When We Touch by Heather Graham Page B

well, I think that I’ve come to a situation I don’t care to handle myself.”
    Jamie frowned. He had done everything in his power to keep his distance from Maggie while still seeing to her welfare and safety. He had to admit that his own behavior had been abominable, and that her outrage and loathing for him were certainly justified.
    He wished that the damnable wedding would come about! Once he had stood up for his uncle, he could leave, and he was very anxious to leave London. It didn’t matter much to him if he was sent to the Continent, Asia, or the Americas—as long as he could leave London.
    â€œAh, Darby, is she planning nocturnal trips now into the dark world?”
    â€œActually, sir, that’s the gist of it. There’s to be a séance tonight, hosted by a new, self-proclaimed messiah, if you’d believe all you were to read about the man!”
    â€œAlexander. Adrian Alexander. I saw his notice in the newspaper.”
    â€œYes, yes, he’s the one. Seems a number of people have been seeing him in the short time he’s been in the country. The dowager Duchess of Chesney swore to the Observer that he’d brought back her dear beloved Duke.”
    â€œMarian is a sweetheart, but a bit daft, I’m afraid,” Jamie said.
    â€œAh, sir, I’ve seen the dowager Duchess,” Darby agreed. “Well, of course you know that I am quite accustomed to looking after Sir Charles—in your absence, of course, and—”
    â€œDarby, we both know that your skill at observation goes unequaled,” Jamie said, hiding a smile.
    â€œYes, well, all for my lord Charles. And sir, I must tell you, servants do talk.”
    â€œThank God. We’d never get good gossip did they not!”
    â€œThen you’ll understand that through some careful observation—and listening at the right times, and in the right places—I’ve learned that the Lady Maggie intends to be among the true believers sitting at the table.”
    â€œSurely, she cannot intend to go to debunk the man! There was an article with her name in it from the occasion when she attended her last séance, and found the strings beneath the table,” he said impatiently.
    His own opinion on the new “sciences” that had seemed to flourish so since the mid century in London—phrenology, mesmerism, and spiritualism—was that they were often silly, and usually harmless. There were those who sincerely believed in their causes; he tended to be a man who wanted more proof. But Maggie’s determination to prove people as frauds might well turn dangerous. Some people were charlatans, and after the money. Generous amounts of money at that, for weeping widows were prone to pay heavily to speak with departed husbands. Grieving parents longed for a final word from a lost child. Why, it was rumored that even the Queen had been to a séance, which was not surprising, because she had remained so deeply in mourning for Albert, years and years after his death. Of course, Charles had told him that the entire country had come to mourn Albert. They had not been so impressed with the Prince Consort when the Queen had first chosen him for her husband, but his devotion to the arts, sciences, industry, and humanity had, in the end, endeared him to his adopted country. Sadly, he had died before the extent of his contributions had been fully realized.
    It had only been last year, on the occasion of the jubilee celebration for the fiftieth year of her reign, that Queen Victoria herself had even begun to emerge from decades of deep mourning.
    Charles had told him that it had been true, that indeed, Victoria had delved into spiritualism, anything to speak to her dear Albert.
    Other men and women of intelligence and renown played with such pseudosciences. Physicians of stature were practicing phrenology, the judging of a man’s—or woman’s—tendency to crime, deviant behavior,