Passion and Scandal by Candace Schuler Read Free Book Online Page B

Markova said as she poured a small amount of strong black tea into each of three small glasses fitted into silver filigree holders. "She is said to have lived here in the 1920s when the Wilshire Arms was still a magnificent private residence but how the poor lady died remains a mystery." She added hot water to each glass from the ornate brass samovar sitting on the small lace-draped table beside her chair, handing them to her guests as each one was filled.
    Steve accepted his a little awkwardly, holding the whole thing, saucer and all, cradled in his palm. He looked distinctly uncomfortable sitting on Madame Markova's shawl-draped, red velvet settee, surrounded by lace-covered tables and delicate china bric-a-brac. Willow watched him from under her lashes, smiling when he lifted the tea glass by the rim to drink because his finger wouldn't fit through the delicate silver handle. He glanced up over the edge of the glass as he sipped, catching Willow grinning at him, and gave her a dirty look.
    "According to the legend, the circumstances of her death were deeply tragic," Irina said, unaware of—or ignoring—the byplay between her guests. "She is said to haunt the mirror in apartment 1-G, revealing herself only infrequently, and then only to someone whose life is about to change in some significant way. Her appearance foretells the attainment of your greatest dream or predicts the occasion when your greatest fear will come to pass." Irina Markova slanted a glance across her teacup at Steve. "I see by your expression you do not believe it."
    "No offense to you, Madame, but it sounds like a load of bull... ah, manure to me."
    "And if I told you that I, myself, have seen the lady? It was on the very night Errol Flynn and I became lovers."
    "And was that the attainment of your greatest dream or the occasion of your deepest fear?" he asked, deadpan.
    Irina Markova let out a peal of delighted laughter and shook her head at him. "A lady does not kiss and tell," she admonished him.
    * * *
    "These girls, they did not live here long, I think," Irina said as she looked at the pictures Willow had handed to her after the tea and tiny almond cakes had been set aside. "A month." She shrugged. "Maybe two. But this one, yes." She tapped her finger against Donna Ryan's smiling face. "I remember her very well. A great beauty. Superb bones. I was a makeup artist for many, many years with Xanadu Studios," she told them proudly, "so I know how important good bones are for true beauty. All of the young men in the building pursued her from the day she and the other girl moved into Wilshire Arms." Madame glanced up, her sharp green eyes narrowing as she stared into Willow's face. "You have a bit of her look around the eyes, although the angle is not so sharp."
    "She was my mother."
    Irina Markova nodded, as if that explained something she'd been wondering about.
    "Do you happen to remember whether she dated anyone in particular while she lived here?" Willow asked. "Anyone in these pictures?"
    "Ah, back then, who could tell?" Irina shrugged and rolled her eyes. "There was all that ridiculous talk of free love and sexual liberation. I saw her with all these young men at one time or another, but to say she was the special sweetheart of any one of them...? I could not even begin to guess."
    "What about the guys in the pictures?" Steve urged. "Do you remember anything about any of them?"
    "Oh, my heavens, yes," Irina said. "I remember these young men very well. Very well, indeed. This one with the dashing mustache is Ethan." She sighed and pressed her lips together. "He was not my favorite of the boys."
    "Oh?" Steve said encouragingly.
    "Too arrogant and full of himself. A failing of many young men, I'm afraid." She looked up, giving Steve a teasing smile. "But perhaps he grew out of it."
    He smiled in silent acknowledgment of her gentle gibe. "And the others?"
    "These two, here, they were brothers," she said, pointing them out as she spoke. "This one is