She jotted down the words Fierce features.

From where he sat Adam Grove could not possibly see across the ornately carved back of the rococo-style desktop to discern what she had written but she sensed that he was observing her. She paused and looked up with a bright smile.

And immediately froze when she saw that impatience and cold intelligence had made dark green mirrors of his eyes.

Very carefully and again without looking down she scrawled the words Eyes like emeralds. Glow in dark?

"More notes to yourself, Mrs. Fordyce?" The slight twist of his mouth lacked all traces of politesse.

"Yes. My apologies." Hastily she put down the pen.

Now that he was sitting in stronger light, she could see the lines of a grim weariness that bracketed his mouth and etched the corners of his eyes. The day was still quite young. What could account for that subtle air of exhaustion?

"Would you care for a cup of tea?" she asked gently.

He looked somewhat surprised by the offer. "No, thank you. I do not intend to stay long"

"I see. Perhaps you should tell me precisely why you are here, sir."

"Very well." He paused, ensuring that he had her full attention. "I believe you were acquainted with a woman named Elizabeth Delmont?"

For an instant her mind went blank. Then the name registered.

"The medium in Hamsey Street?" she asked.

"Yes."

She sat back in her chair. Of all the subjects he might have raised, this was the last one she would have expected. Although it seemed that the entire country was caught up in a tremendous fascination with séances, mediums and the study of psychical powers, she simply could not imagine a gentleman of Adam Grove's temperament taking a serious interest in such matters.