Yes. Sabrina reached behind her neck and unfastened a clasp, pulling a chain from beneath her shirt.
Alex reached out his hand, and she laid it in his palm. It was warm from lying against her skin, and he found it unexpectedly arousing. He closed his hand around it and stood up, moving back to Cons chair behind the desk. It would be better if he were not so close to her. Besides, it gave him a little more time to hold the locket and focus his full concentration on it.
The longer he held an object, the more likely he was to feel something from it. Only very strong remnants of emotions or events leaped out to him immediatelywhich, fortunately, made it a good deal easier to live normally. The best way to use his skill was to hold the thing tightly and close his eyes, blocking out all other sensations, and home in on the target.
But that would look far too strange to do in front of a stranger. Especially in front of a beautiful girl whom he did not want to think he was insane. Fortunately, the sensation from the locket was strong. It was warm and loving and feminine. He had never noticed before that he had been particularly able to pick out a sense of gender, and he wondered for an instant how far his ability could go. He had never wanted to try.
The strongest thing he felt from the locket was the same sense of her that emanated from Sabrina. And love; the locket had been given and received with love. Unfortunately, none of that helped him to identify her.
Sitting down, he laid the necklace on the desk and studied it. It was quite small and in the shape of a heart, on a delicate golden chain. Inserting his thumbnail into an almost invisible crack, he sprang it open. On one side was written a date and on the other the name Sabrina, as she had told him.
He looked back up at her. Do you think this is your birthday? She would be twenty-one soon if sofour years younger than himself. It seemed the right age for her.
She shrugged helplessly. I wish I knew. Then Id know two things about memy age and my first name.
We also know that its a nice little piece of jewelry, not extravagant, but Id wager expensive enough. And given the way you speak and your manner, I would venture to say that youve been raised as a gentlewoman.
Sabrina grinned. I fear that doesnt narrow it down much.
No. Somewhat reluctantly, Alex handed the locket back to her.
Maybe something else would help. She began to dig in her pockets and pull out various items and set them on the desk: a pocket watch on a chain, a leather pouch that clinked when she set it down, a card, a dainty feminine handkerchief, a torn scrap of paper and, finally, a gold ring.
Alex felt as if his heart had flipped in his chest. A wedding ring? He reached out for the ring. Youre married?
I dont know. She frowned. I dont think so. I dont feel as if Im married. It was in my pocket. I wasnt wearing it.
He picked up the ring, set with a cluster of diamonds in the shape of a flower. Perhaps you merely took it off to suit your disguise. He could sense some sort of strong emotion from the ring, but it was muddled, and the whisper of her presence was faint, not permeating it like the locket shed worn. It could have come just from her carrying it in her pocket. Adding to the confusion was the sense of someone else. It wasnt necessarily hers.
Maybe. She was looking at the thing with a certain disfavor, which Alex found made his chest feel lighter.
He set the ring aside and picked up the handkerchief. It was clearly expensive and feminine. In one corner was an embroidered monogram of a large B mingled with an S and an A. This S would support your name being Sabrina. A last name beginning with a B.
Sabrina nodded. Yes. But Ive tried and tried to think of a name beginning with a B that might seem familiar, but none of them do. This is the bag of money. She opened the pouch to show him the contents.
Alex raised his eyebrows. Youre right. That is a good deal of money to be carrying about, especially for a young lady.
It seems suspicious, doesnt it? A woman dressed as a man, traveling alone, no baggage, carrying a lot of money. I think I must be running away. She raised troubled eyes to him. But from what?
Do you feel that youre running away or is it just the evidence?
Yes. She paused. I dont know. Im frightened. Coming over here, I felt that I must get here as fast as I could. But maybe thats because I dont remember anything about my life. Thats rather terrifying, all on its own, and of course Id want to find out who I am as quickly as I could.
There are your bruises. Something happened to you. He was immediately sorry hed mentioned it, for the fear in her eyes increased. Hastily, he added, Of course it could have been that you were in a carriage accident.
He didnt believe that for a second. A carriage accident would have involved others, at least a driver. They wouldnt have let her just wander off, dazed and bruised. Nor did it explain the amount of money she carried or the fact that she had dressed up as a man. It seemed far more likely that someone had hurt her...and could right now be pursuing her. Thank heavens she had come here and wasnt out wandering around, lost and alone.
He turned his mind away from that picture and reached for the piece of paper. It was torn across the top, and the rest of it was filled with elegant copperplate handwriting:
...do say youll come. We shall have the most wonderful time. I am already planning a shopping expedition. My aunt has been so kind as to agree to accompany us.
This was followed by a detailed description of a hat that the writer had recently purchased, and it ended, as it had begun, in the midst of a sentence.
Clearly its a letter, Sabrina said. But thats all there is of it. Ive read it over and over, and I cannot glean anything from it. Theres no salutation, no signature. She doesnt even say her aunts name. I suppose its from a friend or a relative, but why wouldnt I have brought more of it? And why is the page torn in two?
Again, the letter held a trace of Sabrina, but he also sensed another person, perhaps more. It could have been handled by several people, for all they knew. What Alex could sense, quite distinctly, bothered him. As soon as hed touched the paper, hed felt a brush of anger, even rage...which would fit with the paper being ripped in half.
He turned to the pocket watch. There was no inscription inside or on the back. It was clearly a mans; both the style and the feeling that emanated from it told him that. There was also a whiff of emotionsorrow? He wasnt sure. But with it, far more than with the ring, Sabrinas presence clung to it. He thought perhaps she had carried it for a long time.
A picture of a house flashed through his mind and was gone. Alex froze, his fingers closing around the watch. But across from him, Sabrina said, What? Did you find something on the watch?
What? Oh, no. He smiled and shook his head, setting the watch back on the desk. Later, perhaps, when Sabrina was not there to see it, he could hold it longer, concentrate on it harder. There had been something there, he was certain.
I dont think this will be any help, Sabrina said as she handed him the last item, a card. A boy in the train station handed it to me. I think it must be some sort of advertisement, though Im not sure for what. A milliners, perhaps?