"Wait." Jack held up his hand. He shook his head, his brow deeply furrowed. "Tell us what happened up there, Violet. What happened within you, I mean."
"I'll not tell you a thing," I snapped. "If you and your mad uncle wish to learn anything about me, you'll have to dissect my cadaver in his laboratory. I'm sure it'll give you much pleasure."
"Violet, stop," he whispered, kneeling in front of me beside his cousin. "It's not what you think."
"Isn't it? You heard him as clearly as I did. I'm a prisoner, and you and your cousin are aiding him. You are a liar, a kidnapper and much more besides."
"What?" Sylvia straightened. "That's ridiculous. We have an agreement. You're to stay until Christmas, but then you're free to go. You're certainly not a prisoner."
"Wait, Syl." Jack laid a hand on her arm, but he continued to stare at me. "You got angry, Violet. Remember? You were furious with August and me, perhaps more than you've ever been in your life. You felt tired, and usually you would fall asleep, but not this time. This time you stayed awake, so you know what happened next. You know, Violet. Remember?"
His melodic voice soothed me somewhat and tears welled in my eyes. How could he have lied to me? After his kindness, his affection. "I believed you," I whispered as tears spilled down my cheeks. "I trusted you." Sylvia reached for me and I pushed her away. "Both of you."
"How could you?" Sylvia wailed at Langley.
Her uncle sat stoically, unmoved.
"Tell me what happened next, Violet," Jack said, his voice urgent. "The sparks. Do you remember those?"
"This is absurd," I muttered. "Very well, if you want to relive it then I'll recount the events. You grew angry with your uncle because you didn't want him to tell me what was really going on—that I am a prisoner and you all know it. It seems you couldn't control your temper this time, Jack. Perhaps you're the one who needs training, not me." I sounded bitter, but I didn't care. My energy had leached from me, and I was too tired to play their game. It was the truth or nothing. They were mad and I truly was their prisoner.
But not forever. I would escape and warn Violet. They couldn't be allowed to win. There was only one way to beat them, and that was admit the truth, or part of it. I would not admit it all and put Vi in danger.
"No, Violet," Langley said, his thick brows plunging into a frown. "You're incorrect. It wasn't Jack. It was you."
"Impossible," I snapped.
"You'd better explain why," Jack said.
"I can't start fires, you see. I never could." There. I'd said it and I felt relieved beyond measure. They'd not want me now that they knew I was of no use to them. All I had to do was convince them that Vi couldn't do it either and they'd just let me go. Dear God.
Jack sat back on his haunches. "Yes," he said, reaching for me then pulling away. "You can. August, Bollard and I just witnessed it. Those sparks didn't come from me. They came from you. Don't you remember?"
My laughter came out harsh, but even as my head thought he was lying, my heart knew the reality. It drummed out a different tune in my chest. It was time I listened.
He was right. I was a fire starter.
CHAPTER 11
"Violet?" Jack's soft voice startled me out of my foggy stupor. "Violet? Are you telling us you didn't know?"
"How could she not know?" asked Sylvia.
How indeed.
Her face appeared in front of mine, her big eyes filled with concern. "Are you all right, Violet? You look very pale."
I gripped the chair arms until my fingers ached, but I didn't let go. If I did, I was sure I would tip over. My thoughts raced so fast I couldn't quite grasp them. All I knew was that if I could start fires, then everyone at Windamere had lied to me.
Including Vi.
"Violet?" Jack still knelt in front of me, so close I could feel the heat radiating from him. It made my skin hot, my blood hotter.
Or was that the heat within me? It all began to make sense. I'd never felt cold, never needed a coat to go outside and I hated wearing gloves. Where Vi had shivered through our wintry walks, I'd relished the cold breeze against my skin, the frost in the air.
"Do you need to lie down?" he asked me.
I shook my head. "I need...answers."
"Whatever we can provide, we will." He took a deep breath and scrubbed his hand over his jaw.
"Why did you lie to us?" Langley said. "You let us believe you could start fires even though you thought you couldn't."
"Don't," Jack warned. "Our questions can wait. Let Violet ask hers first."
Langley heaved a deep sigh. "Very well. I suppose you'd like to know what happened up there."
I nodded.
"Bollard told me what the Gladstone fellow told you."
"Bollard followed us!" Jack snapped. "Bloody hell, August. Why?"
"I originally sent him to London to make sure Violet didn't escape." He gave a jerky nod of apology. "I didn't quite trust her." At Jack's protest, he put up his hand and continued over the top of him. "He followed all three of you when you visited your friend. Bollard's deaf mother taught him to read lips, and he used the skill in order to keep his distance. He missed some of the conversations thanks to the poor light, but he caught most. As well as the meeting you had with your friend, he told me everything the Gladstone fellow told Violet."
"What did he tell her?" Sylvia clicked her tongue. "And why am I always the last to know?"
"Gladstone informed Violet that her narcolepsy could be cured by subjecting her to a profound dose of the emotion that triggers it."
"But we didn't know what that emotion was," Jack said.
"I suspected it was anger. I always did. That first time she unexpectedly fell asleep here and almost set my laboratory on fire, her temper was pronounced."
"The first time...?" I whispered. "There...there was a fire? Why didn't anyone tell me?" I remembered the fresh scorch marks on Langley's floor that hadn't been there upon my first visit...I'd thought Jack had put them there. That was me?
Jack and Langley looked askance. "We merely assumed you'd been aware of what happened that day," Jack said. "It never occurred to me to discuss the incident in detail. Wait a moment." He turned to Langley. "I see now. You lied to her about not being able to leave because you wanted her to get angry. You let her think Sylvia and I were in on the trickery."
"What do you mean?" Sylvia stamped a hand on her hip. "Once again I'm the last to know everything."
"I had no choice," Langley said to Jack, ignoring her. He shrugged, as if it were nothing. As if manipulating my emotions and making me believe Jack lied didn't matter, as long as he got the outcome he wanted.
The heat rose within me again, but not enough to produce sparks or flames. Unlike Jack. He looked like he wanted to set something alight. His breathing had become ragged, his nostrils flared. At least there were no sparks.
"What happened in your room, Uncle?" Sylvia asked.
Jack gave a low, bitter laugh. "Our dear Uncle August knew that anger would cure Violet of her narcolepsy and was also the trigger that would ignite the heat inside her. He decided to set up a little experiment."
"Not an experiment," Langley said. "An experiment is where you test a hypothesis within a controlled environment. I bypassed the experiment and went straight to administering the cure."
Sylvia gasped. "Good lord. Was that wise?"
"I think we all saw how unwise it was," Jack muttered.
"Now it makes sense," Sylvia said. "You deliberately made her angry with a lie about her being kept prisoner here. Uncle, how could you?"
"Enough! I did what was necessary to remove the narcolepsy and memory block. Now we can start her training anew."