CHAPTER FOUR

Elizabeth did not like the effect Talbot was having on Lord Hayden. But neither did she wish to spoil Lord Hayden’s excitement at the prospect of discovering the Lost City of the Incas and the possibility of that city turning out to be Vilcabamba. In 1911, an American Explorer, Hiram Bingham, had rediscovered Machu Picchu in the Andes. Yet Bingham, himself, as many other archaeologists, including Lord Hayden, was never certain that what he had found was Vilcabamba, the last stronghold of the Incas. Hundreds of Incan ruins filigreed the Andean Cordillera in Peru, and accounts of ambitious antiquarians unveiling the remains of a city or stronghold among these ruins filled archaeological journals. Talbot and Lord Hayden were of the same mind with regard to Machu Picchu.

Thus far, Elizabeth had managed to keep her ill feelings about Talbot hooded, until that evening.

The three sat about a card table, tin cups filled with coffee. Behind them, a phonograph played Latin music. Without preamble, Talbot asked, "Lady Hayden, with your husband’s permission, may I have this dance?"

Elizabeth started, a cold shiver running up her spine. She glanced at Lord Hayden entreatingly. Say no, please say no.

"A dance might lift your spirits," Lord Hayden said. "Go on, Grace." Elizabeth forced herself to smile. To refuse would be rude. For Lord Hayden’s sake, she nodded. Talbot rose slowly and offered his hand. Elizabeth met his gaze, dark and sinister, and quite uncaringly aware of her reluctance. A rush of abhorrence of the man nearly choked her.

"Shall we?" Talbot took her hand. His fingers were hot and moist. He pulled her to her feet. "Your husband is a generous man. I would never allow you to dance with any other man—if you were mine."

The touch of that sweaty claw suddenly became unbearable. She jerked her hand free and snarled, "I’d rather be damned!" Before either of the two men could react, Elizabeth spun away furiously and ran into the tent she shared with Lord Hayden. She sat on the cot, simultaneously angry, scared and confused. She did not expect Lord Hayden to understand, when she, herself did not.

Lord Hayden remained seated, but for the first time since meeting up with Talbot, he felt a sense of misgiving. Talbot’s remark had chilled him. Not the words themselves, but the tone of delivery—cold and calculated, as though the man had accidentally let slip a false veneer of respectability. Was Talbot the cause of Grace’s despondency? After a few minutes to give her time to compose herself, Lord Hayden excused himself and strode into the tent. The woman he loved lay on her side on the cot, curled in a fetal position, hugging herself as if shivering. Her eyes were closed and her breathing steady. She had fallen asleep like a frightened child retreating into slumber to escape her fears. She seemed so small and helpless that he wanted very much to hold and comfort her. Nevertheless, waking her at this moment might serve only to bring back the fears. Instead, he took off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders, careful not to disturb her rest. In the morning would be time enough to discover what truly ailed her.

The next morning Lord Hayden requested that breakfast be brought to their tent. Over coffee he confronted her. "I want to know what’s wrong, what has been bothering you. You haven’t been yourself for days now."

"I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong."

He riveted her gaze with adamant disbelief. "Is it Talbot?" he asked bluntly.

Elizabeth pursed her lips in that defiant gesture that so intrigued him, but a moment later her shoulders sagged. "I don’t like him. He frightens me. Makes my skin crawl."

"Why?" Lord Hayden asked.

Elizabeth yearned to tell him that the face on the stele that had come to life in her nightmare was Talbot’s. But Lord Hayden would certainly think her daft and her fears unfounded. Again her lips pursed, but this time she did not relent. "I don’t know," she said. "I just don’t like him. Nothing to worry yourself about. Please don’t question me further. My feelings won’t interfere with our business association."

Lord Hayden’s posture tensed. Business association is that all their relationship meant to her. He chided himself. Had he forgotten how she had left him twice without a proper goodbye, and scoffed at his proposal, telling him to address his advances instead to Professor Elizabeth Eldridge. Hayden gritted his teeth. "Very well. I won’t pry. Tomorrow we should reach the outskirts of Peru. I’ve suggested to Talbot a few days rest at a quality hotel, after which we can search the northern part of the Cordillera, an area strewn with ruins."

"Thank you, William," Elizabeth said, earnestly.

Her humble tone, so abruptly a contrast to her coldness a moment ago, made him twitch in discomfort. Why did he love her desperately when she could discard him easily when not needed? He clapped his hat on and left the tent, failing to see the misery on her visage and the hopeless love in her eyes. Nor did he see Talbot lurking a few feet away, hidden in the shadows cast by the mimosa trees. If he had noticed him, he might have caught the sinister grin.

Later that week they registered at a comfortable hotel in La Pequena, a nondescript, unchartered, but neat little town on the northwestern outskirts of Peru. That evening in his room, furnished sparsely in white wicker, Talbot closed the shutters and reached for his backpack. From it, he withdrew a short cape threaded with silver and gold in geometrical patterns. He placed the cape over his shoulders. Next, he withdrew a slender stone figure measuring about a foot high with carved snakes aureoling its stylized head. To the Incas the figure represented Lanzon, a dark lord, and a symbol of death. Talbot placed the figure on top of a white wicker dressing table. He prostrated himself full length before it. Then he rose to his knees and softly chanted some prayers in an unidentifiable language.

Two voices; one male, one female, filtered angrily through the plaster-thin walls. Lord Hayden and Elizabeth were quarreling in their room. Talbot grinned. He looked reverently at the figure. "It begins..." he murmured confidently and lowered his head in obeisance to his Lord.