Don’t Look Back

Chapter Four

The small group of eager young gallants that had encircled Emeline on the front steps of the institute made Anthony uneasy. They all professed a great interest in discussing the lecture they had just attended, but he suspected most of them had ulterior motives. Emeline, however, appeared unaware of that possibility. She was busily holding forth with her opinion of the talk.

“I fear that Mr. Lexington has not spent much time, if any, in Italy,” Emeline declared. “He gave a very poor description of Roman monuments and fountains. As it happens, my aunt and I had an opportunity to spend some time in that city recently, and I-”

“That no doubt accounts for your brilliant sense of fashion,” one gentleman declared fervently. “I vow, that gown you are wearing is a most exquisite shade of amber gold. The color of the sky at sunset. It is surpassed only by the brilliant glow of your eyes, Miss Emeline.”

There were several murmurs of agreement.

Emeline never faltered. “Thank you, sir. Now, as I was saying, my aunt and I were fortunate enough to be able to stay for some months in Rome, and I can assure you, Mr. Lexington did not do justice to his subject. He failed to convey the true elegance of the standing monuments. As it happens, while in Italy, I was able to make several sketches and some drawings-”

“I would very much enjoy viewing your sketches, Miss Emeline,” said a voice at the edge of the crowd.

“As would I, Miss Emeline.”

“No monument, no matter how spectacular, could compare to your own elegance, Miss Emeline,” someone else vouchsafed.

He’d had quite enough, Anthony thought. He made a show of removing his watch from his pocket. “I’m afraid I must interrupt, Miss Emeline. The hour grows late. I promised your aunt that you would be home by five o’clock. We will have to hurry.”

“Yes, of course.” Emeline bestowed a charming smile on the small group. “Mr. Sinclair is quite correct. We must be off. But I have very much enjoyed our conversation. It is quite amazing, really. I had no notion that so many of you were interested in Roman fountains and monuments.”

“Fascinated, Miss Emeline.” A gentleman dressed in a coat that was cut so snugly Anthony wondered how he could move his arms swept her a deep bow. “I assure you, I am absolutely entranced by the subject and by your remarks on it.”

“Transfixed,” another assured her.

That started a heated competition in which every man in the group sought to convince Emeline that his own intellectual interests were more elevated than those of anyone else in the crowd.

It was all Anthony could do to avoid baring his teeth. He tucked Emeline’s arm in his and drew her swiftly down the steps. A chorus of farewells drifted after them.

“I did not realize that we were so pressed for time,” Emeline murmured.

“Have no fear,” Anthony said. “We will be home before your aunt begins to fret.”

“What did you think of Mr. Lexington’s lecture?” she asked.

He hesitated and then shrugged. “To be perfectly blunt, I found it quite dull.”

She gave her warm laugh. “We are in agreement on that point. Nevertheless, I very much enjoyed the afternoon.”

“As did I.”

He would have enjoyed it far more, he thought, had he not been obliged to wade through the herd of dandies gathered inside the lecture hall. He was quite certain they had not been drawn there by an interest in Roman monuments and fountains. Emeline was the lure. She had come into a mild sort of fashion lately after a number of successful appearances in some of the most important ballrooms of the ton.

He was well aware that Emeline’s lack of an inheritance and family connections would not allow her to swim in exalted social circles for long, in spite of Lavinia’s machinations. Furthermore, prudent matchmaking mamas would work hard to ensure that their sons did not look too seriously in Emeline’s direction.

Unfortunately, that did not prevent many of the young bloods of Society from being intrigued by a lovely and unusual Original. Nor would it stop heartless rakes and debauchers from attempting to seduce her as a form of perverted sport.

He had appointed himself Emeline’s guardian, and he considered it his duty to protect her from unwanted attentions. But what worried him the most these days was that she might decide to sample some of those attentions.

It would all be so much simpler if he was in a position to declare his affections and make an offer for her hand. But the long and the short of it was that he could not afford to keep her in the style to which she deserved to become accustomed.

He had spent a great deal of time lately pondering his problems and concocting various possible solutions. It all came down to one key point: He had to find a way to make a decent living and he had to do so quickly, before one of the men hanging around Emeline defied his parents and convinced her to run off with him.

The walk home to the little house in Claremont Lane was a brisk one, due not only to the fact that the afternoon was coming to a close but because the threat of rain dampened the air.

“Is something wrong?” Emeline asked when they reached the little park and turned the corner. “Are you ill?”

That startled him out of his reverie. It annoyed him that she thought him sickly. “No, I am not ill. I am thinking.”

“Oh. I thought, perhaps, from your expression that the ice cream we had earlier did not sit well.”

“I assure you, I am in excellent health, Emeline.”

“I was merely concerned.”

“Emeline, your aunt has made it clear that she wishes you to enjoy another Season before you even think of accepting an offer of marriage.”

“What on earth does marriage have to do with this?”

He braced himself. “It is quite likely that at any moment one of those… those gentlemen who accosted you after the lecture today might decide to offer for your hand.”

“Oh, I doubt that. None of their mamas or papas would approve. They can all look a good deal higher for wives, and I’m sure they will do precisely that when the time comes.”

“It is not unheard of for a reckless man to… to elope with someone whom his parents might not deem suitable,” Anthony said darkly.

“As gentlemen are forever doing in those books of poetry that Aunt Lavinia loves to read?” Emeline chuckled. “How very romantic. But I very much doubt that I am the type to inspire a runaway marriage.”

“You are precisely the type.” Anthony came to a sudden halt and turned to face her. “You must be on your guard, Emeline. There is no telling when some rake may show up at your bedroom window in the middle of the night and beg you to join him in the carriage he has waiting in the street.” Just as he had envisioned himself doing in certain fevered fantasies, he thought.

“A Gretna Green marriage?” Emeline’s eyes widened. “Nonsense. I cannot imagine any of those gentlemen having the spirit to do anything so thrilling.”

Anthony felt his stomach clench. “You mean that you would consider it exciting to run off with one of those empty-headed dandies?”

“Yes, indeed.”

His blood ran cold.

And then she smiled. “Quite impossible, of course.”

“Impossible.” He seized on that. “Yes, of course. Absolutely impossible.”

“Indeed.”

But it was not impossible and well he knew it. It had happened on at least one occasion last Season that he was aware of, and it would no doubt happen again this Season. Sooner or later, a young couple who had been forbidden to wed would run off to Gretna Green in the middle of the night. If their frantic papas did not catch up with them before the deed was done, the pair would return as newlyweds. Their parents would be forced to accept the fait accompli. And Society would have yet another tidbit of gossip to savor over tea.

If he had an ounce of common sense he would keep silent, Anthony thought. Instead, he cleared his throat.

“Uh, why precisely do you say it would be impossible to make a runaway marriage with one of those gentlemen?” he asked carefully.

“Because I am not in love with any of them, of course.” She glanced at the tiny watch pinned to the front of her pelisse. “Come along, Anthony, we must hurry. We do not want to get caught in the rain. Aunt Lavinia will have an attack of the vapors if I ruin this new gown.”

She was not in love with any of them.

It did not follow, he reminded himself, that she loved him, but at least she had not developed a tendre for anyone else.

His spirits revived miraculously. He grinned. “Calm yourself, Emeline. Any lady who can take Tobias on as a business partner is hardly likely to faint dead away at the notion of a ruined gown.”

Emeline laughed. “You do not know how much stock Aunt Lavinia places in Madam Francesca’s gowns. She considers them investments.”

Unfortunately, he knew precisely why Lavinia was investing heavily in gowns from the exclusive dressmaker these days, he thought. She still entertained visions of marrying Emeline off into the ton.

Halfway along Claremont Lane, he saw Tobias and Lavinia going up the front steps of Number 7.

“It looks as though we are not the only ones who are late arriving home today,” Emeline said cheerfully. “Lavinia and Mr. March must have gone out for some exercise.”

Anthony studied Tobias lounging against the iron railing while he waited for Lavinia to retrieve her key from her reticule. Even from this distance he could detect his brother-in-law’s air of deep satisfaction. Tobias looked very much like a large beast relaxing after a successful hunt.

“A rather lively bit of exercise, if I am not mistaken,” Anthony muttered.

“I beg your pardon?” She gave him a curious look.

Fortunately he did not have to come up with an explanation for the remark. At that moment Tobias turned his head and saw them coming toward the steps.

“Good afternoon, Miss Emeline.” Tobias nodded at her. “How was the lecture?”

“Not as learned as one might have hoped, but Anthony and I had a pleasant day nonetheless,” Emeline said easily.

Mrs. Chilton got the door open just as Lavinia found her key.

“Would you care to come in for some tea?” Lavinia asked Anthony.

“Thank you, no.” He looked pointedly at Tobias. “I wish to speak with you, if you don’t mind.”

Tobias elevated one brow and straightened away from the iron railing. “Can it wait?”

“I’m afraid not. It is a matter of some importance.”

“Very well. We can discuss it on the way to my club.” Tobias turned to Lavinia. “I will bid you good day, madam.”

“Good day, sir.”

Anthony was somewhat surprised by the uncharacteristically soft nature of her farewell, but Tobias did not appear to find it odd.

They waited until the ladies were safely inside their own front hall before heading toward the corner to find a hackney. They managed to hail a carriage without difficulty and got into the cab. Tobias settled onto one of the seats and gave Anthony a considering look.

“Is there something amiss? You look as if you have swallowed a spoonful of unpleasant medicine.”

This was the second time in the past hour that someone had assumed him to be ill from his expression, he realized. It was annoying.

“I am in need of a fortune,” he announced.

“Aren’t we all?” Tobias stretched out his left leg. “If you find one, let me know. I will be delighted to share it with you.”

“I am serious. I wish to acquire a sum of money that will enable me to support a wife in a proper style.”

“Bloody hell.” Tobias met his eyes. “You’re in love with Miss Emeline, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Damnation, I was afraid of this. Have you declared your affections to her?”

“Of course not. I am in no position to do so, because I cannot ask her to marry me.”

Tobias nodded in resigned comprehension. “Because you lack a fortune.”

Anthony drummed his fingers on the window ledge. “I have been giving the matter some thought.”

“Lord save us from young men who think too much.”

“I am very determined about this.”

“Yes, I can see that. I collect that you have concocted a plan to acquire this fortune you feel you need?”

“I have a good head for cards. With a bit of practice-”

“No.”

“Granted, I have never played them for high stakes because you have always been so opposed to the notion of gambling, but I believe that I could do quite well at the tables.”

“No.”

“Hear me out.” Anthony leaned forward, intent on pressing his point. “The vast majority of gamesters do not approach their play in a logical manner. Indeed, they usually sit down to their cards after they are well into their cups. It is no wonder that most gentlemen lose heavily. I, however, intend to treat gaming from the standpoint of a mathematical problem.”

“Your sister would come back to haunt me if I were to allow you to go into the hells. You know as well as I do that her greatest fear was that you would become a gamester.”

“I know that Ann feared I would end up destitute, as our father did. But I assure you, that would not be the case.”

“Hell’s teeth, it is not the fact that your father lost everything he possessed because he could not resist the damned gaming tables that worried her so greatly. It is that he got himself killed over a disputed hand of cards while trying to recover his losses. In the long run, there is no winning in that career.”

“I am not my father.”

“I know that.”

Anthony stiffened. He had dreaded this conflict, well aware from the moment he had hatched his scheme that it loomed in front of him. The strategy was complicated, but he told himself he had to stick with it.

“I do not wish to argue with you over this matter,” he said. “We both know that you cannot stop me. I am no longer a boy. This is my decision to make.”

Tobias’s eyes darkened to the shade of a storm at sea. In all the years he had lived with this man who had been more of a father to him than his own parent, Anthony thought, he had rarely seen such cold and implacable promise in his gaze. A chill went through him.

“Let us be clear on this,” Tobias said in his softest, most dangerous voice. “If you insist upon going into the hells, you can expect the devil’s own quarrel with me. You may believe that I cannot stop you, but you can count on finding me in your path every time you turn around. I have an obligation to Ann’s memory. Do not think that I will ignore my promise to her.”

He had known this would be difficult, Anthony reminded himself. He drew a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.

“I have no wish to be at odds with you over this,” he said. “You know full well that I respect you and your loyalty to your oath. But I am quite desperate and I do not see that I have any great choice in the matter.”

Instead of launching into another lecture, Tobias turned his attention to the darkening street outside the window. He sank into a deep, brooding silence.

Anthony endured it as long as he could. Then he made a stab at trying to lighten the grim atmosphere inside the carriage.

“Tobias? Do you intend to cease speaking to me altogether?” He forced a small smile. “That is not like you. I expected something a bit more forceful. A threat to cut off my quarterly allowance, such as it is, perhaps.”

“I told you a moment ago that you are not the only one who would very much like to get his hands on a fortune.”

Anthony was bemused by the sudden change in the direction of the discussion. “I assumed you were joking.”

“I assure you, I am not joking.”

Comprehension struck with the force of summer lightning. “Good God, this is about Mrs. Lake, is it not? Are you thinking of asking her to marry you?”

Tobias turned his head very slightly. “I am in no more of a position to ask her to marry me than you are in a position to ask Miss Emeline for her hand.”

He would never get a better opening, Anthony thought. It was time to shift to the second phase of his carefully calculated plan.

“On the contrary,” he said smoothly. “You are not in such dire straits. In fact, I envy you. After all, it is not as if you are totally lacking in resources. You make fat commissions from time to time in the course of your career as an investigator.”

“My profession is a highly erratic and unpredictable means of making a living, and well you know it.”

“Mrs. Dove certainly paid you handsomely for the inquiries you made on her behalf in the affair of the waxwork murders. You came away with sufficient funds to enable you to invest in one of Crackenburne’s ships, did you not?”

“I was able to afford only a single share in that venture. Furthermore, I will have no way of knowing whether or not it will be successful, let alone to what extent, until the bloody ship returns from the East. That will not happen for several months.”

“And in the meantime, you must bide your time and hope that Mrs. Lake does not get swept off her feet by some other gentleman who can afford to support a wife,” Anthony said.

“As you can see, I am not unsympathetic to your plight.”

Anthony shrugged. “If it is any comfort, I very much doubt that Mrs. Lake would ever marry for money.”

Tobias said nothing. He went back to gazing out the window.

“Emeline has discussed her aunt’s feelings on the subject of marriage with me,” Anthony said.

That information got Tobias’s attention. “What did Miss Emeline tell you?”

“She is quite certain that, although Mrs. Lake is always going on about the importance of finances, she secretly possesses a deeply romantic nature.”

“Lavinia? Romantic? Where in Hades did Emeline get that notion?”

“I expect it is Mrs. Lake’s taste for romantic poetry that gave her the notion.”

Tobias brooded on that for a moment. Then he shook his head. “Devil take it, there is no denying that Lavinia is very fond of poetry. But she is far too pragmatic to allow it to influence her personal decisions.”

Anthony sighed inwardly. He reminded himself that, while Tobias possessed any number of excellent qualities, his brother-in-law had no patience with romantic or sentimental gestures, nor had he ever bothered to hone the fine art of charming the ladies.

“Emeline seems absolutely certain that, because of her romantical sensibilities, Mrs. Lake would never be able to give herself in a loveless marriage,” he said patiently. “No matter how financially secure the arrangement promised to be.”

“Hmm.”

Tobias’s air of gloom would have been almost humorous under other circumstances, Anthony thought. But in truth, he actually felt rather sorry for his brother-in-law.

Tobias had indulged in occasional affairs in the past, Anthony reflected, but since they had lost Ann and the babe all those years ago, he had never known his brother-in-law to care enough about a lady to allow himself to be brought to this sort of impasse. The business with Mrs. Lake was serious. Tobias required guidance.

Anthony cleared his throat. “It strikes me that you would do well to take a more romantical approach with Mrs. Lake. I cannot help but notice that you seem to be quite brusque with her on occasion.”

“No doubt because she insists upon arguing with me at every turn. I have never met a more stubborn female.”

“I expect she grows weary of listening to you issue orders.”

Tobias’s jaw clenched. “Bloody hell. I can hardly be expected to transform myself into an imitation of Byron and his ilk. For one thing, I am too old to play the romantic poet. For another, I cannot write verse worth a damn.”

“I am not suggesting that you become a poet. Just that you might try the odd poetical turn of phrase.”

Tobias narrowed his eyes. “Such as?”

“Well, upon first greeting her in the morning, you could compare her to a goddess.”

“A goddess? Have you gone mad?”

“Just a suggestion.”

Tobias started to massage his left thigh. He fell silent for a long moment.

“Which goddess?” he asked eventually.

“Well, one can never go wrong likening a lady to Venus.”

“Venus. That is absolute rubbish. Lavinia would laugh in my face.”

“I don’t think so,” Anthony said softly. “I do not think that any lady would laugh at finding herself compared to Venus in the morning.”

“Huh.”

He had done all he could for the moment, Anthony thought. It was time to shift the subject back to the more pressing topic.

“If I could come up with the necessary blunt,” he said casually, “perhaps Crackenburne would allow me to purchase a share in one of his shipping ventures also.”

“You will not find the money you need for an investment in those infernal clubs where fools seek their fortunes with hazard and cards,” Tobias said. “There is a reason they call them hells.”

The somber shadows lengthened in the carriage.

Tobias’s mouth thinned. “I have told you often enough that you could make an excellent career as a man of business. You have a head for figures and details. Crackenburne would be happy to recommend you to one of his friends.”

“I have no interest in that profession.”

Silence fell.

“I do have another suggestion,” Anthony said. He was cautious now, feeling his way as he slipped closer to his ultimate goal.

Tobias looked wary. “What is it?”

“You could take me on as your assistant.”

“You already perform that function on occasion.”

“But only in the most informal manner.” Anthony warmed to his topic. The notion had been brewing in the back of his mind all afternoon. “I mean to assume a post as your official assistant. A sort of man of affairs for you, as it were. In return, you will teach me the fine points of making private inquiries and conducting investigations.”

“And what do you expect to gain?”

“An income,” Anthony said.

“Instead of an allowance, do you mean?” Tobias asked dryly.

“Precisely. And occasional bonuses would be nice.”

“Wouldn’t they, though? Nothing like an occasional bonus, I always say.”

Anthony sucked in a deep breath. “Will you at least think about my proposition?”

Tobias met his eyes. “You’re serious, are you not?”

“Never more so. I believe that I have a flair for the profession.”

“I’m not sure that there is any such thing as a flair for this line of work,” Tobias said. “In my experience, one falls into this business when other, more respectable alternatives fail to produce an income that is sufficient to keep one out of the workhouse. Rather like the career of streetwalking.”