Dancing on the Wind

Chapter 18

Lucien had trouble falling asleep after he returned from the salon. When he did, his dreams were disturbing. He found himself trapped in a swirling, featureless fog that hid all landmarks. As he inched his way forward, knowing that he had a vital mission to perform, he suddenly saw his lovely, elusive Lady Nemesis just ahead of him, her slim body clothed only in mist. Her beauty caught at his heart.

She smiled and extended her hand. He stepped forward eagerly, but before they could touch, her expression changed to horror. She turned and fled. Ignoring the menacing shapes that surrounded them, he raced in pursuit, determined to claim her. She led him to a castle built of stones as dark as death. Sensing that it would be disastrous to enter, he called a warning, but she plunged recklessly through the black arch.

Grimly, he followed. He emerged into a bright chamber filled with mirrors, every one of them reflecting a different image of her. She was a frightened chambermaid, a worldly, provocative actress, a cool intellectual- every guise he had seen and many that he had not.

And through the hall echoed the desolate sounds of a woman weeping with anguish.

Desperate to help, he reached out to a sad-eyed image-Kristine? Kathryn?-and banged his hand into the cold, impervious surface of a mirror.

Behind him a husky voice whispered, "Help me, Lucien-in the name of God, please help me."

He whirled about, but could not tell which of the glittering reflections was real. Increasingly frantic, he searched through the hall until his lungs burned and his hands bled from smashing into an infinity of mirrors. But he could not find the warm, flesh-and-blood reality of the woman he sought-only mirrors and cruelly mocking images.

He awoke, shaking and possessed by a feeling of doom, though he wasn't sure if the doom was his or hers. Perhaps it was mutual. He forced himself to lie back on the pillows and relax, muscle by muscle.

As his breathing steadied, he had the wry thought that at least he wasn't experiencing the paralyzing emptiness he had known after the sordid encounter with Lola. With his Lady Nemesis, the problem was not too little emotion, but too much, most of it frustration.

Though Lucien was nine-tenths convinced that his quarry was Kristine Travers, a volatile actress with a very proper twin sister, he was too experienced to accept Kathryn's story without confirmation. His Great-aunt Josephine, the dowager Countess of Steed, might be able to tell him what he needed to know. She had a very long ear for gossip; it was a family trait.

Fortunately, his aunt was willing to receive him at an unfashionably early hour. Tiny and silver-haired, she sat by a fire, swaddled in shawls, when he was shown into her morning room. "Ring for tea, my boy," she ordered. "Then come here and give your old aunt a kiss."

After he had obeyed, she waved him into a chair opposite hers. "Have you come here to tell me that you are on the verge of matrimony?"

He laughed. "The answer is the same as always: no. I promise that if lever change my mind, you'll be one of the first to know, but for now, you'll have to content yourself with sprigs from other branches of the family tree."

Lady Steed nodded her head, unsurprised. "Then you're probably here to pry facts from my doddering old brain."

"Doddering-you? Your mind and memory are as sharp as a Florentine dagger."

She tried to scowl reprovingly, but couldn't conceal her smile. "What do you want to know this time?"

"You have friends in Westmoreland, don't you?"

"The Miltons, near Kendal. The dowager and I have been bosom bows for almost sixty years. I visit them for a fortnight every summer on my way to Scotland. The current viscount is my godson." She peered balefully over her gold-rimmed half-spectacles. "Lord Milton married at twenty-two and has three sons now. There's a man who knows his duty to his family."

Ignoring her gibe with the skill of long practice, he asked, "Did you ever meet a Lord Markland there?"

"Oh, yes, a charming man, though quite worthless. His estate was only a few miles from Milton Hall." She sniffed. "All he could manage to produce was a pair of twin daughters. After he died, the title went to an American cousin, so I expect it's effectively extinct. As I understand it, Americans don't hold with such things as titles."

Before she could digress into the virtues of the hereditary aristocracy, Lucien said, "Tell me about the twin daughters. Did you ever meet them?"

"Almost every time I visited the Miltons. They were a lovely pair of girls, Kristine and Kathryn, both with a K. The Traverses have always been known for having odd kicks in their gallops." She shook her head. "Markland neglected his daughters shamefully. Anne Milton was fond of the girls, so she did her best to teach them how to get on in society."

"The twins were identical?"

She nodded. "As like as two peas in a pod. I've never seen such a resemblance. For all the times I met them, I never could tell them apart. Very different temperaments, though. Lady Kristine was the older, and she was wild, like her father."

The tea tray arrived and the countess poured for them. "Kristine's exploits were notorious throughout the county. Swimming naked in the river at midnight, climbing cliffs, wearing breeches to ride with the local hunt, arguing logic with the vicar until the poor man didn't know whether he was coming or going. She should have been a boy."

That certainly explained where she had developed the skills for burglary and roof running. "What about Lady Kathryn?"

"She took after her mother, a vicar's daughter, and was a very proper young lady. She was always trailing along behind her sister, trying to keep her out of trouble. A sweet child, but easy to overlook-Kristine did all the talking for both of them." Lady Steed lifted the silver tongs and dropped a chunk of sugar into her cup. "People made allowances for the girls because of the way they had been brought up. There was no real vice in them, but Kristine was definitely headed for trouble. Probably eloped with the first man who asked her, or went on the stage, or did something equally disreputable."

Lucien's brows arched. "Do you really think she might have become an actress?"

She chuckled. "I doubt that even Kristine would be so lost to propriety as that, but she was very good at theatricals. She and Kathryn were always staging plays with the other young people in the neighborhood. They were a particular success in A Comedy of Errors and Twelfth Night."

Lucien smiled at the thought. "One seldom gets to see those plays done with genuine twins rather than false ones. Presumably Kristine was Sebastian to Kathryn's Viola?"

"Yes, and she made a very dashing fellow. One could hardly blame Olivia for losing her heart." The countess sipped her tea pensively. "Wherever Kristine is now, I'm sure she's up to some kind of mischief. That girl needed a strong man in her life." After a moment's reflection she added, "And her bed."

Lucien grinned. "Don't think you can shock me with your bawdiness, Aunt Josie-I'm already inured. Do you know where the twins are now?"

"They left Westmoreland after their father died and the estate was sold. It must have been about five years ago. They went to London to live with their aunt." Lady Steed pursed her lips. "Markland left them quite penniless. No amount of charm could compensate for such shocking irresponsibility."

"Do either of them have Jane as a middle name?"

"As a matter of fact, they both do. Kathryn Jane Anne and Kristine Jane Alice, I believe. Apparently Markland had asked his sister to be godmother to his first child, and he saw no reason to change merely because his wife presented him with twins." She shrugged. "Or perhaps the parents thought the girls should have identical initials along with everything else."

He remembered "Cassie James" swearing that Jane really was her name. So that time, at least, she wasn't lying. The little witch had a devious mind. Of course, he already knew that.

As he was ruminating, Lady Steed said, "An interesting phenomenon, twins. As infants they often develop their own secret language from baby talk." Seeing Lu-cien's expression, her gaze dropped. "Of course you know that already. At any rate, the Travers girls had private nicknames for each other. I noticed once when they were chattering together."

"Do you know what the names were?"

"I believe they were Kit and Kara." The countess bit her lip. "No, that's not right. Kira, that was it. Kit and Kira."

Lucien's interest quickened. "Which was which? The sounds are similar enough so that the proper names and nicknames could be combined either way."

"Kit is usually short for Kathryn." His aunt's brow furrowed. "That can't be right-Kit was doing most of the talking, so she would have been Kristine."

"Kit is nickname for Kristine as well," Lucien said. The first time he had met her, at Rafe's hunting party, she had identified herself as Kitty. It must have been the automatic response of a girl who thought of herself as Kit In fact, her exact answer had been "Kit… Kitty," as if she was belatedly changing a telltale slip to a stutter. "So Kathryn is Kira."

With the issue of names settled, he moved to a more important question. "Did either of the girls have suitors?"

"Not serious ones. Everyone in Westmoreland knew they didn't have a penny to their names, so they weren't really eligible. Oh, plenty of young men flirted with Kristine and the minx flirted right back. And once Anne Milton said there was a widower who thought Kathryn would make a suitable stepmother for his five children, but I never heard of anything significant."

He grinned at her affectionately. "If you didn't hear, it didn't exist. I never cease be be amazed at how much you know."

She cocked her head to one side like a sparrow. "I've answered all of your questions, but I don't suppose you would answer mine if I asked what you were up to this time."

"Suffice it to say that I wondered whether I was dealing with one woman or two." He rose to his feet. "Thank you for verifying that the Travers are twins. I'm in your debt."

"You can discharge it by telling them to call on me if they're in London," she said promptly. "Separately or together. I would enjoy renewing the acquaintance."

"I'll do that," he promised as he took his leave. Issuing his aunt's invitation would give him an excuse to call on Kathryn. She might not want to see him again, but she was still his best lead to finding Kristine.

Wanting to stretch his legs, he dismissed his carriage and started to walk home. He was acting very strangely about Kristine-Kit. He turned the name over in his mind, thinking it a good fit. A name with sharp edges, like hers. He hoped to God he wouldn't have to learn any new names for her; he was confused enough already.

Even though he was finally making progress, he felt a deep sense of disquiet, and he didn't know why. He suspected that it wouldn't go away until he caught up with Kit once and for all.