my experience, Gypsies have often been correct,” Miranda said. “A teller of fortunes once said that my fate was tied to a man who was handsome and clever.”

“By chance some of these predictions do come true.” Adam’s voice deepened.

By heaven, she was flirting with him. Her earlier anger seemed forgotten.

Handsome and clever, indeed! “However, as Lady Enderby says, Lady Wodesby is reputed to be more than a teller of fortunes. But perhaps I ought not to say that she is a witch. She might well turn me into a toad.”

“A tempting thought to be sure, but doubtful. Unfortunately, due to the difficulty of the spell involved, there are few documented cases of human beings transformed to amphibious creatures.” Miss Wilton declared, her expression entirely devoid of humor.

“However, to transform a toad like you to a human being, now that would be witchcraft indeed. You may be handsome, milord, but at present, I find you a rather poor excuse for a man.”

Adam could not quite credit his ears, but Miss Wilton’s countenance was thunderous. And then the reason for her anger presented itself with painful clarity.

“How could you, Mama?” Miss Wilton whispered, as Lady Enderby nattered on. “After all the lectures Damien and I endured on the misuse of magic.”

“Would you favor us, Adrienne?” Lady Enderby asked, coming to stand before Miss Wilton’s Mama. “Please say that you will give us a reading.”

“I fear I have not brought my deck,” Lady Wodesby protested weakly.

“I anticipated that possibility,” their hostess trilled beckoning to a waiting footman.

“Of course you did,” Lady Wodesby said with a fatalistic shrug, bending as she rose from her seat to address her daughter. “I was young, dear. Fate now demands that I pay the price for those youthful indiscretions.”

Lady Enderby took up the silver salver from the servant and presented it to Lady Wodesby.

As her mother fanned the deck, Miranda could see that it was a cheap set of pasteboards of the kind that any Fair-day fortune-teller would use.

Lady Enderby had provided the twenty-two Trumps that comprised the Major Arcana.

Of the Minor Arcana, the cards used to foretell detail, there was no sign at all.

Miranda watched anxiously her mother’s expression as she touched each card.

Surely she would not consent to this public travesty.

But as she completed her perusal of the deck, Lady Wodesby’s doubtful countenance changed to one of deep thought.

Miranda’s alarm grew. Those eyes, so like her own, gradually took on the jewel-like lapis hues that marked the vision of the Seer.

Her mother had crossed the bridge into that Otherwhere, Otherwhen, the distant shore where the sands of the present were pounded by the waves of the future.

And when she smiled, it was clear that the bliss known only to those of the Blood had kissed her.

Even before she spoke, Miranda knew that the decision had been made.

“Of course, Hester, I find myself willing to read, but only for one. And I shall do the choosing,” Lady Wodesby said, her words vibrating with portent. “I shall need a table and two chairs, at once.”

“I had hoped. . .” Lady Enderby began with a moue of disappointment, but quieted with a wave of Lady Wodesby’s hand.

“She must be a sorceress, indeed, to silence Hester so easily,” A voice behind them whispered in admiration.

Adam quickly conceded that Lady Wodesby was favored with a charismatic appeal that surpassed any performer that he had ever seen.

She moved majestically through the crowd, her graceful glide giving the appearance of treading on air.

Without a word, she created an atmosphere where the peculiar mixture of trepidation and anticipation was almost palpable.

Eager hopefuls shifted forward in their seats while the fearful withdrew to the farthest corner of their chairs upon her approach.

Only a consummate artiste could have an audience hanging silent upon her every move as she paused, in seeming consideration.

Her expression grew distant as if she consulted some unseen advisor, then went on, building expectations to a fever pitch.

All at once, Adam was distracted from his fascination by a meow at his feet. A mottled marmalade tom lifted its sleek feline head in regal regard. How in the world had a cat gotten into Lady Enderby’s ballroom?

“Thorpe?” Miranda whispered. “Whatever are you doing here? Return to the carriage, immediately.”

“Your familiar, Miss Wilton?” Some devil made Adam ask.