“She did it because of me,” he said.
“You?”
“Matter of principle, you see.”
Anthony gave him a puzzled look. “No, I don’t see. No offense, Tobias, but you’re not making a great deal of sense. How much have you had to drink tonight?”
“Not enough.” Tobias tapped one finger against the side of the glass. “Lavinia dismissed her client because she blamed Mrs. Dove for putting me in jeopardy this evening.”
“Explain, please.”
Tobias explained. When he had finished, Anthony studied him for a long moment.
“Well, well, well,” Anthony said at last.
Tobias could not think of an intelligent riposte, so he let it go.
“Well, well, well,” Anthony said again.
“Lavinia has a temper. Mrs. Dove managed to set it alight tonight.”
“Evidently.”
Tobias swirled the remaining brandy in his glass. “I believe my partner is already regretting her action.”
Anthony quirked a brow. “Why do you say that?”
“Her last words to me as she got out of the carriage were to the effect that I was once again to blame for all of her problems.”
Anthony nodded wisely. “Sounds a sensible conclusion on her part.”
“I thought you mentioned that you were on your way home.”
“You are in one of your foul moods, are you not?”
Tobias thought about it. “I believe I am.”
Anthony surveyed him from head to foot with an interested expression. “You said you changed your clothes after the scuffle in the lane?”
“Yes.”
“Then can I assume that the reason you appear so disheveled is due to another, more recent tussle?”
Tobias narrowed his eyes. “If you think I am not in good temper now, pray continue with your quizzing. You will soon discover just how unpleasant my mood can become.”
“Ah, so now we arrive at the heart of the matter. You kissed Mrs. Lake and she slapped your face for your trouble.”
“Mrs. Lake,” Tobias said very deliberately, “did not slap my face.”
Anthony stared at him, eyes widening.
“Hell’s teeth,” he whispered. “Never say that you . . . that you actually . . . With Mrs. Lake? In a carriage ? But she’s a lady. How could you?”
Tobias looked at him.
Whatever Anthony saw in his face was sufficient to make him swallow and hurriedly turn his attention back to the embers on the hearth.
The tall clock ticked relentlessly toward dawn.
Tobias sunk deeper into his chair. It was annoying to be lectured by a younger man who had never been seriously involved with a woman in his life.
After a while, Anthony cleared his throat. “You know that she plans to attend the theater tomorrow evening.” He glanced at the clock. “Actually, that would be tonight, would it not? In any event, you could arrange to be there too. She and Emeline will be in the company of Lady Wortham and her daughter. It would be quite appropriate for you to pay a call on them in their box.”
Tobias put his fingertips together. “Indeed.”
“Never fear,” Anthony said very smoothly, “I wouldn’t dream of sending you off on your own into such uncharted waters. You obviously need a guide. I shall be happy to accompany you to the theater.”
“Ah, so that is what this is all about.”
Anthony gave him a look of innocent inquiry. “I beg your pardon?”
“You wish to attend the theater tomorrow night because you know Miss Emeline will be there. You want a convenient excuse to pay a visit to the Wortham box.”
Anthony’s expression tightened. “Emeline is to be put on display in the marriage mart tomorrow night. Lavinia is hoping to attract an eligible suitor for her, remember?”
“The sacrificed Apollo. I remember.”
“Precisely. Emeline is so charming and so clever, I fear that Lavinia’s scheme will bear fruit.”
Tobias winced.
Anthony paused in obvious concern. “Does your leg ache badly tonight?”
“It is not my leg that pains me. It is the reference to fruit.”
His leg was actually feeling remarkably comfortable at the moment, Tobias thought. The brandy, no doubt. But now that he considered the matter, he realized he had stopped noticing the familiar discomfort earlier tonight. At about the time he had begun to make love to Lavinia. Nothing like a bit of distraction to take a man’s mind off his aches and pains, he thought glumly.
Anthony looked blank. “I don’t understand. What’s this about fruit?”
“Never mind. I wouldn’t worry about Lavinia’s schemes if I were you. Emeline is an interesting young lady and she may attract some attention. But once word gets around that she is not an heiress, the shrewd mamas of the ton will make certain their sons do not look too long in that direction.”
“That may well be true, but what about all the rakehells and professional seducers? You know as well as I do that no young lady is safe from that sort. They make sport of seducing the innocent.”
“Lavinia can protect Emeline.” Tobias thought about Emeline’s coolheadedness in Rome. “Actually, I have a hunch that Miss Emeline can take care of herself.”
“Nevertheless, I would prefer not to take any chances.” Anthony gripped the mantel determinedly. “And as my goals appear to align with yours, we may as well work together on this project.”
Tobias exhaled deeply. “We are a pair of fools.”
“Speak for yourself.” Anthony headed happily toward the door. “I will secure the theater tickets first thing tomorrow.”
“Anthony?”
“Yes?”
“Did I tell you that Lavinia and her parents were practitioners of mesmerism?”
“No, but Miss Emeline mentioned it, I believe. What of it?”
“You took a brief interest in the subject some time back. Do you think it’s possible for a skilled practitioner of the art to put a man into a trance without him being aware of the process?”
Anthony smiled slowly. “It’s entirely possible that a weak-minded man might be vulnerable to the skills of a very proficient practitioner. But I cannot imagine for one moment that a man endowed with a strong, resolute will and keen powers of observation could ever be put into a trance.”
“You’re certain?”
“Not unless he wished to be entranced, that is.”
Anthony went very quickly out the door and closed it behind himself.
Tobias heard him laughing all the way down the hall and out the front door.
twelve
“What on earth is wrong with you this morning?” Emeline reached for the coffeepot. “I vow, you are in a very strange mood.”
“I have a right to be in a strange mood.” Lavinia ladled eggs onto her plate. She was also unusually hungry, she realized. She had awakened with an extremely healthy appetite. All that exercise in Mrs. Dove’s carriage, no doubt. “I told you, we are presently without a client.”
“You were quite correct to terminate your association with Mrs. Dove.” Emeline poured coffee into her cup. “She had no business instructing her man to spy upon Mr. March. Who knows what she intended?”
“I’m almost certain she ordered the footman to try to get to the diary first or take it from Mr. March by force. She wanted the book very, very badly. She did not want Tobias or me to read the passages that contained her secrets.”
“Even though she had already told you about them?”
Lavinia raised her brows. “I am forced to agree with Mr. March. I think we can assume that whatever Mrs. Dove’s secrets are, they amount to something more than the details of an indiscretion conducted in the distant past.”
“Well, that is neither here nor there now, is it? The diary has been destroyed.”
“I may have been a bit hasty in throwing her money back in her face,” Lavinia said slowly.
Emeline’s eyes sparkled. “It was the principle of the thing,”
she said.
“Yes, it was. Mr. March was an extremely difficult partner, but he was my associate in the affair. I could hardly allow a client to believe she could treat him like a pawn and perhaps take advantage of him. One has one’s pride.”
“Was it your pride or Mr. March’s pride that concerned you last night?” Emeline asked dryly.
“It makes no matter now. The upshot is that I am without a client this morning.”
“Never fear. Another one will soon come along.”
Emeline’s sunny optimism could be extremely irritating at times, Lavinia reflected.
“It occurs to me,” she said, “that Mr. March will no doubt collect his fee from his client. In which event, he really ought to split it with me, don’t you think?”
“Indeed,” Emeline said.
“I believe I will mention the matter to him.” Lavinia munched eggs and absently listened to the muffled clatter of hooves and carriage wheels in the street. “Do you know, as difficult as he proved to be on occasion, Mr. March was of some use in the affair. When all is said and done, he was the one who discovered the valet’s diary.”
Emeline eyed her with interest. “What are you thinking, Lavinia?”
She gave an elaborate shrug. “It strikes me that it might prove beneficial to both Mr. March and myself to occasionally collaborate in the future.”
“Well.” A strange expression appeared in Emeline’s eyes. “Well, well, well. Indeed. A fascinating thought.”
The thought of future partnerships with Tobias was exhilarating and quite terrifying, Lavinia decided. Best to change the subject.
“First things first,” she said firmly. “Today we must concentrate on your evening at the theater tonight.”
“Our evening at the theater.”
“Indeed. It was very kind of Lady Wortham to invite me also.”
Emeline’s brows rose. “I believe she is somewhat curious about you.”
Lavinia frowned. “I trust you have not mentioned any of my former careers to her?”
“Of course not.”
“And you haven’t told her anything of my new business venture either, I hope?”
“No.”
“Excellent.” Lavinia relaxed slightly. “I do not believe that Lady Wortham would find any of my professions suitable.”
“In her circles, there are no suitable professions for females,” Emeline pointed out.
“Quite true. Tonight I shall make certain to drop a hint to the effect that you have a modest but secure inheritance.”
“That’s not exactly a hint, Aunt Lavinia. It’s more in the nature of a lie.”
“Details.” Lavinia waved that aside. “Now then, do not forget we have our final fittings at Madame Francesca’s this morning.”
“I will not forget.” Emeline hesitated, a worried frown marking her usually smooth brow. “Aunt Lavinia, concerning this evening, I trust you will not get your hopes too high. I’m quite sure that I will not take.”
“Nonsense. You will look beautiful in your new gown.”
Emeline grinned. “Not nearly so beautiful as Priscilla Wortham, which, of course, is the real reason her mother has been so kind to me and well you know it. She believes that having me in the vicinity shows Priscilla off to advantage.”
“I don’t care a fig for Lady Wortham’s schemes—” Lavinia broke off, appalled. She cleared her throat and tried again. “It makes no matter to me that Lady Wortham is plotting to display Priscilla in the best possible light. As Priscilla’s mother, that is her duty. But in the process, she has provided us with a golden opportunity, and I intend to make full use of it.”
The door of the breakfast room opened without warning. Mrs. Chilton loomed. There was a marked glint of excitement in her eyes.
“Mrs. Dove is here, ma’am,” she said loudly. “Are you seeing callers at this early hour?”
“Mrs. Dove?”
Panic roared through Lavinia. Tobias had been wrong when he had assured her there were no stains on the carriage cushions. In the poor light, he had no doubt missed an incriminating spot. She wondered if Joan Dove had come to demand payment for damages done to the seat of her expensive equipage. How much did it cost to recover a carriage cushion?
“Aye, ma’am. Shall I put her in the parlor or yer study?”
“What does she want?” Lavinia asked warily.
Mrs. Chilton looked startled. “Well, as to that, I couldn’t say, ma’am. She asked to speak with you. Do you want me to send her away?”
“No, of course not.” Lavinia took a deep breath and braced herself. She was a woman of the world. She could deal with this sort of thing. “I will see her. Please show her into my study immediately.”
“Aye, ma’am.” Mrs. Chilton removed herself from the doorway and disappeared.
Emeline looked thoughtful. “I’ll wager that Mrs. Dove has come here this morning to insist upon paying you for your services.”
Lavinia’s spirits rose. “Do you really think so?”
“What other reason could there be?”
“Well—”
“Perhaps she wishes to apologize for her actions.”
“I doubt it.”
“Lavinia?” Emeline frowned. “What is wrong? I should think you would be thrilled that she has come here today to give you the money she owes you.”
“Thrilled.” Lavinia went slowly toward the door. “Absolutely thrilled.”
She managed to keep Mrs. Dove waiting for four full minutes before the suspense became unbearable. She tried to look politely unconcerned and unhurried as she walked into the study.
A woman of the world.
“Good day, Mrs. Dove. This is a surprise. I was not expecting you.”
Joan stood in front of the bookcase, where she had apparently been perusing the handful of volumes on the shelves. She wore a dark gray gown that Madame Francesca had obviously designed to discreetly display her elegant figure and to accent her blond and silver hair.
The veil of the clever black hat was crumpled attractively on the brim. The expression in Joan’s eyes was, as always, unreadable.
“I see you read poetry,” Joan said.
Caught off guard by the remark, Lavinia glanced quickly at the handful of books. “I do not have many volumes at the moment. I was obliged to leave a great many behind when we returned somewhat hurriedly from a recent tour of Italy. It will take me some time to replenish the contents of my library.”
“Forgive me for disturbing you so early in the day,” Joan said. “But I did not sleep at all last night and my nerves would not tolerate any further delay.”
Lavinia forged a path toward the fortress that was her desk. “Please be seated.”
“Thank you.” Joan chose a chair in front of the desk. “I shall come straight to the point. I wish to apologize for what occurred last night. My only excuse is that I did not entirely trust Mr. March. I felt it would be best to keep an eye on him.”
“I see.”
“I came here today to insist upon paying you the fee I owe you. You and Mr. March were successful, after all. It is not your fault the diary was destroyed.”
“Perhaps it’s for the best,” Lavinia said carefully.
“You may be correct. However, it still leaves a rather glaring question.”
“You wish to know who sent you that dreadful little waxwork, I suppose.”
“I cannot rest until I know the answer,” Joan said. “I wish you to continue your inquiries into the matter.”
Joan had not come here today to complain of ruined carriage cushions. She was here to pay her bill and to request further services.
Lavinia sat down rather more abruptly than she had intended. Quite suddenly the morning seemed much brighter in spite of the rain. She made an effort to conceal her relief behind a professional facade. Very deliberately she clasped her hands on her desk.
“I see,” she murmured.
“I will understand if you feel it necessary to raise your fees to
compensate for what you feel was my failure to be completely forthright in the matter of the diary.”
Lavinia cleared her throat. “Under the circumstances.”
“Yes, of course,” Joan said. “Name your price.”
If she had any sense at all, Lavinia thought, she would seize the opportunity of a second chance, pluck a handsome sum out of the air, and let bygones be bygones. But the memory of Tobias’s close call last night insisted upon getting in the way.
Against her better judgment, she fixed Joan with a steady gaze.
“If we are to continue to do business together, Mrs. Dove, I must make it plain that there is to be no more spying on your part. I will not have Mr. March followed about as if he were a thief and a villain. He is a professional, just as I am.”
Joan elevated one brow. “Mr. March is important to you, is he not?”
She would not rise to that bait, Lavinia vowed silently. “I’m sure you will understand when I tell you that I feel a strong sense of obligation toward Mr. March because he is my business associate.”
“I see. A sense of obligation.”
“Indeed. Now then, Mrs. Dove, may I have your promise that you will not send a man to skulk about in the shadows while Mr. March is performing his inquiries?”
Joan hesitated and then inclined her head slightly. “You have my word that I will not interfere again.”
“Very well.” Lavinia smiled coolly. “I shall send a message to Mr. March immediately. If he has no objection to resuming inquiries on your behalf, I will accept your new commission.”
“Something tells me that Mr. March will not be at all hesitant to continue on in his capacity as your associate in this affair. I gained the distinct impression last night that he was not in favor of the manner in which you hurled my money back in my face.”
Lavinia felt herself grow very warm. “I did not throw it back in your face, Mrs. Dove. Not literally.”
Joan smiled. She said nothing.
Lavinia sat back in her chair. “Very well, I believe you are correct when you say that Mr. March will be only too pleased to resume his efforts in this matter. Going on that assumption, I may as well ask you some questions. It will save time.”
Joan inclined her head. “Yes, of course.”