The Thirteenth Earl by Evelyn Pryce Page B

even if he was scowling at the other end of the spread of food. She sensed that he was having the exact amount of fun that she was at the party; that is to say, none at all. The error of their kiss had done something to her brain, rearranged it in an irreversible way.
    “It would help if you closed your eyes,” Lucy advised, her own shut tight, her face placid. “I can feel all of your minds wandering.”
    Though Cassandra did not believe this woman for an instant, she felt she should give it a go. Miles’s eyes had fluttered shut along with Spencer’s. Eliza looked over at her, lips quirked up to one side. “Nonsense,” the countess mouthed before shutting her own eyes gamely. Cassandra felt Thaxton squeeze her hand, and she turned her head ever so slightly to look at him, the one open pair of eyes at the table.
    Concentrate? With him next to her?
    He smiled and looked away, his lids dropping. She closed her own eyes, though it seemed ridiculous. Yes, she had heard something in this room, but that something was not going to use Lucy as a conduit from the beyond. It was not possible.
    “That’s better,” Lucy said in a softer voice. “Spirits, if you are here, we invite you to be at ease. We mean no harm; we seek confirmation. We would be honored and grateful should you choose to make your presence known.”
    Cassandra had never heard such a lot of hogwash. If she were a spirit, the last thing she would be doing would be hanging around waiting to talk to Lucy Macallister. An obstinate silence filled the air.
    “We invite you to rap on the table if you are here.”
    More silence, enough that Cassandra was ready to suggest that the experiment had been a failure. A loud rap startled her, and her eyes shot open. Lucy’s were shut, but everyone else’s eyes had also opened wide. They all exchanged looks.
    “Did . . . you?” Spencer asked, addressing all of them at once.
    “Lord Spencer, please,” Lucy said in a soothing tone. “It is a delicate time. I understand initial contact is rattling, but I know you can all resume concentration. The energy of this group is very powerful. Complete silence, please.”
    Thaxton’s hand went still, no more wandering fingers. His eyes were already shut, and his face had gone tight—did he believe this? Cassandra, aghast, watched the rest of the table close their eyes again, their faces etched with apprehension and fright. Even Eliza had scooted closer to her husband, an arm’s length from Miles, who clutched her fingers in a frozen grip.
    Cassandra’s eyebrows drew together. They all believed it. What could have come over them? Eliza, who had been so sure that there could not possibly be supernatural activity in her house, hung on to Percy, actually afraid. Lucy swayed back and forth a bit. Thaxton held the medium’s hand with two fingers, whereas he held hers so snugly that she felt his bones moving beneath.
    “We sense you, honored spirit,” Lucy said, her voice melodramatic. “We thank you for being open to communicate. May we ask you some questions? Rap once for yes, and twice for no. Can you do this for us?”
    One solid rap.
    Cassandra looked all around the room. Where was it coming from? There was a dumbwaiter in the corner. Did Lucy have an accomplice hiding there? She could not see that far, but it was a strong prospect.
    “Are you the spirit whom Miss Seton and Lord Thaxton heard a few nights ago?”
    Another knock, a single for yes. Thaxton opened his eyes. Even in the midst of all the lunacy, his perfection took Cassandra aback. Not that he was unflawed, no, but he was everything she would have listed if asked to describe a handsome man. Now with a dreadfully fetching crease of confusion drawing his eyebrows into a straight line.
    “Can this be true?” he asked under his breath.
    “I sincerely doubt it,” she said, not loud enough for Lucy to hear. Miles did, though, and it earned her a harsh “shh.” Cassandra frowned. After the miserable past few