I puzzled it out for a moment. “Are you asking me to be one of your performers?”
“Only for one night. Though you’ll need to practice with the others every night to catch up.”
“Wonderful.” I rubbed my temples. “You’re forcing me to learn from the criminals you’ve hired.”
“Entertainers,” he corrected.
And possibly at least one murderer. “Well, they weren’t very welcoming when I attended their practice this morning. I’m not sure they’ll assist me with this bargain of yours.”
He stepped forward, that dangerous smile back in place. “Which is why I’m giving you lessons in front of them. Let them see how much I favor you… then they’ll do their best at gaining your attention.”
“But they’ll believe there’s something more inappropriate happening between us.” Another realization clicked in as he nodded. “You’re betting on it, actually.”
“Indeed, my star pupil is already learning.” He beamed. “So now you understand why that… Mr. Cresswell, was it? He’s not to be made aware of our bargain. We need this to appear authentic. Let them think I’m truly wooing you and winning your hand. They’ll be much more likely to bring you into the fold. And I need everything to go smoothly at the finale, especially after the murders. Investors get fickle about attaching their names and money to that sort of thing.”
Thomas trusted me completely; however, I couldn’t imagine him not being a little uncomfortable with this arrangement, especially after our earlier conversation. I hesitated. “Thomas is good with keeping secrets. Plus, you might want him participating in the finale, too. He’s very gifted—”
“His reaction to our alleged tryst needs to be unscripted, Miss Wadsworth. Should he fail in his performance, others will know there’s nothing between us. They will never speak to you or want to know you, should they catch even a whiff of dishonesty. I need them all on board with working to ensure the success of this carnival. Nothing will stand in my way, especially not some sensitive lover. I’ve worked too hard and sacrificed much in this endeavor. I will not fail now.”
I stepped toward the railing, allowing the cold breeze to clear my head. Thomas might not be happy, but the ruse would only last four days. In that time I’d be able to protect Liza from Houdini’s lies, learn sleight of hand as I’d wished and apply it to my forensics, and be granted access to the secretive carnival group. The very one that might be harboring a murderer. While it had its detriments, our bargain also had its beneficial points. I needed access to the performers to solve this case, and given their aloofness toward me, this was an opportunity I could ill afford to decline.
Mephistopheles moved to where I stood, his arm nearly brushing mine as he leaned over the railing and watched the moonlight bounce across the sea. This was a business transaction, nothing more. Any warnings of losing my head or heart blew away on the next ocean gust.
“Fine.” I stuck my hand out, pleased when he returned the gesture and shook. “You and I will play our game of pretend, but I require proof for Liza about Houdini. I think the news ought to come from me. When and where I choose.”
He glanced down at our hands, almost appearing surprised at finding them still clasped and abruptly let go. “Any other demands?”
“You are not permitted to kiss me. No matter what. That is a part I do not wish to play.”
“Interesting.” His lips twitched upward. “Very well. So long as you never wish for me to do so, you have my word.”
I kept my focus on his eyes, refusing to glance lower, lest he get any sordid ideas. “Good. We’re all settled, then.” I wrapped my cloak around me and peered down the empty deck. “I’ll meet you after breakfast for—what is it? Why are you shaking your head?”
“We have four days left before the grand finale, Miss Wadsworth.” He held his arm out. “Your first lesson begins tonight.”
When Mephistopheles waltzed into the practice room, a swagger in his stride and a crooked curve upon his lips, chatter slowed, then promptly died down. Knife throwers paused in their target practice; trapeze artists sat upon their swings; all attention turned to their ringmaster. And me. Most truthfully, their gazes were locked upon my hand on his arm. The one I moved ever so slightly upward at his whispered insistence. I had not forgotten what Liza had said about him never showing up to these practices. It was another deliberate move on his part, one containing the most impact.
“See?” He leaned closer, the heat of his breath on my neck. “Look at the way they’re sizing you up, wondering how you earned my favor and how they might wrest it away from you. You, my dear, are now a threat. And a prize.” As if just noticing the quietness of the room, he tore his gaze from mine. I wondered at how authentic he made it appear when I knew it was only another act. “If you’d like a shot at performing this week, I suggest you keep practicing.”
Everyone began running through their routines, well, everyone except for Cassie, the trapeze artist; the Empress. She sat high above us, watching from behind her mask as Mephistopheles guided me to a table and pulled a chair out for me. Once I’d arranged my skirts, he dragged another chair around until our legs almost touched. I batted my lashes, but dropped my voice. “Watch yourself, sir. I’d hate to kick you by accident.”
“You asked me not to kiss you, Miss Wadsworth,” he said, the smile growing larger, “you never mentioned touching in your stipulation. Better luck next time. Now, then. Let’s run through the basics.” He pulled a deck of cards from his suit and placed them in my palm, his hands lingering. “First, you’ll need to hold your cards properly in order to cut them one-handed.”
He adjusted them until they fit lengthwise in my palm.
“This is how dealers hold their cards. For our purposes, you’ll start like this and shift them up toward your fingertips.” He moved the cards from my palm to my fingertips, keeping them in the same position. With clinical efficiency, he drew my pinkie down to the bottom of the deck, securing it comfortably in my grip. “Good. This allows you enough space to cut the deck between your fingers and palm, plus you now have better command over it.”
I shifted the deck around, trying to get a better feel for it. “How do I cut the deck with only one hand? It feels like I might drop a few cards if I move.”
“Ah, excellent observation.” Mephistopheles gently tapped my index finger and then my pinkie. “These two fingers will be what actually hold the cards in place. It takes some getting used to, but once you practice enough, you’ll find that your thumb is free to flip the cards, and your ring and middle digits assist with cutting the deck in half and rotating them. Here, allow me.”
Forgetting about the eyes I still felt boring into us, I leaned in. He pressed the top half of the deck with his thumb, allowing it to drop open in the middle, as if it were a yawning mouth. Next, his index finger came off the top as the bottom portion slid into a ninety-degree angle, forming an L shape with the cards. Both his middle and ring fingers loosed the upper deck as his index finger pushed the lower half forward, completing the shuffle. My eyes crossed.
“The mechanics of it are quite complicated,” I said, watching as he repeated the steps much faster. “You make it appear so easy.”
“Once you get the movements down, it’s simple body memory.” He handed me the playing cards. “You won’t even have to think of what you’re doing, it’ll come naturally.”
It wasn’t dissimilar to some of my forensic practices becoming body memory. I set my attention on the cards in my hand and slowly, painfully, went through the motions. I’d gotten to the part where I cut the deck in two, permitting myself a whoop of accomplishment, when the cards dropped out of my grasp and littered the table and floor. I cursed, one of my more colorful offerings, and the ringmaster threw his head back and laughed.