The Third Circle by Amanda Quick

Author:Amanda Quick
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Romance Suspense
ISBN: 0399154841
Publisher: Jove
Published: 2008-04-22T00:00:00+00:00

22

LEONA KNOCKED TENTATIVELY on the bedroomdoor.

“Is that you, Miss Hewitt?” Victoria called out in her brusque, no-nonsense tones. “You may enter.”

Reluctantly, Leona opened the door. She was not looking forward to this meeting. The summons had been issued after Thaddeus had left the house for what he had described as a short meeting with Caleb Jones. Leona had gone into the garden with Fog and her mother’s journal. She was sitting on a bench reading when Mary, the young maid-of-all-work, appeared.

“Lady Milden sent me to tell you that she wants to see you, ma’am.” Mary kept a wary eye on Fog, who was sniffing some foliage at the base of the garden wall. “In her bedroom, she says.”

It had been little short of a royal command.

Leona stood in the doorway and looked at Victoria, who was seated at a dainty little writing desk.

“You wished to speak with me?” Leona said politely.

“Yes. Stop dithering about out there in the hall. Come in and close the door.”

Feeling rather like one of the servants, Leona obeyed.

“I wish to speak with you on a personal matter,” Victoria announced.

Enough was enough, Leona thought. It had not been her idea, after all, to become a guest in this household.

“If this is about my association with Mr. Ware,” she said coolly, “I have no intention of discussing it with you.”

Victoria grimaced. “I have nothing to say on that subject. It is quite obvious that the two of you were meant to be lovers. This is another matter, entirely.”

“I see,” Leona said, utterly bewildered.

“I understand that you are something of an expert on dreams and insomnia.”

Leona thought about the light that had burned so late under Victoria’s door last night.

“I have a certain talent for dealing with the negative energy that can keep one from a restful slumber,” she allowed cautiously.

“Very well, I wish to engage your services.”

Leona swallowed. “Well—”

“Immediately.”

“Uh—”

“Is there a problem, Miss Hewitt?”

“Uh, no, no, there’s no problem,” Leona said quickly. “It is just that I was under the impression that you do not approve of me.”

“That is neither here nor there. For now, you may consider me a client.”

Leona contemplated the situation from every possible angle and saw no escape, at least none that did not involve waving a flag of cowardice. “You must control your audience. Never allow your audience to control you.”

“Very well,” she said in her most professional tone. “What seems to be the problem?”

Victoria rose. Her posture was as rigid as ever, but the morning sun revealed the map of lines and creases on her face. When she moved to stand at the window, Leona sensed an aura of weariness about her.

“I have not had a good night’s rest since my husband died, Miss Hewitt. Whenever I turn down the lamps I lie awake, sometimes for hours. When I do sleep I am troubled by dark dreams.” She gripped a handful of curtains very tightly in one hand. “Sometimes I wake up in tears. Sometimes—”

“Yes?”

“Sometimes I think that I would rather not wake up at all,” Victoria whispered.

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