Don't Look Back by Amanda Quick


  “You mentioned that you suffer from delicate nerves and that you are prone to bouts of female hysteria.”

  “Yes.”

  “When I called yesterday afternoon, your housekeeper remarked that you take regular treatments from a mesmerist.”

  “Indeed,” Mrs. Rushton said. A glow of enthusiasm blazed in her eyes. “Dr. G. A. Darfield. He is excellent, I must say.”

  Lavinia recalled one of the advertisements she had studied. “I saw a notice of his services in a newspaper. He claims to be especially skilled at alleviating the symptoms associated with female hysteria in married women and widows.”

  “I can assure you that I have consulted with many doctors and various types of medical practitioners over the years, but I have never had such amazing results as those I have obtained from Dr. Darfield’s therapies. I cannot begin to describe the marvelous sense of relief and well-being that descends upon me following a session with him.”

  “May I ask if you ever consulted Dr. Howard Hudson?” Lavinia asked, holding her breath.

  “Hudson?” Mrs. Rushton’s brows snapped together above her long nose. “Hudson? No. I have never even heard of him. Does he treat cases such as mine?”

  Bloody hell, Lavinia thought. She had been convinced that she would uncover a link between Mrs. Rushton and Celeste Hudson.

  “Dr. Hudson’s wife was the lady who was murdered,” Tobias said. “We have reason to believe that she may have been involved with the theft of the bracelet.”

  “Dear heaven.” Mrs. Rushton touched her bosom again. “This entire affair is becoming odder at every turn.” She gave Tobias a melting glance. “I am relieved to know that a gentleman of your obviously vigorous physique is investigating, Mr. March.”

  Lavinia cleared her throat. “I am also investigating the case. I assure you, I am every bit as vigorous as Mr. March.”

  LAVINIA WENT STRAIGHT TO THE SHERRY cabinet the moment she walked into her study. She poured two glasses, handed one to Tobias, and then threw herself down into her favorite chair.

  She propped her ankles on the hassock and watched Tobias crouch carefully to light the fire. He seemed to move without obvious discomfort today, she thought, no doubt because the sun was out.

  “Damnation,” she said. “I was so certain that we would uncover a connection between Mrs. Rushton and Celeste Hudson.”

  “That would have been much too convenient.” Tobias gripped the mantel and used it to haul himself to his feet. He took a long swallow of sherry. “This case does not lend itself to simple answers. But look on the bright side. We have got another client.”

  “Thanks to me.”

  “Indeed.” He raised his glass in a mocking salute. “You did very well.”

  “Mmm.” She sipped sherry. “Unfortunately, I am forced to conclude that, although approaching Mrs. Rushton was my idea, it was the sight of your obviously vigorous physique that secured us the commission.”

  “I am delighted to know that I was able to contribute in some small way.”

  “Not small,” she mumbled into the glass.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I believe Mrs. Rushton was persuaded to employ us because she has concluded that the portion of your obviously vigorous physique that interests her is most assuredly not small.”

  He grinned. “You’re jealous.”

  “The woman is a female version of a lecherous rake. She reminds me of my former employer, Mrs. Underwood.”

  “The lady’s sexual proclivities aside, the fact that she hired us to find the Medusa would seem to settle the question of whether or not she might have been involved in the theft.”

  “So it would appear.”

  “Come now, Lavinia, you saw her face when she returned from checking to see if the bracelet was missing. It was obvious that until that moment she had no notion that it was gone.”

  “I suppose it’s possible that she is a very fine actress.” Lavinia leaned her head back against the cushion. “But I’m inclined to agree with you. My intuition tells me that she was not pretending her response. She truly was stunned by the loss of the bracelet.”

  “Yes.” Tobias wandered over to the window and stood looking out into the small garden. “Now all we have to do is find the bloody Medusa and the killer and we can collect fees from a number of different clients. I must admit, I was not at all enthused about this case at the start, but it is beginning to show some potential for profit at last.”

  “What do you suggest we do next?”

  “Mrs. Rushton believes that she has the only key to the safe in Banks’s dressing room, but she did not take up residence in the household until a few months ago. It’s quite possible that the servants know more than she realizes. Some of them would have had access to those keys for years.”

  “Do you think it would be a good idea to interview them?”

  “It certainly cannot hurt. But the Banks household staff is large. It will take hours to talk to all of them. I believe that I shall set Anthony to the task. It will be fine training for him.”

  “Emeline can accompany him. As I told you, she has a certain talent for charming answers out of people.”

  “As does Anthony. I believe they will make an excellent team. If nothing else, the business is bound to be exceedingly boring. Perhaps it will discourage both of them from pressing on with careers in this line.”

  Lavinia sighed. “Do not pin your hopes on that strategy, sir.”

  He turned around slowly and gave her a wry smile. “You are right. One long morning of dull interviews is not likely to put either of them off, is it?”

  “No. Meanwhile, what shall I tell Howard? To be honest, I am worried about his state of mind, Tobias. He is quite distraught.”

  “Why don’t you advise him to seek treatment for his weak nerves?”

  “That is not at all amusing, sir.”

  “Wasn’t meant to be.”

  She eyed him closely. “You really do not care overmuch for Howard, do you?”

  “I think the man very likely murdered his wife in a fit of jealous rage,” Tobias said shortly. “No, I cannot say that I am fond of him.”

  “I would remind you that you are quite free to quit this case.”

  “That is impossible and well you know it.” He came to stand over her, gripped the arms of her chair, and leaned down to put his face very close to hers. “I cannot walk away from it as long as you insist upon being involved in the affair.”

  The cold, grim determination in his eyes sent an unaccountable shiver through her. “Why are you so suspicious of Howard? You have no evidence to indicate that he murdered Celeste.”

  “I may lack the evidence to support my belief, but I am very sure that your old family friend has ulterior motives in this affair. I am certain that he has no interest in avenging his dead wife. He is using you to help him find that damned bracelet.”

  “Rubbish. You took a strong dislike to Howard even before Celeste was murdered. Admit it.”

  “Very well, I admit it. I did not like the man one damned bit before his wife turned up dead, and I trust him even less now.”

  “I knew it. I could see it in your eyes that first day when I walked into the parlor and found you with him. But for the life of me, I cannot comprehend such instant dislike on your part. What on earth set you so strongly against him right from the start?”

  For an instant she thought he would not answer. She was aware of his powerful hands tightening around the arms of her chair. The fierce planes and angles of his face looked as if they had been hewn from stone. There was an implacable, immovable, unalterable quality about him that, in another man, would have sent a shock of dread through her.

  But this was Tobias. She knew that he could be dangerous, but never toward her. The only threat he represented to her was the one aimed at her heart.

  “Hudson wants you,” Tobias said.

  She stared at him in disbelief. “I beg your pardon?”

  “He wants you.”<
br />
  “Are you mad? Good heavens, sir, the man is an old family friend. I grew up thinking of him as a . . . a sort of uncle. I’m sure he thinks of me as a niece.”

  “None of that changes the fact that he wants you.”

  “But he never . . . I never . . . I mean, there was nothing—” She broke off, sputtering, and made a bid to collect herself. “I assure you, Howard never gave any indication that he was interested in me in that way. He never said a word to me. As a matter of fact he attended my wedding and wished me happiness. I have no reason to doubt that he meant it.”

  “Perhaps he did at the time. Perhaps something changed when he saw you again.”

  “Tobias—”

  “Between men, some things do not need explanation or interpretation. Hudson wants you.”

  “Really, sir.”

  “Yes, really.” Tobias unclamped his hands from around the chair arms and straightened. He went back to the window and returned his attention to the garden. “He desires you intensely.”

  Now that he was no longer bending over her, she was finally able to catch her breath. But his absolute assurance on the point he was attempting to drive home had rattled her.

  “You say that between men some things do not require explanation or interpretation,” she said very steadily. “The same is true between men and women.”

  “What the devil do you mean by that?”

  She drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair and tried to find the right words. “A woman usually knows when a man is attracted to her. She may not know his heart, let alone whether or not he is in love with her, but she knows when he feels a physical passion for her. Such things are not easy to hide.”

  “Your point, madam?”

  “If Howard wants me, it is not because he has conceived an overwhelming romantical passion for my person,” she said dryly. “I would know if that were the case.”

  Tobias turned back to face her, his mouth quirked in cold amusement. “You are sure of that?”

  “Absolutely certain.”

  “I do not share your certainty. But say for the sake of argument that you are correct. That leaves us with a very interesting question.”

  “What question is that?”

  “If he does not desire to have you in his bed, why does he want you?”

  “Tobias, you are the most incredibly stubborn man I have ever met.”

  He ignored that. “Because I assure you, madam, Hudson most definitely wants you.”

  Fifteen

  TOBIAS WALKED INTO THE CHEERFUL LITTLE breakfast room with what had lately become a familiar sense of satisfaction and anticipation. Outside, a light, misty rain was falling, but in here all was warm and cozy. The enticing aromas of hot coffee, eggs, and freshly baked muffins swirled in the air.

  Emeline gave him her warm, gracious smile. “Good morning, sir. How nice to see you.”

  “Miss Emeline.”

  Her smile dimmed only slightly when she looked past him into the empty hall. “Oh, I see Mr. Sinclair did not accompany you.”

  “He will be along in an hour to fetch you so that the two of you may start your inquiries at the Banks mansion.” He turned to Lavinia. “Good morning, madam.”

  Lavinia looked up from the morning paper, a decidedly frosty expression in her vivid eyes. She was dressed in a rich, dark purple-red gown that framed her elegant neck in a dainty little ruff. Her red hair was bound up in a stylish knot at the back of her nicely shaped head and set off with a lacy cap. He thought about making love to her in the Stillwaters’ conservatory and how it had felt when she had come undone in his arms. The memories heated his blood. He wondered if he would ever grow accustomed to the effect she had on him.

  He smiled. “I vow, your eyes resemble emerald seas in the morning sun.”

  “It is raining, in case you had not noticed, sir.”

  Emeline gave Lavinia a troubled frown. “Aunt Lavinia, there’s no need to be rude. Mr. March paid you a very pretty compliment.”

  “No, he did not.” Lavinia turned the page in her paper. “The remark about my eyes was just another part of a diabolical experiment he is attempting to perform on me.”

  Emeline was clearly baffled. “An experiment?”

  “Mr. March thinks to employ charm in an effort to influence me so that I will take his instructions and orders in regard to my business affairs.”

  Emeline switched her bemused eyes to Tobias, silently seeking clarification.

  He pulled out a chair and winked at her. “As you can see from her gracious, welcoming manner, my cunning plan is working. She is soft clay in my hands.” He reached for the coffeepot.

  Lavinia folded the paper with a crisp snap. “We do not generally expect callers at breakfast, you know.”

  “I’m amazed to hear you say that.” He slathered butter on a muffin. “I have joined you for breakfast on several occasions of late. One would have thought that you would have grown accustomed to the sight of me at your table at this hour. Mrs. Chilton certainly has. I’ve noticed that she has begun making extra servings of everything.”

  “Indeed. And I have noticed the cost of those extra servings. They have begun making a dent in the household accounts.”

  “Larder and pantry getting a bit bare?” He helped himself to a large spoonful of currant jam. “Don’t fret. I shall have Whitby send over some supplies.”

  “That is not the point,” Lavinia said.

  He took a mouthful of muffin. “Why raise the issue if it is not the point?”

  Emeline chuckled. “My aunt is in an ill temper this morning, sir. Do not pay her any heed.”

  “Thank you for alerting me to her foul mood.” He swallowed the bite of muffin. “I might have missed it altogether if you had not called it to my attention.”

  Lavinia rolled her eyes and went back to reading the paper.

  “Never mind,” Emeline said quickly. “Please tell me more about the inquiries Anthony and I are to conduct today.”

  “Mrs. Rushton has agreed to allow you to question the members of her household staff,” he said. “We wish to ascertain whether any of them might have had access to the key to the safe in Banks’s dressing room.”

  “I see. You believe that one of them might have been involved in the theft of the bracelet?”

  “It is a possibility that must be ruled out. But you and Anthony will need to be subtle in your questioning. None of the servants is likely to simply announce that he knows something about the affair.”

  “No, of course not.” Emeline’s enthusiasm for the project vibrated in her voice. “Anthony and I will be very cautious and circumspect.”

  “Remember to make notes, even if the details you learn do not sound as if they would be important. Sometimes the smallest point proves to be crucial to the solution.”

  “I shall keep very complete notes,” Emeline assured him.

  Tobias looked at Lavinia. “What are your plans for the day, madam?”

  “I have a few errands to see to this afternoon,” Lavinia said with a vague air as she continued to read her newspaper. “I thought that I would call upon Mrs. Dove to find out if she has had any new thoughts on the case. What about you, sir?”

  “I intend to consult with Crackenburne and Smiling Jack again,” he said. He could be vague, too, he thought.

  She nodded without looking up. “An excellent plan.”

  No doubt about it, he thought. Lavinia had concocted some private scheme she intended to carry out today. He knew the signs all too well.

  The great difficulty in conducting an investigation with Lavinia was that he was obliged to spend nearly as much time keeping an eye on her as he did searching for answers for the client.

  THE DARK GREEN DOOR OPENED JUST AS LAVINIA started up the steps. A woman emerged from the front hall of Dr. Darfield’s rooms. Her cheeks were flushed with the pink glow of good health and there was a cheerful expression in her lively eyes.

  “Good day.” The lady bestowed a friendly sm
ile on Lavinia as she swept past. “Lovely weather, is it not?”

  “Very nice,” Lavinia murmured.

  The lady set off with an energetic stride, a living tribute to the skills of Dr. Darfield. Lavinia watched her for a moment, thinking of Mrs. Rushton’s enthusiasm for the treatments she received from the mesmerist.

  Obviously the good doctor inspired a very positive reaction in his patients.

  She continued up the steps and clanged the knocker, still not certain what had induced this urge to pay a call on Mrs. Rushton’s mesmerist today. Perhaps it had something to do with the great disappointment she had endured yesterday. She had been so certain that Mrs. Rushton’s interest in the mesmeric therapies constituted a link with Celeste. It was very hard to give up the notion that she had come across a clue.

  The door opened almost at once. A very handsome young man smiled at her. He was fashionably dressed in a brown velvet coat, yellow waistcoat, pleated trousers, and an intricately tied cravat. His blond hair had been ruthlessly attacked by a curling iron. Artfully arranged curls fell forward over his eyes in a seemingly careless style that had no doubt required a great deal of time in front of a mirror.

  “Good day, sir. I wish to consult with Dr. Darfield.”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, I’m afraid not.” She stepped quickly into the hall and turned to smile at him before he could figure out how to politely close the door in her face. “My case of bad nerves came upon me quite suddenly this morning and I cannot wait for professional assistance. I fear that if I do not get help immediately, I may have an attack of female hysteria. I am hoping that you will be able to fit me into Dr. Darfield’s schedule.”

  The young man looked deeply troubled. “I’m so sorry, but Dr. Darfield is very busy today. Perhaps you could come back tomorrow?”

  “I’m afraid I really must see him now. My nerves are in the most dreadful condition. They are very delicate.”

  “I understand, but—”

  She recalled the details of Dr. Darfield’s advertisement, with its emphasis on widows and married ladies. “I have been a widow for some time and I fear that the strain of being alone in the world has taken its toll.” She patted her reticule. “I am, of course, prepared to pay a bit extra for the inconvenience to Dr. Darfield’s schedule.”

 
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