Gene of Isis

‘She’s left me everything and fled,’ Earnest summed up, mournfully.

‘I am sorry, Earnest. I told you from the start that she would be trouble. Still, at least your marriage wasn’t a total loss. You’re a landowner now and—’

‘You don’t understand! I have to go after her,’ Mr Devere insisted. ‘I cannot lose her. My life won’t be worth living.’

Then came a great thud.

‘Clearly, you’re not well enough to go anywhere.’ The strain in my husband’s voice seemed to indicate that his brother had collapsed and Lord Devere was struggling to aid him to his feet.

‘I just need some food,’ Mr Devere insisted. ‘Tell me, where is my sister-in-law this morning?’

‘My countess is in the next room, waiting for word about your condition,’ Lord Devere informed him.

I smiled. I liked being his countess.

‘How much does she know about my wife’s disappearance?’ Mr Devere lowered his voice and I barely heard the question.

‘No more than the rest of us, I should think,’ my husband replied honestly. ‘My wife has been in my company a good deal, as you know, and was just as surprised as the rest of us when our sister-in-law went missing and you slept on unaware for two days.’

‘Two days!’

I heard the rustle of paper once more, then footsteps coming toward the door.

‘Where are you going half dressed?’ my husband queried his brother.

I tiptoed backwards to quickly collapse into a chair and try to look composed.

I gasped when Mr Devere emerged from the bedroom naked to the waist, clutching a shirt in one hand and an envelope and letter in the other. Still, being a woman of the world myself now, I suppressed my shock and made nothing of his impropriety.

‘Earnest!’ my lord objected. ‘I really must insist that you dress yourself before addressing my wife.’

‘What is this?’ Mr Devere passed one page of the letter to me and dressed his upper body to appease his brother as I read it.

‘It reads like a sleeping spell, doesn’t it?’

‘Is it a spell?’ he demanded to know.

‘I do not believe in such things, Mr Devere. I would say it is just a coincidence.’ I gave my view calmly. ‘Perhaps if I could read Ashlee’s letter—’

‘No,’ he snapped and then regretted making his reluctance so obvious. ‘It is very personal.’

I suspected from what Ashlee had told me that it was not sentiment that prevented him from handing the letter over, but some information more incriminating. ‘Really?’ I became rather indignant, and I stood. ‘Well, if you have finished interrogating me, I have a couple of questions for you…for instance, why my dear friend should feel the need to pack up and flee this house in the middle of the night!’ I was furious to have lost my best friend this way and I wasn’t afraid to show it.

Mr Devere went very pale suddenly. ‘I know how circumstances appear, but I assure you that in no way have I abused my relationship with my wife.’

‘Then perhaps you could supply a more agreeable explanation.’ I handed him back the spell, recalling that Ashlee had also insisted that Earnest had not physically abused her.

Earnest’s gaze met my own suddenly. ‘You were the last to see her.’ There was no accusation in his voice. He knew the truth of it and I glanced down to notice how his fingertips caressed the page I’d just been holding.

It seems that intimate relations have a strengthening effect on my talents, Ashlee had said, when I’d spied her levitating luggage the night of her departure. What if intimate relations had sparked psychic talent in her husband as well?

I didn’t know how much my husband knew about Ashlee’s secret, but I felt fairly sure he would not be comfortable with the sensual nature of this supernatural subject matter.

‘Could I speak with you privately about my wife?’ Mr Devere requested, as if he’d read my mind and wished to spare me any trouble with his brother. ‘After all, you know her better than anyone.’

My husband looked at me, appearing concerned that he was to be left out of the conversation. ‘Were you the last one to see our sister?’ he asked.

I needed to clear the air with Mr Devere now, and so I confessed. ‘Ashlee made me promise not to say anything and allow her time to escape.’

My husband was clearly hurt that I’d kept the information from him. ‘Escape…from what?’ He wanted to know what was so unpleasant about his house and hospitality.

‘That is precisely what I wish to know.’ I looked back to Mr Devere.

He looked at Lord Devere, silently appealing to him to withdraw, although he said nothing.

‘I see.’ My lord accepted that his brother would not speak in his presence. ‘I’ll be downstairs, should anybody need me.’ Lord Devere closed the door on his way out.

‘Now, explain yourself.’ I looked at my brother-in-law as he collapsed into a chair. ‘My dearest friend has fled god knows where, and now I am at odds with my husband. I would like to know why.’

Mr Devere sat with his face in his hands for a moment, and as he looked up he tried to brush away his tears. ‘It is because I made a mistake…so grand and life-consuming that I cannot see how I shall ever correct it.’ The tears continued to flow in a constant stream down his cheek, but his voice was calm and unwavering. ‘I’ve never known