Diana burrowed in her bag for money and came up short. To get enough to pay for a ticket all the way to Hartford, she had to dip into the emergency billfold secured by her garter. As she paid the conductor, she tried not to think of how very little money she had left. If Damon Bathory changed trains in Stamford or New Haven, she would not be able to afford to pursue him.
"You hadn't planned to make this trip," Jerusha observed.
"No," Diana agreed as the red-faced conductor moved on.
A few rapid calculations sent her spirits plummeting. She'd need to send a telegram to Horatio Foxe at the first stop to ask for more funds and for authorization to send news dispatches over the wires leased from Western Union by the Associated Press.
"Cash in the ticket before we leave the station," Jerusha urged her. "There's no point in coming with us. Even if you pursue Lavinia all the way to the next stand, she won't accept your apology."
"That's not why I'm here."
Diana pictured Damon Bathory in her mind, trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing. Confusion threatened to overwhelm her. What was it about the man? The previous day, completely under his spell, she'd lost all perspective. That was the answer, she supposed. He was a sorcerer. And what else? This time, she meant to find out. She'd not allow herself to be charmed by him again!
Jerusha tugged at her sleeve. "What are you up to, Diana Spaulding?"
A low whistle sounded as the train shuddered into motion.
"There _is_ someone I followed onto the train," Diana confided as they left the station, "but not Lavinia."
It was too late to change her mind. The train plunged into a tunnel that would keep them underground until they emerged, far to the north, at 125th Street.
"Who?" Jerusha's hoarse voice broke on the question. She was about to lose it again.
"Someone I don't want to see me. By blending in with all of you, I can pass unnoticed." Why would anyone look at a plain brown wren when the eye was drawn to brightly colored parrots?
"Who?" Jerusha repeated, this time in a whisper.
"A man. I was to meet him later today for an interview. Instead, I discovered him here, boarding this train. I mean to find out where he's bound." He was not going to Buffalo. That much was certain. This train was headed in the wrong direction.
She'd been a gullible fool last evening, letting herself believe everything he said. Take her to the circus? Hah! No doubt he'd only pretended to enjoy her company, letting her think he was beginning to care for her as a woman in order to lull her into forgetting to be cautious. She'd been as completely taken in as one of those addlepated young ladies who'd flocked to his readings.
If she hadn't seen him today, by accident, she'd have had a long wait in that hotel lobby. Had he even left her a note? Somehow, she doubted it. He'd lied to her, cast out seductive lures, all so he could sneak out of town like a thief in the night.
Jerusha reached out to touch the colorful bruise on Diana's jaw. The light coating of face powder she'd used to cover it had been washed away by the storm. "Did he do this to you?"
"No."
She started to say he was not that kind of man, then fell silent. Any man was capable of physical violence when angry and she'd seen flashes of temper from Damon Bathory. He'd frightened her more than once.
He'd also touched her with a tenderness that had made her ache.
Once he'd admitted to knowing she was following him, she should have realized that the rest of his story would not survive close scrutiny. Why, he'd had plenty of time to come up with all sorts of nefarious schemes to get rid of her! He might even have hired that thug who attacked her.
"He's hurt you in other ways," Jerusha said. "You care for him and he doesn't return your feelings."
When Diana tried to deny it, Jerusha just looked smug.
"I can tell by the look on your face. You never were any good at hiding your emotions."
The
"You hadn't planned to make this trip," Jerusha observed.
"No," Diana agreed as the red-faced conductor moved on.
A few rapid calculations sent her spirits plummeting. She'd need to send a telegram to Horatio Foxe at the first stop to ask for more funds and for authorization to send news dispatches over the wires leased from Western Union by the Associated Press.
"Cash in the ticket before we leave the station," Jerusha urged her. "There's no point in coming with us. Even if you pursue Lavinia all the way to the next stand, she won't accept your apology."
"That's not why I'm here."
Diana pictured Damon Bathory in her mind, trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing. Confusion threatened to overwhelm her. What was it about the man? The previous day, completely under his spell, she'd lost all perspective. That was the answer, she supposed. He was a sorcerer. And what else? This time, she meant to find out. She'd not allow herself to be charmed by him again!
Jerusha tugged at her sleeve. "What are you up to, Diana Spaulding?"
A low whistle sounded as the train shuddered into motion.
"There _is_ someone I followed onto the train," Diana confided as they left the station, "but not Lavinia."
It was too late to change her mind. The train plunged into a tunnel that would keep them underground until they emerged, far to the north, at 125th Street.
"Who?" Jerusha's hoarse voice broke on the question. She was about to lose it again.
"Someone I don't want to see me. By blending in with all of you, I can pass unnoticed." Why would anyone look at a plain brown wren when the eye was drawn to brightly colored parrots?
"Who?" Jerusha repeated, this time in a whisper.
"A man. I was to meet him later today for an interview. Instead, I discovered him here, boarding this train. I mean to find out where he's bound." He was not going to Buffalo. That much was certain. This train was headed in the wrong direction.
She'd been a gullible fool last evening, letting herself believe everything he said. Take her to the circus? Hah! No doubt he'd only pretended to enjoy her company, letting her think he was beginning to care for her as a woman in order to lull her into forgetting to be cautious. She'd been as completely taken in as one of those addlepated young ladies who'd flocked to his readings.
If she hadn't seen him today, by accident, she'd have had a long wait in that hotel lobby. Had he even left her a note? Somehow, she doubted it. He'd lied to her, cast out seductive lures, all so he could sneak out of town like a thief in the night.
Jerusha reached out to touch the colorful bruise on Diana's jaw. The light coating of face powder she'd used to cover it had been washed away by the storm. "Did he do this to you?"
"No."
She started to say he was not that kind of man, then fell silent. Any man was capable of physical violence when angry and she'd seen flashes of temper from Damon Bathory. He'd frightened her more than once.
He'd also touched her with a tenderness that had made her ache.
Once he'd admitted to knowing she was following him, she should have realized that the rest of his story would not survive close scrutiny. Why, he'd had plenty of time to come up with all sorts of nefarious schemes to get rid of her! He might even have hired that thug who attacked her.
"He's hurt you in other ways," Jerusha said. "You care for him and he doesn't return your feelings."
When Diana tried to deny it, Jerusha just looked smug.
"I can tell by the look on your face. You never were any good at hiding your emotions."
The
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