Don’t Look Back

Chapter Twenty-five

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.”