"You didn't tell us you knew Miss Moreau," Myer said to Nathaniel.

"I wasn't aware you knew her." Nathaniel bowed smoothly, and when he straightened, his eyes danced over my face and figure. His smile broadened. "My humblest apologies, Miss Moreau. It's a pleasure to see you again. How long has it been now?"

"A matter of months," I said. "We came over on the S.S. Bombay together," I told the others. "Since neither of us suffered from seasickness, we often went out strolling the decks."

"The fresh sea air was very healthful."

My initial shock at finding him with the Myers was replaced by irritation at his snubbing of me at the station. "Why didn't you stop when you saw me at King's Cross yesterday?"

He frowned. "I didn't see you there."

"You must have. You looked directly at me."

"I'm so very sorry. You know me. I can be a little vague when my mind is on other things, as it was yesterday. Again, I am deeply sorry and didn't mean to cause offence." He bowed again and when he rose, his gray eyes were more silver than slate. He took my hand and pressed it between his own. "I hope you can forgive my poor manners. I shall have to make it up to you."

I couldn't help smiling at his effusive apology. "You're forgiven."

Quin stepped forward and glared at Nathaniel until he let go of my hand.

"It's good to see you again, Mr. Gladstone," Myer said to Samuel. "And who is your new friend?"

"Quintin St. Clair," Samuel said. "A friend of Cara's from Melbourne."

"From the other side of the world! I thought the colonies were hot places, yet you don't seem perturbed by our cooler climate, Mr. St. Clair." He indicated Quin's shirt with a flip of his hand.

"My luggage was lost on the voyage," Quin said, using the story we'd laid out on the journey to Mayfair.

"He has to make do until his new suit arrives," I said.

Quin extended his hand and Myer shook it. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Myer. Cara has told me much about you." He said it exactly as we'd coached him, yet I could still detect a hint of distrust in his tone.

Myer, apparently, did not. He puffed out his chest and gave his wife a triumphant smile. "Has she now? I assure you, only the good bits are true." He laughed and rocked back on his heels.

"Good lord," Edith Myer muttered with a roll of her eyes. "If you're going to stay then you might as well sit. Adamson, bring refreshments," she ordered the butler.

"We won't stay long," I assured her. Indeed, I had hoped not to see her at all. She might look innocuous, with her drab clothing and severe hairstyle that only widened already broad features, but she made me anxious nevertheless. Where Myer had all the power with his hypnosis, her tongue was dipped in vitriol and she wasn't afraid to wield it. Fortunately, she reserved her verbal lashings for her husband and had never directed her harsh words at anyone else. "We've come to ask permission to look through the society's library," I said. "Mr. St. Clair has an interest in the paranormal and has heard of the society. When I told him we were acquainted with its grand master, he became keen to meet you."

Myer threw his arms wide as he sat. He was as tall as his wife, but half her girth, with a face that would have looked too thin if it weren't for the abundance of sideburns. "Well, here I am in the flesh. Ask me anything you want, Mr. St. Clair. It's always a pleasure to meet a fellow scholar of the paranormal. Don't you agree, Faraday?"

"Of course, but, forgive me, you don't look like a scholar," Nathaniel said to Quin.

Quin merely shrugged.

"What do scholars look like?" I joked. "Me?"

He laughed. "Very amusing. No, I was thinking Mr. St. Clair looked like a prize fighter."

It was a little too close to the truth for my liking, so I changed the subject. "You have an interest in the paranormal, Nathaniel? I thought you were a historian."

"I am, but I have a confession to make. I'm actually a paranormal historian. I must apologize for not telling you, Miss Moreau."

"Call me Cara, like you did on board the Bombay."

He smiled again, baring all of his perfect white teeth. He really was very handsome, especially when he employed the full force of his charms. "Some people aren't so understanding about the supernatural, so I tend not to mention it until I know a person very well."

I suppose that was fair, since I hadn't told him I was a medium. "I completely understand."

"You do?" He looked relieved. "I was hoping I hadn't offended you again. I seem to be making a habit of it."

"Miss Moreau is a spirit medium," Myer said before I could recover enough from Nathaniel's earnest smile to inform him myself.

Nathaniel's eyebrows almost shot off his forehead. "You are? How intriguing. I've never met one before. How is it that you became one?"

"Perhaps you can discuss it another time," Samuel cut in. "Mr. St. Clair is keen to see the library."

"Aye," Quin said darkly. "I found some paranormal anomalies in Melbourne and wish to investigate what they mean while I'm in London."

"Really?" Myer leaned forward. "How interesting. Didn't you spend time in Melbourne, Faraday? Did you see anything unusual there too?"

My stomach plunged. If Nathaniel questioned Quin in detail about the city, we'd be in trouble.

"No," Nathaniel said.

I blew out a breath. Beside me, Samuel seemed to relax too.

"Can you describe these anomalies, Mr. St. Clair?" Myer asked.

"Merely a shift in the pattern of the air at a particular spot," Quin said. "It was cooler when it should have been warmer. That sort of thing."

"It sounds like the portal at the ruins. Don't you think, Gladstone, Miss Moreau?"

Samuel and I both nodded. Clearly Quin was describing what he felt at Frakingham Abbey.

"I will be eager for you to learn more, Mr. St Clair. I hope the society's books can tell you something."

"Such as how to close the portal once and for all," Mrs. Myer added.

"No!" Myer exploded. His face turned red and the veins above his collar popped out in thick blue ridges. "That would be foolishness indeed!"

She sniffed. "The portal at Frakingham seems to have caused problems—"

"It requires careful management, that's all." To the rest of us, he said, "If you learn how to close or destroy the portals, I beg you not to do so. It would be catastrophic for the surrounding area. In the case of Frakingham, it might destroy the house itself. You will find that information in one of the books in the library. It was one of the few things I could find out about portals."

"We won't attempt anything like that," I assured him. Aside from potentially destroying the Langleys' home, it would also stop Quin from coming and going between realms. It was necessary to allow him access; if not to fight demons then at least to keep him connected to the human world. To be completely cut off would be unimaginable.

Quin did not respond to Myer's plea. He sat as rigid as a pole in his chair, his expression unreadable.

"Forgive me." Myer turned to Samuel with an apologetic shrug. "I understand why Mr. St. Clair and Miss Moreau are here—she is his friend, after all—but why are you here, Gladstone?"

Samuel gave him a flat smile. "Insurance."

It took a moment for that to register with Myer, and when it finally did, he colored. "Oh. There is no need. You can trust me."

Nobody agreed or disagreed with him, not even his wife. She merely watched him through narrowed eyes. I felt a rush of sympathy for her. It mustn't be an easy life living with a man she not only disliked, but who hypnotized her into doing what he wanted.

"The society's library…" I began in an effort to swing the conversation back to less awkward matters. "When can we view it?"

"You'll be joining Mr. St. Clair?" Myer asked.

"Yes."

"How fortunate that he has such an agreeable companion. It will make the endless hours of research go much faster."

"My husband doesn't particularly like research," Mrs. Myer said as Adamson returned with a tray laden with tea things. "It's why he employed Mr. Faraday to do it for him. What a happy coincidence. The three of you can visit the society's library together."

"I don't mind research," Myer said before his wife had completely finished speaking. "But I seem to have come to a dead end. I'm hoping someone with more expertise will turn up something new."

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

"Details about the book of spells, of course, and where to find it."

"You no longer think it's located at the abbey ruins?"

"I don't know, since I no longer have access," he said pointedly. "Unless Langley sees fit to reverse his position and allow me access in exchange for allowing Mr. St Clair to look through the society's books."

"Mr. Langley doesn't care if Quin does or does not view your library," I said. "I am sorry," I felt compelled to add. We did need his permission to view the society's books, after all. It paid to remain polite.

Myer gave me another one of his non-committal smiles, while his wife's was more genuine, if somewhat triumphant. She seemed pleased that her husband's on-site research had been thwarted.

"Can we see the library today?" I asked.

Myer eyed Quin's shirt. "Perhaps tomorrow, when Mr. St. Clair is more suitably attired. The library is often frequented by gentlemen from the society who would be less understanding about his missing luggage than I."

"They are politicians, bankers and barristers," Mrs. Myer said. "Powerful and important men who set certain standards, for good or ill."

I huffed out an exasperated sigh. I wanted to get started immediately. Hopefully Quin's suit would arrive later today. "Tomorrow, then."

Myer nodded. "Meet me in St Michael's Alley, off Cornhill."

We had not finished our tea, but it seemed an appropriate time to leave and I wasn't keen to stay longer than necessary. I thanked our hosts and rose. Quin did too, but Samuel did not. I got a bad feeling about what was to come next.

"There's something that's been troubling me," he said lightly, as if he were simply chatting to an old friend. I knew otherwise, however, and I suspected Myer did too by the anxious look on his face.

"What is that, Gladstone?" he asked.

"You remember the spirit of the master?"

"How could I forget? I helped you capture him. Or the body of Clement, I should say. Poor fellow. I hear he's trying to recover the ground his company lost in the time he was taken over by the master's spirit. What of him?"

"He has finally crossed over, but before he did so, he told Mrs. Beaufort some interesting facts about himself."

"Such as?"

"Such as his name. Percy Harrington."

Myer gasped and swung round to his wife. "Did you hear that? Harrington!"

"I have ears," she retorted. "Poor Percy." She cocked her head to the side. "Do you mean to say he was the master who tormented—?"

"Yes," Samuel said, cutting her off before she could mention Charity by name. "While everyone is relieved that he's finally gone, the mystery remains. Who was the medium who helped him possess Clement?"

Myer shrugged. "Miss Moreau and Mrs. Beaufort are the only mediums I know of. If I learn of others, I will be sure to inform you. Now, if you don't mind, Faraday and I have work to do."

He stood, but Samuel did not. "Don't you think it odd that Harrington was associated with you, Myer?"

"An unhappy coincidence. I actually have very little to do with the bank. Harrington was an acquaintance only. I hardly cared whether he lived or died, frankly."

"Except that your wife inherited his fortune."

"Well that is a happy coincidence." He laughed.

Mrs. Myer shook her head in disgust at her husband's disregard for a life, albeit the life of a horrid man.

Samuel stepped up to him and grabbed Myer's waistcoat at his chest. He twisted it in his fist, lifting Myer onto his toes. "If I find out that you knew about Harrington's games, before or after his death, I'll gut you."

"I say!" Nathaniel cried. "That is uncalled for."

Samuel turned his head slowly and pinned Nathaniel with a glare so cold that I shivered.

"We should go," I said gently.

Quin rested a hand on Samuel's shoulder. Samuel let Myer go and stalked out the door. I hurried after him, tossing my thanks to the Myers as we left. Quin followed us both out and down the front steps.

"My apologies," Samuel said. He stopped at the waiting coach, his breaths coming hard and fast. The Beauforts' footman stood beside the open door, his gaze suitably vacant. "I shouldn't have let my anger get the better of me like that."

I took his hand. "It's all right. I understand your frustration and it was deserved."

"Do you think he spoke the truth about not knowing Harrington all that well?"

"It's possible," I said. "I do believe he spoke truthfully when he claimed not to care about banking matters. He does seem more interested in the paranormal than the company."

"I'm not sure it was always that way."

"Oh?"

He glanced past Quin at the sleek black door of the Myers' home. "Lady Preston told me that Myer had pursued Edith relentlessly, because of her fortune. He might not want to get involved in the running of the bank but he does want the comforts its wealth provides. I believe he was somehow involved with Harrington but I don't know how to prove it."

Neither did I. I glanced at Quin to see if he had any suggestions, but he was too busy observing everything around him. He watched the people opposite, strolling through Berkeley Square, then glanced up and down the street itself, taking in each of the buildings. I got the feeling he would like to experience the city rather than watch it pass by through the window of a coach.

"Shall we walk home, Quin? It's not far."

"Aye. It's a fine day."

"I'll go on without you," Samuel said. "I'm meeting Charity for luncheon to discuss wedding plans."

I kissed his cheek. "It is all over, Samuel," I said gently. "The master is gone and Charity is happy. That's all that matters."

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I know. You're right. I have to let it go or she'll never be at peace."

I was glad that he realized it.

Quin and I walked off, side by side, as the coach drove away with Samuel. "You performed admirably in there," I told him. "Nobody would have known that you were not from this time."

"If Faraday had asked me questions about Melbourne, we could have encountered problems."

"Thankfully he didn't. Let's hope he continues to be disinterested when we see him again tomorrow. It seems we're stuck with his company in the library." I wasn't sure how I felt about that. On the one hand, I looked forward to getting to know Nathaniel again, but on the other, we didn't want anyone connected with Myer to learn of our true plan.

"He will not trouble us for long."

I frowned up at him. "What do you mean?"

He didn't respond. He was too busy watching the gentleman and lady strolling toward us. Behind them was another couple; he also studied them intently. Once they passed, he thrust his elbow toward me.

"Take it," he said when I simply blinked. "It's customary for the ladies to hold onto the gentleman's arm in this time."

I didn't tell him that those couples must be well known to one another. They were not unwed acquaintances of marriageable age, like us. If Emily could see us, she'd warn me against being so familiar. My sister-in-law, Celia, however, would lecture me for an entire week on the proper behavior for young females. Thank goodness she was on the other side of the world.

We turned the corner and strolled past more of Mayfair's finest residences. Quin studied each of them with wonder. "The buildings here are magnificent. I've seen castle towers stretch that high, but not entire rows of houses."

"You'd be surprised at what else has changed since your last visit."

"Aside from the introduction of forks, privies and trains?"

I grinned. "Let's see. We have the postal service to deliver letters and typewriters to type them on. There are sewing machines and ovens, safety matches, and steamships. I came over from Melbourne on one." I pointed to the lamp atop the nearest post. "Some of our streetlamps use electricity instead of gas."

"We didn't have gas in my time. We didn't have lamps in streets."

"You tasted chocolate last night, but there's another confection called ice cream which you might like."

"You eat ice?"

"It tastes better than ice. There's a confectioner on Piccadilly who sells delicious flavors. I'll buy you one."

"I don't want you to buy me anything."

"Put away your masculine pride and let me buy you an ice cream. I insist."

He said nothing, but I gathered from his stiff jaw that he didn't like the idea of a woman holding the purse strings. I led him into the confectioner's on Piccadilly and he didn't object when I bought him a bowl of ice cream.

"I will find a way to repay you," he said, accepting the glass bowl and spoon.

I watched as he enjoyed his first lick of the confection, piled high in the bowl. His eyes widened and he nodded his approval. The ice cream didn't last long after that.

"Your time is interesting, Cara," he said after we handed the bowls and spoons back and left the shop. Piccadilly was a busy street in the middle of a sunny day, and I wondered if it had even existed in his time. It would have looked quite different if it had.

"I'm sure yours would be interesting to me if I went there."

He shook his head. "I wouldn't like you to visit, even if it were possible. No lady who gets about in coaches and is allowed her own money would survive long. Besides, there's neither ice cream nor chocolate."

"Completely barbaric," I joked.

He didn't laugh. "Aye, it is."

I quickly changed the subject and played tourist guide, pointing out anything I thought might be interesting. He listened intently and asked several questions. Once or twice he wanted to stop or detour, and he seemed particularly interested in the pastime of strolling through Hyde Park. We didn't go into the park itself, but looked in from Hyde Park Corner.

"You mean they aren't going anywhere?" he said, watching the strolling couples.

"They're walking for the sake of walking."

He pointed at a gentleman riding his horse through the arch into the park. "Is he going in there to ride?"

"Yes."

"Not hunt?"

"No. It would be far too dangerous to hunt with so many people around."

"Aye, but…what is the point?"

"To be seen, of course."

He shook his head. "Your time is interesting, but sometimes odd."

"Wait until you see someone riding a bicycle."

We wound our way through the quieter streets of Belgravia, away from the park. I was about to cross the road, but Quin held me back.

"We'll continue on this side," he said.

"Why?"

He shook his head, avoiding answering again. But the reason had just come to me. A narrow church nestled opposite. It was the one Emily and her family attended on Sundays, and I with them when in London.

"You can't possibly recognize it," I said. "It's not from your time."

"I don't." He seemed to know what I was referring to, even though I'd not mentioned the church as we walked hurriedly past on the other side.

I tightened my grip on his arm. "Enough, Quin. You have to explain what it is about churches that bothers you."

"They do not bother me."

"Then why do you recoil from them? You wouldn't even walk on the same side of the street as that one. I'm not asking you to go in."

My question was greeted with stony silence.

He'd told me he was human and not an angel, so he wasn't a heavenly creature, or from hell either for that matter. So why avoid places of worship? "Will something happen to you if you enter a church? Something…unpleasant?"

He jerked his arm free of mine and rounded on me. His nostrils flared, his eyes flashed like hard jewels, and his features twisted in anger. I shrank away. He'd claimed he was there to protect me, but at that moment, fear crept like ice through my veins.

 "Stop it!" he growled. "No more questions, wench." He walked off, his long strides quickly leaving me behind. I gathered up my skirts and raced after him, but my heeled shoes weren't made for running and the pavement was uneven. I tripped and fell, landing on my knees.

I looked up, only to see Quin hadn't noticed. He was still walking in the other direction. I felt the first tug of tiredness and the chill of fever when he was ten feet or so away. I shivered and battled to remain alert, focused, but darkness crowded close. I was going to faint.

Quin kept on walking. Surely he wouldn't abandon his promise to protect me, all because I dared question him?

But from the look of his rigid shoulders and long strides, that was exactly what he would do.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: If you're enjoying this book and can't wait for more, you can purchase the ebook from Amazon, iBooks, Google Play, Nook & Kobo for a small price. See www.cjarcher.com for more details. Thanks for reading!