Confusion swept over Cameron immediately after Miss Haywood grabbed his arm. Her wide-eyed gaze wasn't on him directly but off in the distance somewhere behind him. His pulse jumped as he found himself trapped in her hazy blue eyes. What was she looking at? Was she as crazed as some of the inspectors from Metropolitan Police had suggested?

After he'd taken Alice home last evening, he returned to the station to speak with some of the officers about why she was there. Inspector Johnson raved about the amazing talents of Miss Haywood, while a few others remained skeptical. One man believed her talents must be the work of the devil. As it turned out, more officers thought her to be a step away from insanity. Later that evening, when cousin Tristan and his wife had come for dinner, Cameron told them about Miss Haywood and her unbelievable gift. Tristan's wife, Diana, had mentioned hearing amazing things about the woman, and Tristan admitted to hearing nothing but negativity.

Who could Cameron believe?

Caring for a father who had lost his mind and his soul to melancholy, Cameron didn't want to be burdened with that responsibility again. Alice shouldn't have to suffer the consequences, either. He needed to discover if Miss Haywood was in her right mind or not.

Suddenly, her face drained of color, and she jumped back as though burned. She blinked as if in a daze, but a moment later, her gaze flew up to his, fully cognizant. She rubbed her fingers as though they were sore.

"Are you quite well, Miss Haywood?"

"I-I believe so, yes."

Shaking her head, she slowly sank back into the sofa's cushions. Her attention was on the floor, which he thought was odd. Gradually, the color seeped back into her face. She took in a deep breath before releasing it. He moved to stand by the hearth once more, her nearness unnerving him.

Footfalls thundered in the main hall announcing Alice mere seconds before she rushed into the room. In her hands, she held Rosie's hairbrush. Taking quick breaths, she handed it to Miss Haywood.

"I hope this works." Alice's smile quivered.

"As do I," their visitor whispered.

Miss Haywood hesitated in taking the object as her gaze roamed toward Cameron. The way she looked at him was most disturbing, as though she could read his thoughts. Confusion creased her forehead, and she frowned as she grasped the hairbrush.

When Miss Haywood closed her eyes, a hush fell over the room. Cameron found himself breathing slower as he watched the woman carefully to see what she would do next. Some of the other officers told him about the strange things she did during her visions—eyes fluttering, or sudden weakness, or becoming disoriented. He was anxious to see if she did them now. And, what would Alice think of Miss Haywood after she witnessed those behaviors?

As the seconds turned into minutes—several of them, in fact—Miss Haywood did nothing. Her eyes twitched underneath closed lids, and her mouth tightened a few times, but that was all. At times she breathed deeper, but then she'd even stopped doing that.

Her shoulders drooped, and she released a heavy breath. When she opened her eyes and looked at Alice, Miss Haywood frowned.

"I fear this object isn't working," she said in a tight voice as she handed it back to the sister. "I can't see anything."

"Do you want me to fetch another object from her room?" Alice asked.

"Yes. I'm sure something from her room will open up my visions."

"Instead of doing that," Cameron cut in before Alice could leave again, "why don't we all go upstairs to Rosie's room? That way, Alice won't have to keep traveling back and forth until Miss Haywood finds the right...object."

The woman's expression changed yet again. This expression reminded him of how she'd looked when they sparred back and forth with angry words yesterday at the station. Her nostrils flared as she rose to her feet.

Her brilliant blue eyes were glued to his as she slowly walked toward him. "Mr. Westland, tell me now because I need to know before I attempt to find your sister. Do you or do you not believe what I can accomplish?"

He really shouldn't lie. Obviously, she had already detected distrust within him. "I have my reservations about your abilities."

She stopped right in front of him. "In other words, you need some kind of proof of what I can do?"

He shrugged. "Well, yes. However, I still don't think—"

"Mr. Westland, when I touched your arm a few moments ago, I had a vision. It wasn't of Rosie but a man. I couldn't tell his age, but he had shoulder-length, coal-black hair. He wore gentleman's clothes, and yet he was in a small room that held only a cot, a worn blanket, and a candle with a flame that was nearly gone. The man was unconscious, perhaps even dead, lying in a pool of blood. On his cheek was a deep slash mark." She took a deep breath. "So, does that sound familiar to you at all, Mr. Westland? I know this is connected to you in some way because I saw it while touching you."

As Cameron pictured what she had described, recognition hit him and nearly knocked his breath right out of him. How did she know... He shook his head.

No, that was impossible!

Only he, the jailer, and two other men knew about the room in the cellar of Metropolitan Police. Those rooms were only used to keep prisoners until their hanging—or in this case until Cameron could force the man to talk and tell him where Rosie was.

He hadn't been truthful with Miss Haywood. Cameron had mentioned he'd talked to the man who wanted to court Rosie, but Cameron didn't mention that he arrested Mr. Bailey and put him inside the dank room within the cellar. And during the process of bringing Mr. Bailey to the station, Cameron had cut the man's cheek during a scuffle. However, it hadn't been a deep cut.

His throat turned dry, and he swallowed hard. "I think I know about the vision you saw, but there is no way you—or anyone else—would possibly know about that room or who was in it."

She lifted an eyebrow. "No? Well, I assure you, I saw it."

"Besides," he quickly added, "the man who is being held prisoner inside that room is alive, so I don't know why you thought you saw a pool of blood around his head."

"Is the man still in the room?" Miss Haywood asked.

"Yes."

"Then I suggest you go see to him now, because I promise, he's not well at all. He's most likely dead."

Cameron growled under his breath as doubts nagged at the back of his conscience. He should check Miss Haywood's claim out. After all, she'd been right about Judge Gruber's grandson.

This woman already tried his patience. He didn't care what Alice thought of Miss Haywood. There was no way he would allow her to help their family any longer.

"Miss Haywood, I appreciate you trying to help. However, you have had your one chance, and since you didn't have any visions about Rosie, I would like you gone from this house by the time I return."

"But Cam—"

He held a palm up to Alice, stopping her from saying any more. "I have made up my mind." He looked at Miss Haywood and nodded. "I'm sorry you couldn't help us, but we don't need your assistance any longer. I wish you the best of luck with your future."

Before the woman or his sister could say another word, he marched out of the room. He would drop in on the prisoner because then he could tell Miss Haywood—when he saw her again, of course—how wrong she was. Needless to say, he couldn't wait to return to do that very thing.

* * * *

Madison's nerves quaked as though she'd been running a race—in her head. She was psychically spent. Exhaustion had taken over her body. She was usually drained for a few minutes after seeing a vision but trying to convince the hardheaded Cameron Westland to believe her caused strain beyond exhaustion.

Of course, this time was different. She had thought they were finally coming to equal ground. However, his attitude changed so fast it made her dizzy. Her heart clenched with an unknown sorrow that she hadn't expected.

Silence filled the air as his heavy boot steps echoed down the hall before the door slammed shut. Over the years, people had been rude to her because they hadn't understood her gift. And yet, what Cameron said hurt her feelings more than she was prepared for.

"Oh, Miss Haywood," Alice whispered brokenly. "I'm so very sorry about my brother. He's a very stubborn man."

Madison shook her head. "Don't apologize for him. But he had promised me one chance, and so he's right in asking me to leave. I shall go now—"

"No!" Alice grasped Madison's elbow. "Please don't. Cam will be gone for a few hours. Can you not stay for at least two more hours?"

"But your brother said—" Madison pointed toward the hall.

"I know what he said, and I assure you, he won't return for another two hours at least."

Confusion filled Madison as she weighed the options before her. She truly wanted to keep trying because if she did happen to touch something that gave her a vision of Rosie, Madison could tell Mr. Westland, and he'd have to eat his own words. That, in itself, would be worth staying to watch.

However, making that man upset at her more than he already was, didn't sound like an enjoyable afternoon. Slowly, her heart hardened against him, recalling how rude he'd been.

She inhaled deeply and released it slowly as she nodded. "I will stay a little while longer."

Relief softened Alice's face. "I'm so happy. Thank you."

Madison couldn't understand why her heart continued to twist in knots. She had actually allowed herself to soften around Mr. Westland. Why had she done that? Most men showed their true colors right away and treated her like a crazy woman. There, for a brief time, she started to believe he was different. He'd talked to her as though she was a real person instead of someone who'd lost their mind. She'd enjoyed the glances of interest as his gaze swept over her body, which caused tingles to rush through her. Thankfully, he'd proven her wrong before she could completely become enamored with the incredibly handsome man.

"Miss Haywood, you don't look well. Would you like some tea and cakes?"

Madison shook her head. "No, I'll be fine." She took a deep breath and released it slowly. She must get past this upset and do what she came here to do. She didn't have very long so she mustn't waste time. "Why don't we go to Rosie's room now?"

Alice nodded. "Yes, let us go."