The Wrong Girl(42)

"You're still mad," I said.

He folded his arms and tucked away his hands, but not before I saw the pink flesh on his fingertips.

"I thought you said you could control your anger." I nodded at his hands. "And...that."

"I can."

Which meant he'd wanted to hurt Langley. And me? I swallowed heavily.

He unfolded his arms and his shoulders sagged. "You don't need to fear me, Violet. Not ever. I wouldn't deliberately hurt you."

"Then—"

"Why did you do it?" he asked. "Why did you tell him where I went?"

"So you did see me?"

"You and Gladstone. I lost you on the way home, however, so tell me...why?"

"I didn't tell him anything. What could I possibly gain?"

"Perhaps you're still angry at me for kidnapping you."

"I'm not. How could you think such a thing after..." After the connection we'd made. "Why didn't you tell me you'd seen me?"

"I hoped you'd talk to me of your own accord. But you didn't, and when August confronted me just now, I assumed you'd gone straight to him." He blew out a measured breath. "I'm sorry, Violet. Forgive me?"

I nodded. How could I not when he peered at me through the hair that had flopped over his eyes? He looked like a scolded puppy.

"So if it wasn't you," he said, "it must have been Gladstone."

"What reason would Samuel have to tell Langley? And how would he have gotten word to Frakingham so quickly?"

"So it's Samuel now, is it?"

"I call you Jack."

I wanted him to tell me that it was different between us, that the bond we'd forged so quickly made everything different. He did not.

"Why was he there at all?" he asked instead.

I decided it was better to be honest with him than skirt the issue. Well, partially honest. "He wanted to tell me that my memory block may have been deliberately put there by a hypnotist."

His jaw dropped. "Who would do such a thing?"

I told him what Samuel had told me about his own natural gift for hypnosis, and how he'd stumbled upon the ability by accident.

"What did Dr. Werner have to say about this suggestion?" Jack asked.

"He doesn't believe natural hypnotists exist, and so doesn't endorse the notion of deliberately blocking memories. That's why Samuel came to me at Claridges. He wanted to speak to me away from Dr. Werner."

He leaned against the stones that formed one of the crumbling arches. "It sounds too extraordinary to be true."

"So does shooting sparks from your fingers."

"Can Gladstone remove this block for you?"

"No. He thinks it can only be done through stimulating the same emotion that triggers my narcolepsy...and my fire starting. A very strong stimulation that is, more than usual."

"Hmmm."

"Hmmm? What does that mean?"

"It means that I'm not sure I entirely trust Samuel Gladstone. In many ways, the ability to hypnotize someone is far more dangerous than our talent. I admit that I don't like it."

"Don't like his talent or don't like him?"

His gaze slid away. "They're one and the same."

"So you still think he's the one who told your uncle?"

"Who else could have? I want to believe it wasn't you," he added in a whisper.

"It wasn't. I give you my word."

"Then it must have been him. A fast rider carrying a message would have easily reached Frakingham before us." He pushed off from the stones. "We should return to the house and resume your training."

"Is there any point now that we know about the blockage?"

"We can only keep trying."

He took his horse's reins, and we walked together back to the house. The gray clouds hung low overhead, and the air felt charged, thick, although that could have been due to the silence between us.

When I could stand it no longer, I said, "How do you know Patrick?"

"I just do."

"But—"

"Do you need to know everything, Violet?"

We'd reached the point where we needed to go our separate ways. He directed his horse off to the stables, and I headed for the main house. Yes, I wanted to tell him. Yes, I do need to know everything about you. Even though I couldn't tell him everything about myself. Not yet.

One day, however, he would know it all. And I would know every detail of Jack Langley's life, even if it meant finding out things I didn't like.

***

We trained for the remainder of the day. Jack tried various techniques to help me 'feel the heat' through my body, as he put it. Nothing worked, of course, and we ended our session at dinnertime. He seemed quite frustrated by our lack of progress, and I admit I was growing anxious about telling him the truth. The longer I lied, the harder it would be to admit that I wasn't Violet Jamieson and the worse his reaction would be.