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“It’s very close to the opening statement Mephistopheles made.” I pointed to the one line that was practically identical. “‘You might lose your life, your very soul, to this magical traveling show.’ Who else would be privy to that speech, if not a carnival worker?”
Uncle twisted his mustache, focus turned inward. “Perhaps someone who’s attended the carnival before. This isn’t the first time the Moonlight Carnival is performing.”
“True,” I said, unconvinced. “It still doesn’t explain why they’d wish to frame the circus. Thus far there are no witnesses that we know of, no motive as to why Miss Prescott was targeted, and no decent reason to orchestrate such a tangled web to commit one murder. Why not simply wait until the lights are out, strike, then slip back to wherever they emerged from?”
Thomas paced the deck, his movements quick and precise, much like I imagined his thoughts to be. He stopped abruptly and moved to the railing, staring out at the endless sea. Uncle and I glanced at each other, but didn’t dare interrupt him while he traveled into that dark, twisted part of himself. A few moments later, he half turned, shoulders stiff.
“The murderer is likely someone who enjoys the spectacle. He isn’t interested in quietly committing his dark deeds—he wants drama, the thrill of seeing people recoil. I…” The wind blew a section of hair across his brow. He turned to us, expression hard. “Next time the victim will be revealed in a grander fashion, one that cannot simply be thought of as a performance. Wherever he is right now, he’s seething. Enraged that more people weren’t afraid of his opening act. When he strikes again, every passenger aboard this ship will be imprisoned by their fear. I guarantee he means to turn this cruise into a fantastical nightmare.”
After a prolonged pause, Uncle motioned for us to be on our way. “Be on guard at all times, both of you. The last thing we need is any more trouble for this family.”
While dressing for the evening show, I replayed Thomas’s dire proclamation in my mind. By the time the attendant finished pinning the last rosebud in my hair, my stomach was completely knotted. If Thomas was correct, and I had no doubt he was, then another person was about to die.
Uncle had warned us to be on guard, so I’d taken his advice rather literally. In my silk off-the-shoulder gown, dyed a dark purplish black, I felt as if I were a figure that could easily blend into the shadows and observe the dining saloon if needed.
I removed my mother’s heart-shaped locket from the jewelry box and handed it to the attendant, immediately comforted as its weight settled on my breastbone.
Once the attendant left, I carefully perched on the edge of a chair, mulling over facts. According to Mrs. Prescott, both Chief Magistrate Prescott and Dr. Arden received invitations to experience the Moonlight Carnival, all expenses anonymously paid. They knew each other outside of the Etruria, but I needed to investigate their relationship further. Which might prove difficult, as Dr. Arden had the welcoming personality of a slug. He’d taken to staying in Mr. Prescott’s chamber and refused to speak with anyone for at least another day or two.
Letting that lead go for the time being, I focused on what I already knew. Miss Prescott was slain as soon as the lights went out, a coincidence, perhaps, but I didn’t believe so. Someone who knew precisely when it would be dark in the dining saloon had waited to strike. Another indication that whoever committed the heinous act was somehow involved with the carnival. Or someone who might have observed any rehearsals. I made a mental notation to speak with the captain again. He’d have names of crew members on duty.
Then there was the matter of the Ace of Clubs; its connection was still unclear. Although that might be the point. Maybe the card was nothing more than a distraction. Though cartomancy was another avenue that might prove beneficial…
Someone knocked on the connecting-room door, tugging me from my thoughts. I stood, smoothing down the front of my gown. “Yes?”
I expected Mrs. Harvey, fetching me for supper. Instead Thomas waltzed in as if being alone with me in my bedchamber was not utterly scandalous. I scanned him from head to toe in his dress suit; surely looking so handsome had to be a criminal offense.
“Where’s Mrs. Harvey?” I both hoped and dreaded that she would join us.
Thomas slowed his pace, inspecting me as if to gauge my emotions. Whatever he saw in my expression made his lips twitch. “In the dining saloon with your uncle, waiting for us.”
“How did you manage—”
Words failed as he strode over and gathered me into his arms. His eyes, while slightly filled with mirth, were dark and deep enough for me to drown in. Our last stolen kiss felt like it had happened ages ago, and every nerve in my body tingled with anticipation.
God save me, I wanted him.
One of his hands slowly trailed down my back, and my breath hitched, igniting something in his gaze that practically undid me. Never one to disappoint, he bent his face to mine, a smile curving those wonderful lips as he tilted my chin up.
“Have I swept you off your feet yet, Wadsworth?”
Without replying, my mouth was on his. I hadn’t yet pulled my gloves on, so my bare fingertips roamed over his skin, and he replied in kind. Each stroke consumed my senses until all I could think of was where his hands might explore next, and the expanding hope that his lips might follow their careful path. His love was pure yet intoxicating, sweet and powerful. I’d never tire of this—of touching him and being touched by him.
As if he knew exactly how he made me feel, he slid his hands over my shoulders and up into my hair, moving until our bodies pressed together. I could have sworn there was an electric current running over every place we made contact. He whispered my name while dropping kisses down my throat and along my bare collarbone, stopping right where my locket lay. A need greater than propriety overcame me. Heart pounding, I tugged his suit jacket off and maneuvered us toward my bed.
Thomas gently laid me down, his body hovering above mine. It might not be medically possible, but I swore if he didn’t touch me again soon, I’d combust. He ran a thumb over my bottom lip, gaze thoughtful. “I love when you look at me that way.”
I searched his eyes. “How?”
“Like you might possibly love me in the same extraordinary way that I love you.”
Any tether of self-control I’d clutched at slipped from my grasp. I drew him down until his weight settled on me, marveling at how incredible it felt to share a bed with him. I traced the strong lines of his jaw, getting lost in the golden flecks of his eyes before slowly bringing my mouth to his again. When his tongue touched mine, I nearly lost my senses.
Kissing him was my favorite indulgence, and he certainly enjoyed spoiling me.
“Perhaps you’re right. We ought to get married on the boat,” I said, breathing heavily. I might be ready to do more than kiss him, especially if he kept tracing those idle circles on my bodice. With a knowing grin, he kissed me once more, then resumed his attention to my neck. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of my throat as his hand slipped down to my hip. Saints help me. “Do you think there’s a priest? Father couldn’t possibly be that mad if we eloped. Uncle might agree to be our witness… or Mrs. Harvey.”
Thomas pulled back enough to look into my eyes, his wicked grin returning. “Miss Audrey Rose Wadsworth, conqueror of my soul—you are an absolute fiend. You’d like to flout tradition simply because of your need for my body.” He held a hand over his heart. “I swear I have never loved you more.”
