Read The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie for Free Online Page A

then went still.
    Violette rose, and another match flared to life in her hand. “Well . . .”
    Her words were drowned out by thunderous applause. Ellingham got to his feet, face glowing, gloved hands clapping hard. “My word, Mademoiselle, you have a wonderful gift. I’ve always said so.”
    “They didn’t hurt you, did they, Mademoiselle?” another man with a little more compassion asked. “Are you well?”
    “I will be.” Violette took out a handkerchief and delicately dabbed at her forehead. Oh, she was a master. “I have some protection from them. But I fear, gentlemen, that I feel a bit faint.”
    The gentlemen climbed to their feet, suddenly solicitous, assuring her they’d leave her to rest, that they were grateful to her. And when could they come back and bring their friends who needed to see, to believe?
    Daniel watched Violette as she handled them all, on her feet, but holding the table as though barely able to stand. She encouraged them to make return visits, but with an appointment, so they might be better able to reach the spirits. Violette apologized for her weak talent—her mother’s was much better. Worth it to wait until her mother was well.
    The gentlemen fell all over themselves agreeing with her, only Mortimer silent.
    Daniel also heard the lads speculating on what had happened to Mackenzie. One said he’d seen Daniel run out of the room, no doubt in a fright when the spirits had started up in earnest. Ah well, everyone knew the Scots were yellow.
    Mortimer was the last out of the dining room. He paused at the door. “A fine show, Mademoiselle,” he said. “You are to be commended.”
    Violette inclined her head, managing to look haughty and meek at the same time. “I thank you, sir.”
    “Hmm.” Mortimer kept his hand on the door frame. “Well, I’ll be back, Mademoiselle, in the daylight. To speak to you.”
    “I look forward to the meeting,” Violette said.
    She didn’t. She’d rather eat a toad. But she only wrapped a light shawl about herself as she spoke, her exhaustion not feigned.
    Mortimer gazed at her another long moment before he made a bow and said good night. Daniel heard him join the others at the front door, the door close behind them, and their voices on the street. None of them mentioned Simon, so Simon might have ducked away out of sight, or perhaps he’d gone home to nurse his wounds.
    Daniel lingered, fascinated by the pulley system. There were more levers he hadn’t tried. One sent a deep bell tolling—a person could imagine the specter of Death himself following such a noise. Another . . .
    A pair of feet in white leather boots stopped in front of his face. The laces of the boots covered a fine pair of ankles. Better still, from his position, Daniel could glimpse the legs that rose from the boots, gossamer black stockings fitting tightly over shapely calves.
    He rolled over onto his back and put his hands behind his head. From this angle, he looked all the way up her straight skirt to the tight bodice that swelled over her bosom. “As grand a setup as I’ve ever seen,” he said. “The pulley system, I mean. What engineer strung this for you? Whoever it was, I want to meet him.”
    Mademoiselle Bastien’s schooled face remained carefully blank. “I did it,” she said.
    “Did you, now?” Daniel’s eyes widened in amazement and he brought his ungloved hands together in a burst of clapping. “Brilliant. I think I’m in love with you.”

Chapter 4

    Arrogant, impudent . . .
Violet and her mother were about to be ruined by this scion of aristocracy, and he was
laughing
at her.
    Mr. Mackenzie returned his hands behind his head and lay full-length on Violet’s floor, relaxed and confident. What did he intend to do? Expose her? Alert the newspapers? The police? Violet’s heart beat hard. She needed to wake up her mother, to pack what they could, to
leave
.
    But Mr. Mackenzie remained unmoving, eyes glittering in the lamplight, his handsome