Don't Look Back (32 page)

Tobias ignored him to greet Emeline and Mrs. Chilton.

"Mr. March." Emeline gave him a gracious smile. "How nice to see you. What an unexpected surprise."

"A pleasure, Miss Emeline." He stopped and inclined his head. "Good day, Mrs. Chilton. I understand you went out for currants."

"I know how much you like currant jam," she muttered.

"I am certainly very fond of yours," he agreed. "Indeed, it was very kind of you to dash out for more currants this afternoon just to make a new batch for me. I can only hope that you will feel the urge to make a lot more jam in the future."

"Depends upon the weather."

"The weather?"

She gave him a reproving look. "Can't buy good currants when it's cold or when it rains. Ye might want to bear that in mind."

"I'll remember that."

At nine-thirty that evening Crackenburne slowly lowered his newspaper and looked at Tobias. "Things are not going well with your newest case, I take it?"

Tobias lounged against the mantel of the club-room fireplace and regarded the flames. "I would happily consign the bloody case to the pit if it were not for the fact that Lavinia is desperate to solve it."

"What do you intend to do?"

"There's not much I can do except solve the damned case, prove Hudson is a murderer, and let her see him for what he is."

"She may not thank you for proving her old family friend a villain."

Tobias noticed Vale walking toward them across the crowded clubroom. "Probably not."

"How goes the situation with Pelling?" Crackenburne asked.

"Nothing new there either. Anthony is still trying to find the prostitute Pelling is bedding. She seems to have dropped out of sight. But from what we can determine by talking to the stable lad at the inn, Pelling is merely in Town to see to his business affairs."

"Nevertheless, you are concerned about his presence here."

Tobias did not take his eyes off Vale. "I find the fact that two men from Lavinia's past chose the same month to visit London something of a disturbing coincidence."

"All coincidences disturb you," Crackenburne pointed out dryly. "And I must say, one cannot feel comfortable about the man. But let us try for a degree of logic. Has Pelling actually said or done anything to indicate that he has an interest in Lavinia?"

Tobias flexed the hand on top of the mantel. "No."

"He has not contacted her?"

"No."

"She has not encountered him since that one casual sighting in Pall Mall?"

"No."

"Then very likely his business in London is nothing out of the ordinary." Crackenburne's brows jiggled. "Mayhap he is shopping for a new wife."

Tobias frowned. "Hadn't thought of that possibility."

Vale came to a halt on the other side of the fireplace. He nodded at Crackenburne and then gave Tobias a look of polite inquiry. "I'm about to leave for Mrs. Dove's ball. Can I offer you a ride in my carriage?"

Tobias managed to conceal his surprise. "Thank you." He took his arm off the mantel. "I would appreciate it. I was not looking forward to finding a hackney in this fog."

"Enjoy yourselves." Crackenburne adjusted his spectacles. "Please convey my regards to your ladies."

"I don't seem to have a lady at the moment," Vale murmured.

"And you've never met Lavinia," Tobias said.

"Doesn't matter," Crackenburne said. "From what you've told me, Mrs. Dove and Mrs. Lake both sound extremely interesting females."

Vale was amused.
"Interesting
is an odd way to describe a lady."

"At my age interesting ladies are the most attractive sort." Crackenburne shook out his newspaper. "Good evening, gentlemen."

Tobias walked back through the club with Vale and out into the fog-bound night, where a sleek carriage and an elegantly matched team waited.

"Crackenburne always seems to know the latest rumors before anyone else." Vale got into the vehicle and sat down. "Astonishing, really. You must find him a great source of information."

Tobias grasped the edge of the door and hauled himself up into the carriage, grimly ignoring the twinge in his thigh. He settled into the comfortable cushions with a sense of relief and entertained a pleasant little fantasy of owning his own carriage and team. He could take Lavinia for long drives in the country, close the curtains for privacy, and make love to her for hours on well-sprung cushions.

"Crackenburne is quite helpful on occasion," he admitted.

The carriage rolled off into the fog.

Vale leaned back against the brown velvet squabs. "The man has a point. There is something to be said for an interesting lady."

"I agree. But in my experience,
interesting
generally implies stubborn, strong-willed, and unpredictable."

Vale nodded amiably. "Something to be said for those qualities too."

Tobias examined him in the light of the carriage lamp. "Do not mistake me, sir, I am indeed grateful for the ride in your carriage. But curiosity compels me to ask if it is the Blue Medusa or Mrs. Dove that persuaded you to attend Joan's ball tonight."

"I am a patient man, March." Vale looked out the window into the mist-shrouded night. "I have waited a year. I think that is long enough, don't you?"

"It depends what you are waiting for," Tobias said.

Twenty minutes later he paused with Vale at the top of the grand staircase. He looked down at the crowd of elegantly garbed guests, searching for Lavinia's flame-red head. It was not a simple task to find her in the throng. But wherever she was down there, he thought, she was no doubt feeling quite pleased with herself. The ball was another grand social coup.

Joan's ballroom glowed with the massed lights of three huge chandeliers. The gowns of the ladies were sprinkled about in the crowd like so many brilliant jewels. Musicians situated on the gilded balcony that surrounded the interior of the chamber poured music down on the scene.

He caught sight of Emeline on the dance floor. She was in the arms of a young man he did not recognize. Anthony would not be pleased.

That observation made him wonder where Anthony was at that moment. Fetching lemonade, no doubt.

"Our hostess is waiting for us." Vale looked toward the foot of the gilded staircase, where Joan waited to receive her guests. "Shall we go down?"

Tobias glanced at Joan. It struck him that there was something different about her tonight. Before he could decide what it was that seemed out of the ordinary, he heard his name called softly behind him.

"Tobias."

He turned and saw Anthony hurrying toward him along the balcony.

"Tobias, wait, I must speak with you."

Vale cocked an inquiring brow.

"Go down," Tobias said. "Joan is waiting. I will join you later."

Vale nodded and slowly descended the staircase, never looking away from Joan.

Anthony arrived at Tobias's side. He was properly attired for the ball, but he had a rushed air about him. His hair was damp from the fog. Excitement glittered in his eyes.

"Are you just now arriving?" Tobias frowned. "Thought you planned to come early in order to intimidate as many of Emeline's admirers as possible."

"I found her," Anthony said, excitement and triumph reverberating in the words.

"I just saw her myself, a moment ago. She is on the dance floor. Anthony, is there something odd about Mrs. Dove tonight?"

Anthony looked briefly distracted. "In what way?"

"I'm not certain. She appears different to me for some reason."

Anthony glanced past him to the foot of the steps. "She is wearing a blue gown."

"Yes, I can see that. What does that have to do with my question?"

Anthony grinned. "This is the first time she has not appeared in mourning."

"Ah, yes. Vale looks quite pleased, does he not?" He turned around. "What was it you were saying?"

"The streetwalker. The one Pelling has been amusing himself with here in Town. I found her."

"Why the devil didn't you say so?" Tobias felt all his senses sharpen. "Did you speak with her?"

"No. I was just about to leave my club to come here tonight when I found a boy waiting for me in the street. He had a message from one of the prostitutes I questioned. I'm late because I had a hard time finding her."

"On a night like this the women don't like to be out on the street unless they have no choice."

"She met me in a tavern. Said the name of the woman we're looking for is Maggie, and she gave me an address." Anthony grimaced. "For a price, of course."

"Where does Maggie live?"

"She has a room in Cutt Lane. Do you know it?"

"I know it." Tobias could feel the old, familiar sense of certainty running through him, a pulse of energy just beneath the surface. He clapped Anthony's shoulder. "Well done. Enjoy yourself with Miss Emeline. I'm off."

Some of Anthony's enthusiasm dimmed. "You're going to talk to the woman now?"

"Yes."

"Can't you wait until later?" Anthony started to look uneasy. "Mrs. Lake is expecting you to put in an appearance here at Mrs. Dove's ball. When she sees me, she will ask about you. What do you suggest I tell her?"

"Tell her that I was delayed at my club."

"But—"

"Don't worry," Tobias said. "She will not question you. Being delayed at one's club is a gentleman's universal excuse. It is appropriate to all occasions and all circumstances."

"I'm not sure Mrs. Lake will agree."

"You fret too much."

Tobias turned and made for the door before Anthony could come up with more objections.

Outside, he discovered that the fog was thickening rapidly. The heavy stuff seemed to absorb the bright lights of the house and reflect them back in an impenetrable wall of glowing mist. He could no longer make out the small park in the square.

A line of hackneys waited at the end of the row of expensive private carriages, the drivers hopeful of picking up stray business. He chose one and gave the coachman instructions to take him to Cutt Lane as quickly as possible.

His leg protested sharply when he got into the carriage. The damp night was taking its usual toll, he reflected. He dropped down onto the seat, closed the door, and absently rubbed his aching thigh.

Annoyed that the coach was not yet in motion, he reached up to rap on the roof to signal his impatience.

The vehicle's door slammed open without warning. He looked down and saw Lavinia, dressed in a deeply cut purple gown. She looked like an avenging goddess. His own personal Nemesis, he thought.

"Hand me up, if you please, March. Wherever you are going, rest assured that you are not going there alone. You seem to make a habit of forgetting that we are partners."

She could see at once that he was not pleased, but she chose to ignore his opinions. She was not in the best of moods herself.

She sat down and watched him shut the carriage door. The vehicle rumbled forward. Tobias unfolded the blanket that lay on the seat and tossed it to her.

"You'd better use this to keep warm," he muttered. "That gown was obviously not designed to be worn outside an overheated ballroom."

"If you had not been in such a hurry, I would have taken a moment to fetch my cloak."

She was relieved to discover that the blanket was relatively clean. Quickly, she pulled it around her shoulders and was immediately grateful for the warmth. Tobias lounged in the corner, watching her with narrowed eyes.

"I was waiting for you on the balcony," she said in response to his unspoken question. "I saw you and Vale enter and then I saw Anthony stop you. A moment later you turned and left. I knew at once that you were leaving to follow some clue. Where are we going?"

"I am on my way to meet a streetwalker named Maggie," he said without inflection. "For your information, she has nothing whatsoever to do with the Medusa affair."

"Rubbish. Do not expect me to believe that bit of nonsense. Why else would you go chasing off on a night like this to talk to a streetwalker, if not to pursue—"

She broke off abruptly, her jaw dropping in shock when it occurred to her that there certainly
was
a reason why a gentleman might take a hackney to visit a prostitute. A terrible pain uncurled like a serpent deep inside her. It was followed by a hollow, utterly numb sensation. She sat there, staring at Tobias, unable to speak.

"No, my sweet, that is
not
why I am off to visit the light-skirts. Surely you know me well enough by now to be certain of that much, at least."

Relief flooded through her. Of course Tobias would not resort to a prostitute. He would not betray her. What was the matter with her? She reined in her scattered senses with an effort of will. Still feeling flustered, she tightened her grip on the blanket.

"Tell me what this is about, Tobias. I have every right to know."

He contemplated her in silence for such a long time that she began to think he might not answer her.

"You are correct," he said at last. "You do have a right to know. The long and the short of it is that I have been told that this woman named Maggie has been entertaining Pelling during his stay here in Town."

She was so surprised she could only look at him rather blankly. Not an attractive expression, she reminded herself.

"This is about Oscar Pelling?" she finally managed.

"Yes."

"I don't understand."

He rested an arm on the window ledge. "I thought it best to keep an eye on him while he was here in Town. Anthony asked some questions at the inn where Pelling is staying and learned that he has been visiting a prostitute in the area. I want to interview her."

"But why? What do you hope to discover?"

He shrugged. "Nothing, probably. But I was never comfortable with the fact that both Pelling and Hudson showed up here in London at the same time."

"I thought we agreed it was nothing more than chance."

"
You
were certain of that. I was not entirely convinced."

"So you made some inquiries into Pelling's activities?"