Don’t Look Back

Chapter Thirteen

It was the first time she had danced since Fielding’s death.

Joan felt oddly bemused as Vale guided her through the sweeping turn.

She had never thought to waltz with any man again, had never even dreamed that someday she might enjoy the music and the graceful patterns with anyone other than her beloved Fielding. Yet here she was, in the arms of one of his more dangerous friends, and it was intoxicating.

“Your gown is exquisite, madam,” Vale said. “But I cannot help but notice that you still wear the colors of mourning, even though it has been a year since Fielding departed this world.”

“I miss him,” she said quietly.

“I understand. I miss him too. Fielding was my friend. But I must tell you that I do not believe that he would have wanted you to wear nothing but gray and black for the rest of your life.”

She did not know what to say to that. The truth was that until quite recently she had not even thought about ending her period of mourning. She had had no desire to end it. Indeed, she knew that some part of her had anticipated wearing somber hues forever.

But the certainty that she was doomed to live out her days in a state of melancholia had begun to abate in recent weeks. Lavinia and Tobias had broken through the dark trance in which she had been ensnared. They had found answers to the questions surrounding Fielding’s death, questions that had haunted her for months. In doing so, they had helped free her from a gloom that had seemed unrelenting.

“We shall see,” she said.

Vale smiled, obviously content for now with her response. He swept her into another long, gliding turn.

He was, she thought, an excellent dancer. She relaxed and gave herself up to the glorious strains of the waltz and the sure strength of his arms.

“You have acquired some interesting new companions,” Vale said after a while.

The comment brought her back to the reality of the moment with a decided jolt. This was no pleasant dream. Vale did nothing without a reason. She must be on her guard.

“You refer to Mrs. Lake and Mr. March, I believe,” she said smoothly. “They are, indeed, somewhat out of the ordinary. But I find I enjoy their company.”

He chuckled. “That is no doubt because you, madam, are very much out of the ordinary yourself.” He paused for another turn. “I know nothing of Mrs. Lake, but there are a number of rumors about March.”

“You surprise me, sir. I would not have thought you the type to give credence to gossip.”

“You know very well that I pay very close attention to certain types of gossip, just as Fielding did.”

“What do the rumors say of Mr. March?” she asked.

“Among other things, they tell me that he served as a spy during the war and that he continues to make a living in a rather unorthodox fashion.” Vale gave her a knowing look. “I believe he accepts commissions to conduct private investigations on behalf of persons who prefer to avoid Bow Street.”

“A most unusual line of work.”

“Yes, it is.”

“But no doubt quite an interesting occupation.”

Vale’s brows rose. “One hears that he and, presumably, his good friend Mrs. Lake are presently searching for a certain antiquity.”

“Ah.”

Vale looked amused. “What does that signify, madam?”

“Merely the fact that you mention this relic implies that you too are looking for it, sir.”

He sighed mockingly. “Subtlety is lost on you, madam. You know me too well.”

“On the contrary, sir. I do not know you well at all. But when it comes to the matter of rare antiquities, I am acquainted with some of your tastes.”

“Yes, of course. You and I and Fielding discussed the pleasures of collecting many times over the years, did we not?” He spun her into another turn. “I believe that you are something of an authority yourself.”

“I do not claim any great expertise, but I admit that I learned many things about relics while listening to you and Fielding discuss and compare your acquisitions,” she said.

“And of course, you have inherited Dove’s outstanding collection, have you not? Tell me, madam, do you intend to add to it?”

Keep him guessing, she thought. Give nothing away.

“If that is a subtle way of asking me whether or not I plan to acquire the Blue Medusa,” she said, “I cannot give you an answer as yet. I have not made up my mind.”

“I see.” He brought her to a halt at the edge of the dance floor, neatly manipulating her into the seclusion of a private alcove. He did not take his hand from her arm. “I have no wish to find myself competing directly with you.”

“But that wish would not stop you from doing so should the need arise, correct?”

He smiled and ignored the question. “There is another aspect of this situation that alarms me, madam.”

“I am astonished, sir. I did not think anything could alarm you.”

“On the contrary. You are the widow of one of the few men I have ever called friend, and I would be negligent in my responsibility to Fielding’s memory if I did not try to prevent you from exposing yourself to undue risk.”

“I assure you, I am not at risk in this matter.”

“I am concerned about your role in this affair, Joan.”

“Do not trouble yourself with any concerns on my behalf, my lord.” She smiled. “I assure you, I am well able to take care of myself. My husband was an excellent instructor in many subjects, not just antiquities.”

“Yes, of course.” He did not look pleased with her response, but he inclined his head very civilly. “I apologize if I have intruded into your private affairs.”

“You need not apologize, sir. I am happy to tell you that I am assisting Mrs. Lake and Mr. March in their investigations.”

That stopped him cold. If she had not witnessed his stunned expression, she would never have believed him capable of such a degree of astonishment. A tiny thrill of triumph shot through her.

“Assisting them?” he repeated blankly. “Bloody hell, Joan. What the devil are you talking about?”

She chuckled. “Calm yourself, my lord. It is merely a hobby of mine.” She was oddly pleased with having disconcerted him to such an extent. “But an amusing one, if I do say so.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It is really quite simple. I have connections in places they do not. When those connections might prove useful, I endeavor to take advantage of them.”

His mouth quirked humorlessly. “Am I one of those connections? Is that why you accepted my invitation to dance? So that you could pursue your investigations on behalf of March and Mrs. Lake?”

“Not at all, sir. I danced with you because you asked me and because it pleased me to do so.”

Irritation flashed in his eyes, but he bent politely over her hand. “I trust you enjoyed yourself, madam.”

“Oh, I did, indeed, sir, even though I am well aware that the only reason you are here tonight is because you are after the bracelet and you wanted to discover my role and the role of my friends in the affair. I trust you are satisfied with the results of your own inquiry.”

He straightened but he did not immediately release her hand. “A word of warning, Joan. This affair of the Medusa is a dangerous business.”

“I shall bear that in mind, sir.”

He looked less than pleased with that, but they both knew there was nothing he could do about her involvement in the situation.

“I will bid you good night, madam,” he said.

“Good night, my lord.” She gave him a demure curtsy. “I am honored that you chose to renew our acquaintance this evening, even though I know you had ulterior motives.”

He paused briefly in the act of turning away. “The honor was mine. Allow me to tell you that you are wrong on one point, however. I did not invite you to dance solely because I wanted to quiz you on the subject of the bracelet.”

“No?”

“I asked you,” he said deliberately, “because I very much wished to dance with you.”

He disappeared into the crowd before she could think of a response.

She stood there for a long time and thought about how much she had enjoyed her brief moment in Vale’s arms.

Tobias opened his eyes and studied the gleam of silver light on a nearby leaf. He was flat on his back on the padded bench, one booted foot on the floor. Lavinia was on top of him, her skirts tumbled across his thighs, her breasts pillowed against his chest. He looked up at the night on the other side of the conservatory windows and wished that he did not have to move.

He wondered if Lavinia found this business of conducting an affair as bloody uncomfortable at times as he did. What he would not give for a warm bed.

Lavinia stirred, started to snuggle, and then abruptly stiffened.

“Good heavens.” She flattened her palms on his chest and levered herself up to a sitting position. “It is very late. We must return to the ballroom. By now Joan or Anthony or Emeline will no doubt have noticed that we have disappeared. It would be extremely awkward if someone came in search of us and found us together like this.”

He sat up slowly, eyeing the position of the moon through the glass panes of the conservatory roof. “We have not been gone all that long. I doubt we’ve been missed.”

“Well, we certainly cannot dawdle here any longer.” She struggled with the bodice of her gown. “Is my hair badly mussed?”

He watched her put herself to rights. “Your hair looks fine.”

“Thank heavens.” She got the sleeves of the gown up over her shoulders, stood, and shook out her skirts. “I cannot imagine anything more embarrassing than walking back into Lady Stillwater’s elegant ballroom looking as if… as if-”

“As if we had been making love?” He got to his feet and shoved his shirttails back into his trousers. “Somehow, I do not think there are many who would be greatly surprised.”

“What?” She swung around, her voice rising, eyes widening. “Are you saying that everyone knows that we-” She broke off and waved one of her hands wildly.

“That we are lovers?” He grinned at her expression of horror. “I suspect so.”

“But how can that be? I have never told a single soul.” She glared at him. “Tobias, I vow, if you have discussed the details of our personal connection with anyone, I shall throttle you.”

“I take grave offense at that, madam.” He held up both hands, palms out. “I am a gentleman. I would not dream of disclosing such intimate details to anyone. But I must tell you that our friends and relatives would have to be uncommonly stupid not to have concluded that we are engaged in an affair.”

“Oh, dear.” She looked nonplussed. “Do you really think so?”

“Calm yourself, Lavinia. It is not as if we are two young, inexperienced people with reputations to consider. We have both been out in the world for some time and have acquired a certain immunity. Provided we are reasonably discreet, no one will so much as blink at what we choose to do in private.”

“But what of Emeline and Anthony? We really ought to set a proper example, don’t you think?”

“No,” he said flatly. He shrugged into his coat. “There is no call for us to set an example for them. The rules are different for people of our age and experience. Emeline and Anthony know that as well as we do.”

She hesitated. “Well, yes, I suppose what you say is true. Nevertheless, discretion is required, and in future we really must take more care when it comes to this sort of thing.”

“I will allow that your concerns on the subject of discretion are not entirely unfounded. In addition, I have noticed that this business of sneaking around has a few other drawbacks. One is forever searching for privacy. Indoor locations are hard to come by, and when they are not available, one is obliged to keep an eye on the weather.”

“True. But I have been thinking about the matter lately and I have concluded that there are some positive aspects.”

A chill of dread went through him. “Such as?”

“I do worry about being discovered and I still get a jolt of horror whenever there is a close call. And then there is the discretion issue. But when all is said and done, I must admit that it is quite thrilling at times.”

“Thrilling,” he repeated evenly.

“Indeed.” Her voice brightened with enthusiasm. “Odd as it seems, I have begun to wonder if perhaps the very risk of being discovered is responsible for a certain sense of excitement.”

“Excitement.”

“Yes. And I must say that the frequent change of location endows the business with a definite touch of novelty.”

“A touch of novelty.”

Good God, she had grown to enjoy the clandestine aspects and the uncomfortable venues. This was his own fault, he thought. Like Dr. Frankenstein in that new horrid novel he had been hearing about, he had created a monster.

“How many other people do you think will have made love in a conservatory?” she continued with what sounded like genuine scholarly interest.

“I have no notion.” He yanked open the door. “Nor do I care to discover the answer to that question.”

“Do you know,” she continued brightly, “some of our more daring trysts remind me of scenes from certain poems. Byron’s writings, especially, come to mind.”

“Bloody hell.” He stopped and turned around to confront her. “I don’t know about you, but I have no intention of spending the rest of my days hiring dirty hackneys and searching out secluded sections of the park whenever we wish to-”

The long scrape of a boot sliding on gravel stopped him cold. He turned swiftly, putting Lavinia behind him.

“Who goes there?” he said. “Show yourself.”

There was movement on the other side of the hedge. A low, hulking figure slithered around the corner of the bristling greenery and came to a halt at the edge of a patch of moonlight. He wore a many-tiered greatcoat that cloaked him from neck to ankle. A shapeless hat was pulled down over his face. He stood slanted and hunched, a walking stick in one hand.

“Forgive me if I am interrupting,” the stranger rasped in a bruised voice. “I assumed the two of ye had finished your business in the conservatory.”

Lavinia peered at the strange little man over Tobias’s shoulder. “Who are you, sir?”

“Mr. Nightingale, I presume?” Tobias did not take his eyes off the newcomer. “I was told you preferred to meet under cover of darkness.”

“Aye, sir, that I do. Darkness offers a cloak of privacy that is difficult to obtain in any other way.” Mr. Nightingale sketched a small bow. “A pleasure to meet ye both.”

“How did you get into this garden?” Lavinia asked. “Lady Stillwater maintains a small army of servants. I cannot imagine how you managed to slip past them.”

“On a night such as this, with so many people coming and going, it was quite a simple matter to get past the footmen at the front door. Rest assured, I do not intend to stay long.” He chuckled hoarsely at some private joke. “I have no great interest in dancing.”

“What do you want with us?” Tobias asked.

“Rumor has it that ye are looking for a certain artifact.”

“To be precise, we are looking for the person who murdered a woman in order to steal the artifact,” Lavinia said.

Mr. Nightingale made a lumpy movement that was no doubt intended to be a shrug. “Either way, ye’re looking for the Blue Medusa, are ye not?”

“Well, yes,” Lavinia agreed. “If we discover it, we’ll no doubt learn the identity of the killer. Can you help us?”

“I’ve got no interest in murderers, although I wish ye well in your hunt,” Mr. Nightingale said. “Generally speaking, murder is bad for me business. Oh, I’ll admit that it does add a bit of spice now and again and sometimes drives up the prices in certain quarters. But unfortunately, it can just as often lower them. There are any number of clients who get nervous when there’s murder involved, ye see.”

“What is your interest in the bracelet?” Tobias asked.

“Have ye heard of a small, very exclusive club known as the Connoisseurs?” Mr. Nightingale asked softly.

Lavinia inhaled sharply, a small, startled gasp. But she kept silent.

“We know of it,” Tobias said. “What does it have to do with this case?”

“The number of members is limited. Openings occur rarely. They come about only when a member dies, quits, or is tossed out of the club. Competition to join the club is fierce.”

“Go on,” Tobias said.

“As it happens,” Mr. Nightingale continued softly, “such an opening has existed for a year now and word has gone out that it will at last be filled. Rumor has it that the Connoisseurs is accepting applications.”

“Prospective members must present an artifact for the club’s private museum of curiosities, I believe,” Tobias said. “The person whose offering is judged the most suitable will be admitted to the club.”

“You are well informed, Mr. March.” Nightingale nodded approvingly. “The Keeper of the club’s museum makes the final decision, and the deadline for applications is less than a fortnight away.”

“You think the Blue Medusa will appeal to the Keeper, is that it?” Tobias asked.

“The Keeper is known to have a strong preference for British-Roman antiquities. They say he has a passion for ‘em.” Mr. Nightingale shook his head. “Don’t understand it meself. Most collectors of a truly discriminating nature prefer relics from the ancient ruins abroad. Hard to compare a cameo found in some English farmer’s field with a fine statue discovered in Pompeii, if you ask me. But there ye have it. Each to his own, I suppose.”

“Given the Keeper’s personal preference for artifacts discovered in England,” Lavinia said, “the Blue Medusa would suffice nicely as a membership offering for the club’s private museum.”

“Aye.” Mr. Nightingale’s eyes gleamed briefly in the deep shadow of his shapeless hat. “I believe it’s fair to say that whoever presents it to the Keeper will be admitted to the Connoisseurs.”

“What precisely is your interest in the bracelet?” Tobias asked. “Thinking of applying for admission?”

“Me?” Nightingale gave his raw laugh again, as if Tobias had said something vastly entertaining. “I’ve no wish to join a fancy club. My interest is in the money to be made in the process. I intend to hold a very private auction, ye see. I will invite only certain exclusive persons to bid.”

“Persons who are anxious to join the Connoisseurs and will pay whatever it takes to obtain the relic that will ensure admission, is that it?” Tobias asked.

“Precisely,” Mr. Nightingale said.

“Assuming we find the bracelet,” Tobias said, “why the devil should we turn it over to you?”

“I hear ye’re a man of business, sir. I’m offering a business proposition. If ye and your associate here turn up the bracelet, I am prepared to pay ye a handsome fee.”

“I’m afraid it will be quite impossible for us to turn the bracelet over to you,” Lavinia said briskly.

Tobias cleared his throat. “Uh, Lavinia-”

“If we should happen to locate it,” she continued, “we would be obliged to return it to its rightful owner.”

“Who will soon be dead, according to the rumors I’ve heard.” Mr. Nightingale snorted softly. “Where he’s going, I doubt he’ll have any need of it.”

“That doesn’t mean that you have any right to steal it from his estate,” Lavinia snapped.

Tobias tried again. “Lavinia, I think you’ve said enough.”

“I’m not talking about stealing the bloody bracelet,” Mr. Nightingale growled. “I’m discussing a business proposition.”

Lavinia raised her chin and looked down her nose at Nightingale. The little man was, Tobias thought, one of the few people in the world whom she could look down at, given her own stature.

“My associate and I do not engage in illicit bargains of the sort you are describing,” she said coldly. “Is that not correct, Mr. March?”

“It might be possible to fulfill our commission and engage in a legal bargain that is profitable for all concerned,” Tobias said carefully.

Lavinia and Mr. Nightingale both looked at him.

“Just how do you intend to accomplish that?” Lavinia demanded.

“I’m not certain yet,” he admitted. “But given the amount of money at stake in this affair, I fully expect inspiration to strike at some point.”

Mr. Nightingale gargled. “A man after me own heart, ye are, sir. Not one to let a golden opportunity slip through your fingers, are ye?”

“Not if I can help it,” Tobias said. “Given that you have asked for our assistance, I have a few questions for you.”

“What sort of questions?”

“Have you heard any rumors at all about the mesmerist’s wife?”

“The lady who was murdered in this affair?” Mr. Nightingale moved his twisted frame in a negative motion. “They say she conspired with her lover to steal the bracelet. Some say that when the deed was done, he strangled her and took the damned thing. Others say her husband followed her to the rendezvous that night and murdered her. Either way the antiquity has vanished. That is all I know.”

Tobias watched him. “But the Medusa has not come up for sale on the underworld market or else you would not be seeking our assistance.”

“Ye have the right of it, sir,” Mr. Nightingale said. “Been no rumors of the damned thing being offered for sale. None at all.”

“Doesn’t that strike you as odd?” Tobias asked.

Mr. Nightingale squinted in the shadows. “Odd?”

Lavinia glanced at Tobias. “Why do you find it strange?”

“Given the value of the Medusa in certain quarters, I would have expected the killer to contact a man of business in the antiquities line, a professional such as Mr. Nightingale here, as swiftly as possible. One would think that the villain would be anxious to turn a profit immediately.”

“Perhaps the thief is waiting until the furor over the murder fades,” Lavinia suggested.

“But holding on to the bracelet puts him at great risk,” Tobias said. “It is dangerous to keep it in his possession, because it is evidence of a murder that could send him to the gallows.”

Lavinia contemplated that briefly. “You have a point. Furthermore, the killer is no doubt aware by now that we are looking for him. One would, indeed, think that he would want to get rid of the Medusa as swiftly as possible.”

Mr. Nightingale studied Tobias from beneath his slouchy cap. “The murder is your affair. I told ye, I’ve got no interest in it. I’m a simple man of business, and me only concern here is for the profit that’s to be made if this thing is handled properly. Well, sir? Have we got a bargain?”

“Mrs. Lake is correct,” Tobias said slowly. “If we recover the bracelet, it must be returned to its rightful owner.”

“Now, see here,” Mr. Nightingale began heatedly, “I thought ye just said-”

Tobias cut him off with a raised hand. “However, as you noted, the owner is not in the best of health, and the lady who is in line to inherit apparently has no particular interest in antiquities. For a fee, I would be willing to put your offer before her. I cannot guarantee that she will deal with you, but at least you would have a chance of obtaining the Medusa.”

“Huh.” Nightingale mulled that over for a long moment. “The profit would not be nearly so high if I must first purchase the Medusa from Banks’s heir. I would no doubt be obliged to give her a fair price for the damned relic. And then there would be your fee on top of it, March.”

“Something tells me you would do very nicely out of the arrangement,” Tobias said easily. “Your clientele is not the sort to quibble over your inflated prices. All they care about is acquiring the Medusa.”

“And just think of the advantages, sir,” Lavinia said smoothly. “Any bargain you struck with Banks’s heir would be legal and without risk.”

Mr. Nightingale waved that aside with a cramped hand. “Takes some of the sport out of it, if ye ask me.”

“Nevertheless,” Tobias said, “that is all we are prepared to offer. Take it or leave it.”

“Damn yer eyes, March, can’t ye see there’s more profit in this for all of us if we keep the heir out of it?”

“Unfortunately, we’ve got our professional reputations to consider,” Tobias said. “Can’t have gossip going around that March and Lake are in the habit of taking advantage of heirs. Not good for business.”

“Humph.” Mr. Nightingale rapped his walking stick on the ground a couple of times. “Very well, if that’s your only offer, I’ll accept it. Mind ye, though, if the Medusa falls into me hands from some other source, our arrangement no longer stands. I won’t owe ye or Banks’s heir a penny.”

He turned away without another word and made to move off into the shadows, one foot dragging heavily.

“I understand,” Tobias said quietly to his back. “But if matters transpire in that fashion, do not be surprised if the heir hires us to recover her stolen bracelet. In which event, we would know precisely where to look.”

Mr. Nightingale halted and looked back over his hunched shoulder. “Is that a threat, March?”

“Consider it more in the nature of a bit of professional advice,” Tobias said softly.

“Bah. I’ll give ye some advice in return. If ye and your lady hope to make your fortunes in the investigation business, ye’d best develop a more practical attitude toward matters of a financial nature.”

Nightingale slouched off around the hedge without waiting for a response.

There was a short silence. When he was certain they were alone again, Tobias took Lavinia’s arm and started toward the bright lights of the ballroom.

“There is something I have been meaning to tell you,” Lavinia said quietly.

“A shudder of dread passes through me whenever you say those words, madam.”

“It is about Mrs. Rushton, Banks’s heir.”

“What about her?”

“I suspect that she may be involved in this in some manner.”

He stopped and turned so that he could examine her face in the glow that spilled from the ballroom windows. “What the devil are you talking about?”

“I may have neglected to mention that after we got Banks’s name from Tredlow this afternoon, Emeline and I called at the Banks mansion.”

“Yes, you certainly did neglect to mention that little tidbit,” he said evenly. “Why?”

She made a face. “If you must know, I was saving it for a surprise.”

“Allow me to inform you, Lavinia,” he said, aware of a painful tightness in his jaw, “that there is nothing I hate more than a surprise in the course of an investigation.”

“Yes, well, it was only a small one,” she muttered. “I suppose I wanted to impress you. Or maybe simply make a point.”

“What the devil is your point?”

Irritation flared in her eyes. “My point is that you are forever assuming the role of instructor and expert in our partnership. Always going off to consult your private connections. Connections, I might add, that you refuse to introduce to me.”

“Damn it, Lavinia-”

“I wanted to demonstrate that I was perfectly capable of conducting my share of an investigation.”

He said nothing.

“You need not look at me like that, Tobias. We are equals in this partnership, and I have every right to pursue my own inquiries when the opportunities present themselves.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Calling at the Banks mansion was a perfectly logical thing to do. After all, Mrs. Rushton might be a suspect.”

“A suspect? Mrs. Rushton?”

“You are the one who has pointed out on more than one occasion that heirs sometimes grow impatient.” Triumph blazed in her eyes. “Furthermore, if she is not a suspect, she may well be a potential client. After all, as a victim of theft, she has a great interest in recovering the Medusa. She may be persuaded to pay us a fee to find it for her.”

He could not quarrel with her logic, he thought. But that did nothing to improve his temper.

“Did you speak to Mrs. Rushton?” he asked.

“No. She was out for the afternoon.”

“I see.” He relaxed slightly.

“Taking her weekly mesmeric treatment,” Lavinia added very deliberately. “It seems the lady suffers from delicate nerves.”

He could see that she was extremely pleased with herself. “The news that Mrs. Rushton is taking treatments from a mesmerist is your big surprise?”

Her delight faded to a disgruntled expression. “You must admit that it is a striking connection.”

“Lavinia, half of London takes mesmeric treatments for nerves or rheumatism.”

“Not half.” She glared. “You must admit that there is more than a mere hint of a coincidence here. Our case involves a dead woman who was intimately associated with the practice of mesmerism, and now we have a possible suspect who takes mesmeric treatments. I intend to investigate Mrs. Rushton more closely.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

He gripped the edge of the terrace wall while he contemplated the possibilities.

“I will accompany you,” he said finally.

“Thank you, but that is not necessary.” She gave a disdainful little sniff. “I can handle this by myself.”

“I have no doubt of that, madam.” He smiled coldly. “But I cannot resist the opportunity to watch you at work. Perhaps you are right. I may have been overlooking your contributions to this partnership. It is time I paid attention to see if I can learn a few things from you.”