City,” he said with great authority, tapping his chest with a forefinger, “is known to me alone.” Ellen could hardly hide her skepticism, but she said nothing. Padjan continued, his dark eyes aglow, “In that secret place are Magic Waters from which a person can drink and stay forever young.” He paused, as if waiting for her to speak.
Not knowing how to respond, she said, the cynicism evident in her tone, “That I would like to see.”
“And you can,” said Padjan. “I will take you there if you so desire.” He smiled at Ellen then, his teeth very white in an incredibly smooth, youthful-looking face. “Drink of the waters,” he told her, “and the passing of time stops.”
At that, Ellen said resolutely, “I’ve no desire to make time stand still.” She glanced nervously at Mister Corey who was quietly watching her, arms folded, lifeless dark eyes fixed on her. “Nor is there any part of my youth I would wish to reclaim,” she continued, returning her attention to Padjan. “As I told you, my aunt sent me here. She’s the one who wants to live forever, not me.” Ellen abruptly rose to her feet. She looked from Padjan to Mister Corey and said, “My aunt has instructed me to bid you to visit her this evening. Can you do that? Both of you?”
“We can and we will,” said the smiling Padjan, rising to face her.
“Very good,” she said, turning away, then pausing and turning back. “Be at the Connaught Hotel at eight this evening.” She looked at Mister Corey. “The Connaught is in Mayfair by the—”
“I know where the Connaught is,” he said, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
“Oh. Well, good. I just supposed that…”
“…someone like me had never been in the better part of London?” he finished for her.
“No, I…That isn’t what I meant.”
“That’s exactly what you meant,” he coolly accused and she flushed hotly because it was true.
Eager to get away from him, Ellen tensed when Mister Corey followed her to the door. He reached around her to open it. For a split second she stood directly before him, trapped between his tall, lean frame and the closed door. Instantly plagued with a bad case of the jitters, Ellen was terrified she would start trembling and that he would notice her nervousness.
Her anxious eyes fixed on the hand gripping the brass doorknob, she felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of her lungs.
Mister Corey languidly opened the door.
Ellen bolted into the dimly lit hallway and, without looking back, rushed down the stairs as if fleeing the devil himself.
Mister Corey stood in the open doorway looking after her, mildly amused by her obvious aversion to him. A slight smile briefly touched his lips.
But it never reached his eyes.
Alexandra Landseer, wearing her finest, was ready and eager to receive her invited guests. Her steel-gray hair had been dressed elaborately atop her head and she wore an expensive creation of silver-gray silk that would have been stunning on a younger, slimmer woman. Her wrinkled face had been liberally dusted with powder and her cheeks sported twin spots of rouge. Sparkling jewels graced the crepey folds of her neck and dangled from her fleshy earlobes.
On joining her aunt in the suite’s drawing room, Ellen had commented that it might not be wise to wear so many valuables for this particular occasion.
“After all, Aunt Alexandra,” Ellen reminded her, “I told you when I returned this morning that this Mister Corey is nothing more than a common carnival barker. I saw the man last night hawking his magic potion at a street fair.”
The gussied-up old woman made a sour face. “You had no intention of telling me about stopping at the fair, did you?”
“But I did tell you,” Ellen defended herself.
Alexandra replied, “Not last night you didn’t.”
“Last night. This morning. What difference does it make?”
Alexandra toyed with a priceless rope of pearls-and-diamonds dangling from her throat and pursed her lips. “Tell the truth, if you hadn’t recognized Mister Corey this morning, you would never have told me about going to the fair last night.”
Ellen crossed her arms over her chest. “And shame on me. I hadn’t realized that doing something as daring as going to a street fair on my own should be immediately reported.”
“Don’t you get smart with me, Ellen,” Alexandra warned, pointing a finger at her niece as the younger woman turned and left the room.
Alexandra ignored her niece’s surprising show of audacity. The heiress was in too good a humor to be bothered by Ellen’s reaction. Alexandra was as excited as a child waiting for Santa on Christmas morning. She was zealously looking forward to this evening’s meeting. It was to be, perhaps, the most important meeting of her entire life.
“Ellen,” Alexandra shouted loudly, “our visitors should be here soon. Where are you?”
Ellen, attired modestly in a simple white piqué dress she’d worn for several summers, returned to the drawing room.
“Right here,” she said, managing a smile.
While Ellen dreaded seeing the intimidating Mister Corey again, she wanted to be present for this little conference so she would know exactly what ensued. Alexandra, who successfully dealt daily with titans of rail, steel and telegraphy, seemed to lack all common sense when it came to the issue of staying young.
Ellen was afraid that the two scheming strangers would easily convince Alexandra that they held the secret to eternal youth. And, therefore persuade her aunt to pay an astronomical sum of money to take her to their so-called Magic Waters.
“They’re here!” Alexandra announced excitedly at the knock on the door. She waved a bejeweled hand at Ellen, “Go let them in, please. No, wait just a minute.”
Alexandra always insisted on staying seated when greeting guests. She preferred to play the role of a monarch on a throne, expecting her lowly subjects to come forward to bow and beam and fawn over her.
“Ready?” Ellen asked, barely concealing her annoyance as Alexandra fussed with the shimmering silk skirts that swirled around her feet.
“Yes, you may admit them,” said the queenly Alexandra and Ellen went into the foyer to open the door.
The smiling Padjan entered the marble-floored vestibule. In his arms was a large green paper bag that he held as gingerly as if he were carrying a piece of fragile crystal. He was followed by Mister Corey who was clean shaven and surprisingly immaculate in a white linen shirt and neatly pressed dark trousers. Ellen felt her stomach contract.
“Good evening, Padjan, Mister Corey,” Ellen calmly acknowledged. “Won’t you come inside and meet my aunt?”
Padjan, the crown of his bald head gleaming in the light of the wall sconce, nodded eagerly. But first, he turned and carefully placed the bag on the table beside the door. Then he and Mister Corey followed Ellen into the suite’s large drawing room.
“Aunt Alexandra, this is Padjan,” Ellen indicated the smaller man. “Padjan, may I present my aunt, Miss Alexandra Landseer.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Padjan stepped forward, bowed from the waist and, taking the hand Alexandra offered, said with sincere enthusiasm, “It is a true pleasure to meet such a great lady, Miss Landseer.”
Charmed, she said, “Forget the formalities, call me Alexandra.”
Nodding, Padjan released her hand and moved aside.
“And this,” said Ellen, glancing up at him, “is Mister Corey. Mister Corey, my aunt, Alexandra Landseer.”
Mister Corey was not impolite, but he did not grin or bow to the seated heiress or take her outstretched hand as Padjan had done. “Miss Landseer,”