Page 26 of Mesmerized

Olivia noted that the woman made it sound as if the estate still somehow belonged to her. She smiled politely and said, “Yes, very much. Lord St. Leger told me a bit about his life in the United States, as well, which was quite interesting.”

“Really?” Pamela arched one thin elegant brow as she looked at Stephen. “I am surprised you have never told us about it, Stephen.”

“I doubted you would find it interesting, my lady,” he replied in a cool, formal voice.

Pamela smiled at him. “I imagine you would be surprised what interests me. You must try me someday.”

Stephen said nothing, merely picked up his wineglass and took a sip. Pamela turned her attention back to Olivia. “We are very glad that you came to visit, my lady. We have heard so much about your family.”

There was a faint thread of amusement running through her voice that made it quite clear what she had heard about the Morelands.

“Indeed?” Olivia said mildly.

“Oh, yes,” Pamela continued, a cold light in her blue eyes. “The duchess is quite famous in society.”

“My mother is well-known for her many good causes, if that is what you mean,” Olivia said pleasantly, gazing back at Pamela with equally hard eyes.

“She is very...forward thinking, is she not?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Pamela...” Lady St. Leger said, casting an anxious glance at Olivia.

“What do you mean?” Belinda asked curiously.

Lady St. Leger looked as if she had swallowed a bug. Pamela’s smile was like cut glass.

“She means,” said Olivia coolly, “that my mother believes in such things as education for poor children and better treatment of workers in factories and women having the right to vote.”

“Really?” Belinda’s eyes widened. “But isn’t that a good thing? That poor children get educated and that people are treated well?”

“Yes, of course.” Olivia smiled and nodded. “My mother has a great deal of compassion, a trait that, I am afraid, is all too often missing in some women of the nobility.” She turned her eyes significantly back to Pamela.

Stephen let out a short bark of laughter. “Pamela, if you persist in trying to engage Lady Olivia in a battle of wits, you are bound to lose, you know.”

Fire flared in Pamela’s eyes, though she quickly hid it by lowering her eyes. “Why, Stephen, I am hurt that you should think I meant anything bad,” she said, and when she raised her cornflower-blue eyes again, they were swimming in tears. “I was merely interested in Lady Olivia’s family.”

“Of course,” Olivia said briskly. “I am quite proud of my mother, so I never mind talking about her.”

A small silence fell on the table after that. Olivia glanced at Lady St. Leger, who still looked a trifle uncomfortable. In an effort to assure Stephen’s mother that she had not been offended by Pamela’s remarks, Olivia said, “You have a lovely home, Lady St. Leger.”

The older woman brightened and smiled at her gratefully. “Thank you, my lady. I am glad you think so. The house has been here for many, many years, of course, but I did do some redecorating. There were some places that were a trifle chilly—both literally and figuratively.”

“I fear that is often so with stone houses,” Olivia commiserated.

“Is a sad house.” Madame Valenskaya spoke up suddenly, and everyone’s eyes turned toward her. “Full of lost souls. I know. I hear dem crying out to me. Soon as I arrifed, I knew.”

It was the first time Madame Valenskaya had spoken that evening, having been applying herself with some diligence to her food. But now she looked around the table at the rest of them, nodding her head for emphasis.

Olivia glanced at the others. Stephen’s face was carefully blank; he was not going to get pulled into the same sort of mistake he had made the night before. Pamela looked cynical and faintly amused. Belinda was leaning forward, her eyes wide, clearly enjoying the drama of the moment. Lady St. Leger, however, was clasping her hands together at her breast, her expression worried, obviously hanging on to Madame Valenskaya’s every word.

“I don’t know,” Olivia said calmly, keeping her face innocent. “It does not seem a sinister house to me at all. I find it quite spacious and lovely.”

“Oh, Madame always knows,” Mr. Babington said earnestly, putting down his fork and leaning forward to look at Olivia. “She is very attuned to the spirit world. Whenever we enter a house, she knows if there are lost souls within it. There have been one or two she could not even bear to enter.”

“Yes. Terrible places,” the medium agreed in her guttural voice. “Here is not bad. But I hear lost souls wailing.” She gave a dramatic shiver, adding, “Even de name oozes evil—Blackhope Hall.”

“It has been named that forever,” Pamela commented. “It comes from some ancient time. I am sure it meant something innocuous at the time.”