Jayne Krentz: Don’t Look Back

“She did not know you well.”

Lavinia smiled briefly. “Thank you for the compliment, Tobias.”

He shrugged. “It is nothing short of the truth. I would trust you with my deepest secrets. In fact, I have done so on more than one occasion.”

“And I would trust you with mine, sir.” She studied the line of his broad shoulders. Tobias could be stubborn and arrogant beyond belief, but one could entrust him with one’s life. “I believe we are even now establishing that fact.”

He nodded. “Proceed.”

“Yes, well, as I said, I got the impression that, although Jessica Pelling was extremely anxious about undergoing the experience, she also felt that she had little choice.”

“A desperate woman.”

“Yes.” Lavinia paused, recalling the events of that last session. “But not, I would have said, a despondent woman.”

Tobias glanced at her, surprise glinting in his intelligent eyes. “She was not suffering from melancholia, then?”

“I did not believe so at the time. As I said, during the first two visits we discussed the therapeutic nature of mesmerism. I described it to her as precisely as possible while she paced back and forth in front of my desk.”

Tobias unclasped his hands, straightened, and began to massage his left thigh with an absent air. “Mrs. Pelling sounds as if she was serious about seeking a cure for her nervous condition, but she no doubt distrusted the entire business of mesmerism. I can certainly comprehend the dilemma.”

“I am well aware that you have no use for the science. You believe that those who give therapeutic treatments with it are all charlatans and quacks, do you not?”

“That is not entirely true,” he said evenly. “I believe that some feeble-minded persons may be susceptible to a mesmeric trance. But I do not think that a practitioner would be able to impose his or her will on a man of my nature.”

She watched him massage his thigh and thought about the bullet he had taken in his leg several months ago. He had steadfastly refused her offer to use a mesmeric trance to ease the ache he frequently endured.

“Rubbish,” she said briskly. “The truth is that the thought of being put into a trance by me unnerves you so that you would prefer to suffer the discomfort of your wound rather than experiment with the procedure. Admit it, sir.”

“When I am around you, my dear, I always feel as though I am in a trance.”

“Bah. Do not try to fob off such uninspired compliments on me.”

“Uninspired?” He abruptly ceased rubbing his thigh. “I am crushed, madam. I thought it a rather charming riposte under the circumstances. In any event, my wound has healed quite nicely without the aid of mesmerism.”

“It pains you frequently, especially when the weather turns damp. It is giving you some trouble even as we speak, is it not?”

“I find a glass or two of brandy does wonders,” he said. “I shall have some as soon as I get home. Enough on that subject. Pray, continue with your tale.”

She switched her attention to the overgrown greenery in front of her. “When Jessica Pelling came to my rooms on the third and last occasion, I could see that she was distraught. She asked no more questions, but simply instructed me to put her directly into a therapeutic trance. I experienced no difficulty in doing so. Indeed, she was an excellent subject. I began to question her in an attempt to discover the source of her anxiety. To my great shock, she revealed that she was in mortal fear of her husband.”

“Oscar Pelling?”

“Yes.” Lavinia shuddered. “They had been wed for only a year, but she described a nightmarish existence.”

She summoned up the details of the last session with Jessica Pelling:

“… Oscar is angry again tonight.” Jessica spoke withthe unnatural calm of the entranced. “He says that I selected the wrong dishes for the evening meal. He claims that I did it deliberately to flout his authority as the master of the house. He tells me that I am defiant. He will have to punish me again… ”

Lavinia felt a cold chill in the pit of her stomach. “Did he hurt you last night, Jessica?”

“Yes. He always hurts me when he punishes me. He says it is my fault that he is forced to administer the blows.”

“What happened, Jessica?”

“He sends the servants to their quarters. Then he seizes me by the arm. He drags me to the bedchamber and he… he hurts me. He strikes me again and again.”

Lavinia searched Jessica’s attractive face. There was no sign of marks or bruises.

“Where does he strike you, Jessica?”

“My breasts. My stomach. Everywhere but my face. He is always very careful not to bruise my face. He says he does not want anyone to feel sorry for me. I am such a poor wife that I would surely take advantage of a black eye or a cut lip to try to elicit sympathy from those who do not know that I deserved to be punished.”

Lavinia stared at her, horrified. “Does he hurt you often?”

“The rages are becoming more frequent. It is as though he is coming closer and closer to losing control altogether. It is clear that he married me only to secure my inheritance. I think that soon now he will kill me.”

Lavinia pulled herself out of the memory of the dreadful session.

“I vow, I could not bear to hear any more of her sad tale,” Lavinia said. “I cut short the trance and told her what she had said to me.”

“How did she respond?”

“She was humiliated. At first she denied it. But I could see from the way she held herself that she was in pain that was of both a psychic and physical nature. When I confronted her with that observation, she broke down and wept.”

“What can I do?” Jessica said through her tears.

“Do?” Lavinia was stunned by the simple question. “Why, you must leave him at once, of course.”

“I have dreamed of leaving him.” Jessica dried her eyes with the handkerchief Lavinia gave her. “But he controls my fortune. I have no close family left to call upon for assistance. I cannot even afford a ticket for the stage to London. And what would I do if I did manage to escape? I have no way to make a living. I would end up on the streets. And I fear that Oscar would come after me. He cannot abide a defiant woman. He would punish me terribly when he found me. He might well kill me.”

“You must hide. You could take a new name. Declare yourself to be a widow.”

“Not without money.” Jessica clutched her reticule very tightly. “I am trapped.”

Lavinia looked at the ring that Jessica wore. “Perhaps there is a way…”

“It certainly does not surprise me that you got involved in the affair,” Tobias said dryly. “What did you do?”

“Jessica wore a very unusual ring. It was gold and set with colored stones and tiny, sparkling diamonds in the shape of a flower. I asked her about it. She told me that it had come down through her family and that she had worn it since she had left the schoolroom. It looked at least somewhat valuable.”

Tobias nodded matter-of-factly. “You urged Jessica to use the ring to finance her new life.”

Lavinia shrugged. “It seemed the obvious course of action. The only other solution to her problem that I could see was that she contrive to poison Oscar Pelling. Something told me that she would falter at the notion of murdering her husband.”

Tobias’s mouth edged upward slightly at one corner. “Unlike you?”

“Only as a last resort,” she assured him. “In any event, I thought the ring plan was the best. I knew that if she could get to London with it, she would be able to sell it for a reasonable sum. Not enough to allow her to live in luxury for any length of time, of course, but sufficient to give her a means to survive until she could establish herself in a career.”