Page 52
He had been quite roused at the notion of Iris having any other suitor at all.
“You asked to speak to me privately,” Electra said. “Are your servants known to gossip?”
Had Mr. Seaton somehow learned of this first kiss Iris had shared with an unknown man?
“I do trust our staff, but gossip happens whether you wish it to or not. Even people with good intentions talk to someone they trust, and I have no wish for any of this to get back to my father.”
“Why?”
“He has such an idealistic view of Iris and me. He never demanded that we be perfect, but we always wanted to be for his sake. We never wanted to bring any shame to him or our family.” Violet gestured to the journal Electra still had settled on her lap. “This sounds like she did something she was ashamed of, and I know she wouldn’t want him to know, especially when she’s not here to explain.”
Violet eyed her worriedly. “What will you tell Inspector Pierce, and will he tell my father?”
“Inspector Pierce will need to know what I read in the journal, but I can see no necessity to tell your father unless it leads us to Iris.” Electra considered what the Delacourt staff might have heard or seen. “Would you ask the staff if there was anyone they admitted that you aren’t aware of?”
Violet, again, seemed surprised by the request. “I can do so, but they would have told us if that was the case. We quizzed them all the moment we realized Iris was missing.” Her gaze slipped down to the journal again. “I suppose there is a small chance Iris swore one of them to secrecy. But you have given me a charge, and I will fulfill it. Tomorrow, by day’s end, expect a note from me letting you know whether I discovered any new details.”
Violet pointed to her sister’s journal, and Electra lifted it to return it to her. Violet made no move to take it back.
“Did you…feel anything when you touched the journal?”
Electra shook her head. “No, I did not attempt to, but I would like to.”
“Please.”
Electra opened the journal to the final entry and then laid her hands against the words that Iris had seemingly written when emotions were high.
She closed her eyes and yet nothing came.
After a moment, she opened her eyes, glanced at Violet, and shook her head.
“I saw nothing.”
“Do you know why you failed to see anything this time?”
“I don’t. I wish I knew why my abilities work at times and not at others.”
Never before had the stakes of her gifts failing to give her insights seemed so high.
“What if I gave you my hand? Since we are twins, might you see Iris somehow?”
Electra suspected if she touched Violet, she would only see her own memories, and they would likely include her sister. “I am willing to try.”
Violet removed her gloves, and they arranged themselves on the bench so that they were facing, each perched on the edge, knee to knee.
“Does it matter which hand?”
“No.”
“Must I do anything?” Violet seemed suddenly nervous.
“It’s much like the first time we spoke. Refrain from speaking to me for a few moments, and I will see if anything comes.”
Electra took her hands, which were surprisingly cool against her skin. She could feel a little tremor run through Violet, across her skin and up Electra’s arm. She could sense her fear, her worry, the tension in her body.
The hairs on Electra’s nape tingled. Her body vibrated, then jolted, her muscles tensing.
A vision bloomed in her mind. Colors fading, then coalescing. She saw Dr. Tristan Wakefield, Violet’s fiancé. He was pacing a pale wallpapered room. The Delacourt sitting room, she realized. He stopped and looked at Violet.
