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How did one politely reject a Sloane Ranger with a trust fund in the Bahamas? A vindictive one at that. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. There was a knock on the door and Lady Daphne became a flash of pale skin as she raced to her dress, picked it up and returned to the cupboard.
This was fast becoming a comical farce. I opened the door and Olivia was standing there in her coat.
She smiled. ‘Get your jacket on and come with me. I want to show you something.’
‘You make it sound dangerous,’ I said.
‘I’ll keep you safe,’ she said, with a smile.
‘Ah, but who will keep you safe?’
She blushed and I realized that I must have drunk far more than I thought. I was flirting with her! Every sober cell in my brain knew I shouldn’t go with her. It wasn’t prudent. But the alcohol was suddenly racing powerfully in my veins. I was surrounded by that horrid smell of her perfume that had actually started to grow on me and I fucking wanted to be with her.
Oh fuck it.
15
Marlow
I pulled my jacket from the sofa back and shrugging into the coat went out into the corridor to Olivia. A few steps down the corridor I turned to her.
‘Can you hang on here for just a sec? Got to sort something out. I’ll be real fast.’
‘All right,’ she said, looking up at me with soft eyes.
I turned around and went back into my room. There was no polite way to do this. I closed the door, strode to my wardrobe and yanked it open abruptly. Daphne was standing inside clutching her dress against her body. She blinked up at me in surprise. Exactly the reaction I had hoped to achieve—disorientate her conscious mind. I reached in and took her left wrist in my right hand.
‘Keep your arm soft,’ I instructed, fixing my eyes on hers.
Taken by surprise she obliged immediately. I raised my other hand higher than her eye level so her confused eyes would automatically have to follow, and travel upwards. Smoothly I moved my hand toward her face knowing it would cause her to instinctively sway back slightly, an action that should have also brought on a mild sensation of dizziness.
It happened quickly after that.
My hand reached her forehead and I began to stroke it, creating both bewilderment and a rush of feel-good serotonin into her brain. As her eyeballs began to invert, I firmly issued the order, ‘Sleep.’
Her head lolled back just as I curled one hand around the back of her neck while my other caught her limp body as it slid downwards. Carefully, I leaned her against the back of the cupboard.
When you see those TV evangelists dropping people in waves, this together with sleight of hand is the procedure they are employing. Called the rapid induction method it can be done with an arm pull, a handshake, or even by just following the hand movements of an expert stage hypnotist. The effects are impressive, but they don’t last long. They were, however, sufficient for my needs.
‘Can you hear me, Daphne?’ I asked.
She nodded slowly.
‘Good. You will remain standing solidly on your feet for one minute. Then you will wake up feeling sleepy, get dressed, and immediately go to your room where you will fall into a deep and restful sleep. You will not ever remember being here or conversing with me.’
I left the cupboard doors open and went out of the room to join Olivia in the corridor.
‘Ready?’ she whispered.
‘Yeah, ready.’ A thrill of excitement coursed through my veins. We were both castaway people on a midnight adventure.
Silently we journeyed through deserted corridors and down an uncarpeted, wooden staircase at the back, which, I assumed, must be the servants’ staircase. We passed bare walls and plain tiles, a stark difference to the opulence and luxury we had come from. Then we crossed a large kitchen, dark and still and very clean, and then we were out into the night air. A cold wind blew at us. We rounded the corner and we were at the side of a large Victorian conservatory.
She turned around to me, her eyes shining in the dark. ‘We could have gone in through the house, but I much prefer this entrance.’
She opened the door and we entered the most beautiful garden I had ever seen. I mean, I’m not into plants in any shape or form, but this one had to be seen. Milky moonlight was flooding in through the windows and turning the interior into a hauntingly beautiful garden.
In fact, I had the impression of a secret forest. There must have been hundreds of plants in there—they grew up the walls, hung from the ceilings and covered all available spaces that had not been designated as paths for walking on or a small patch where there was a small metal table and a canopied swing seat. Ferns tickled my legs.
