Page 104 of Her Scandalous Pursuit

Desmond scrunched into the corner, stretching out his legs as far as he could, and regarded his former teacher balefully. “How could you do this?”

“Dear boy, I’m so sorry. I hated to resort to such extremes, but I knew you wouldn’t agree. You disapprove of our taking back the Eye, and—”

“Taking it back? You mean stealing it.”

Gordon sighed. “I feared you would see it that way.”

“What other way is there?”

“Advancing science. Removing an obstruction so we can expand our knowledge of the universe. This is far more important than the possession of property. I do hope you’ll realize that. The Eye belongs with us.”

“This is a pointless argument,” Desmond said in disgust. “Why is it necessary to kidnap me? You already have the Eye.”

“Yes. But, dear boy, we must have you to use it.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

THISBE’S FIRST HEARTBREAKING thought was that everything these past few days had been a sham. It had a brutally practical logic to it: Desmond wanted the Eye and used her to help him find it after Gordon stole it. Once he’d achieved his goal, he had cast her aside. He never loved her. That magical night in his room meant nothing to him.

But...no. She didn’t believe any of that. Whatever sense it made, she knew in her heart that it wasn’t true. That night with him had been magical. Desmond was as dazzled, as awed, as she. What she saw in his eyes, felt in his touch, tasted in his kiss, was real. She trusted Desmond. She knew Desmond. He was a good, honest man, a loyal man. He wouldn’t have run away.

If Desmond had gone to find Gordon without her, he had a good reason. He believed he was shielding her from harm. Or, if Thisbe’s visions of Anne Ballew were true, the Eye was working on him—stealing his will and mind, as Anne put it, and making him act in a way he wouldn’t normally.

There was another possibility, which was the one that worried her: Gordon and Wallace had taken Desmond against his will. Perhaps they knew that Desmond was Anne Ballew’s descendant. If they’d tracked down the Eye to her grandmother’s possession, what was to say they hadn’t traced Anne Ballew’s heirs to the present, as well? Now that they’d learned that only the alchemist’s relatives could use the Eye, they wanted Desmond to operate the instrument for them.

Maybe Gordon hadn’t taken off for Wallace’s home as soon as he returned to London, but instead had stayed to kidnap Desmond. He wouldn’t be able to do that himself, but he could have used that thug Grieves again.

They wouldn’t harm him. Surely they wouldn’t harm him if they needed him to use the Eye. Thisbe tried to hold on to the idea, but she was too realistic not to realize that if Desmond would not help them, they would coerce him. She didn’t like to think of what awful thing that might involve.

And if he gave in to their coercion, it could be even more disastrous for him. Anne Ballew had warned it would destroy her “child.” Perhaps the reason there had been no sign that Desmond was affected by the Eye was because he hadn’t actually touched it. If he held it, if he looked through it, it might overcome him and leave him an empty shell. Or turn him into a horrid person. Or subject him to hatred and death, as it had done to Anne herself. Everything Thisbe could think of was equally catastrophic.

This was the reason Anne had invaded Thisbe’s dreams. Perhaps Thisbe’s visions were nonsense, but Thisbe understood now how Desmond felt about her grandmother’s prediction—any chance, no matter how small, that Desmond would be destroyed by the Eye was too much to risk.

She had to save Desmond. She had to keep him from using the Eye.

The problem was doing it. The train didn’t depart for several hours. She was tempted to take the carriage to Preston, but the truth was that in the end the train would be faster. But she must do something in the meantime; she could not bear to sit about and wait.

She decided to take another tour of Desmond’s haunts. It was, after all, possible that she had missed him. Worse, he and Gordon could be somewhere in the city instead of Wallace’s. If she rushed off to the north of England, she could be doing exactly the wrong thing. She needed to look for any clue that might tell her where they were before she committed herself to action.

Thisbe went again to Desmond’s flat. This time she walked through the small room, looking into each drawer and cabinet. A fabric traveling bag stood in one corner, and she found some of his clothes in it. He’d clearly started packing for their departure, but hadn’t taken it when he left. There were no trousers or shirt folded neatly on the chair by his bed, as there had been the other night, and no suit jacket hung on the back.

His coat hung from the hook by the door, his hat beside it. Desmond was prone to mislaying his hat or gloves, but he was less likely to leave behind a coat. He had, of course, done so that day she met him, but he’d been very pressed for time then. What would have made him run out so hastily this morning? His only appointment was with her. Everything pointed toward the probability that he had not left voluntarily. Unfortunately, nothing hinted at where he’d gone.

Thisbe sat down on the side of his bed. She felt better there, almost as if Desmond were with her. She picked up his pillow and held it close. It smelled like him, which comforted her even as it made her heart ache.

This was getting her nowhere. She must move on. Thisbe set down the pillow and stood up. It was then that she saw the small dark spot on the wall. She leaned closer. It was the color of dried blood. Her heart began to pound.

Thisbe fought for calm. She must keep her head or she would be of no use at all. The spot was little, and it was the only one. Thisbe examined all around the bed and could see no other sign of blood. That spot could have been there for a long time, for all she knew. The other night when she was here, it had been dark, and she didn’t spend her time studying the wall.

There was no reason to panic. She must move on in a logical manner. There was no need to try again at the optical shop. If Desmond had gone there, the owner would have told him she had come by looking for him. The laboratory seemed the most likely place for Gordon to take Desmond to test the Eye. Its locked state this morning now seemed suspicious.

She found the place still locked and dark. Thisbe wished she could see inside, but the only window was too grimy to see anything through it. She wished she knew how to pick a lock. Perhaps there was some way she could break it. Her mind went to Reed’s protégé. Tom Quick could get the door open in a trice.

“Thisbe.”

Thisbe whipped around at the sound of her name. “Carson.”

“May I be of any assistance?” Carson trotted down the stairs.