Don't Look Back by Amanda Quick
“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.”
Twenty-six
SHE COULD SEE AT ONCE THAT HE WAS NOT pleased, but she chose to ig nore 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 pul
“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?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” She was not certain what to say to that. She thought she ought to berate him for not telling her that he was conducting inquiries in that direction. On the other hand, he had been concerned on her behalf. She would save the lecture for later, she decided. “I assume that you learned nothing that was alarming.”
“I must admit I have begun to worry a bit about Maggie. Women who get close to Pelling seem to meet with bad ends, and Anthony had a deal of trouble locating her.”
She shuddered. “I understand.”
“I want to satisfy myself that she is unharmed. I also want to ask her a few questions about Pelling’s activities here in Town.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “But he has made no move to seek me out. Indeed, why would he? I told you, at the time he found it convenient to blame me for his wife’s supposed suicide. He cannot possibly have any interest in me now. Indeed, he has every reason to avoid me.”
“I know. But I do not like the situation.”
She smiled slightly. “I can see that.”
Tobias looked out at the fog-bound street. “That is the damnable thing about this business of conducting investigations, you see. One must keep blundering about, asking questions, until one finally gets some answers.”
“Not unlike our own relationship, if you ask me,” she said under her breath.
He turned his head. “What did you say?”
“Nothing important. Just some personal musings.”
She managed a bright little smile, but inwardly she was not feeling nearly so blasé. Their relationship was such a strange affair, she thought. Neither of them was a coward, yet in this matter they both walked as gingerly as if they were trying to cross a perilous landscape, a world in which unseen dangers lurked in every shadow.
Then again, perhaps that was only her view of the situation, she thought. For all she knew, Tobias saw nothing complicated or worrisome about their arrangement. He was a man, after all. In her experience, men tended to assess matters involving emotion in a more straightforward fashion than women did. When all was said and done, although he occasionally complained of the venue, Tobias was getting a certain amount of physical satisfaction on a regular basis. Mayhap that was enough for him.
They traveled the remainder of the distance to Cutt Lane in silence. When the hackney finally halted, Lavinia looked out and saw a solitary gas lamp glowing in front of a darkened doorway. Candles burned in some of the windows. Here and there a figure moved behind a thin curtain.
Tobias opened the door and got out. He reached up, gripped Lavinia around the waist, and lifted her out of the cab. Then he turned to toss a few coins to the coachman.
“We will not be long,” he said. “Be so good as to wait for us.”
“Aye.” The coachman checked the coins in the lantern light. Evidently satisfied, he pocketed them swiftly. “I’ll be here when yer ready to leave, sir.”
“Come.” Tobias took Lavinia’s arm and steered her toward the dark mouth of a small lane. “The sooner we find Maggie, the sooner we can return to the ball.”
She did not argue. She draped the blanket around her shoulders as if it were a fine Indian shawl and went forward at his side.
More candles and the occasional lantern burned in the windows of the tiny lane. Tobias stepped into the shelter of a stone doorway and clanged the knocker. The sound echoed eerily in the darkness.
There was no response, but Lavinia heard a window open on the floor above. She looked up and saw a woman leaning out, a candle set in a heavy iron candlestick in her hand. The light from the small flame illuminated sharp features and eyes that appeared to be sunk in deep wells.
The woman wore a dressing gown that was only loosely tied. The garment gaped, exposing her bony shoulders and thin breasts to the damp night and the casual view of passersby in the lane below.
“You down there,” the prostitute called in a drunken voice, “are ye lookin’ for some sport tonight?”
Tobias took a step back out of the doorway.
“We’re looking for Maggie,” he said.
“Well, now, yer in luck, then, because you’ve found her.” Maggie leaned precariously out over the sill. “But I see there’s two of ye, and yer friend is a lady. I take it yer one of those what likes to watch two women enjoyin’ themselves, eh? That’ll be extra.”
“We just want to talk to you,” Lavinia said quickly. “And, of course, we’ll pay you for your time.”
“Talk, eh?” Maggie considered that for a moment and then shrugged. “Well, so long as yer willin’ to pay, it don’t make much difference to me. Come on up. First room at the top of the stairs.”
Tobias tried the door. It opened readily. Lavinia peered around his shoulder and saw a narrow hall and a cramped staircase lit by a single, smoky candle set in a wall sconce.
“Try to resist the temptation to overpay her,” Tobias said. “Especially since we will no doubt be using my money.”
“Of course we must use your money. I did not bring any of my own with me tonight. A lady never takes money to a grand ball.”
“Somehow that does not surprise me.”
He ushered her into the hall and followed on her heels, pausing only to shut the door.
Two men dressed in rough clothing rushed into the hall.
They went directly for Tobias. The light of the wall sconce gleamed evilly on the blades of their knives.
“Tobias. Behind you.”
He did not reply. He was too busy responding to the attack. She saw him grip the banister with one hand and use it to brace himself. He lashed out with one booted foot.
The blow struck home, catching the first man squarely in the chest. The villain sucked in air and staggered back, colliding with his companion.
“Get out of my way, ye bloody fool.” The second man shoved his companion aside and flung himself at Tobias. His arm moved in a short, vicious arc. The blade slashed through the air.
Tobias kicked out again. The second man hissed like a snake and darted backward to avoid the boot. He had to catch himself on the banister.
“Go into Maggie’s room,” Tobias ordered without taking his attention off the two men. “Bolt the door.”
He launched himself toward the closest villain. The two came together with a sickening thud and landed at the foot of the staircase. They rolled across the floor and slammed into the wall.
The door at the top of the stairs banged open. Maggie appeared, the iron candlestick in her hand.
“What’s going on down there?” she demanded in a slurred voice. “See here, I don’t want any trouble.”
Lavinia flung aside the blanket, collected her skirts, and dashed up the stairs to the landing.
“Give me that candlestick.” She yanked it out of Maggie’s hand.
“What are ye doin?” Maggie demanded.
“Oh, for pity’s sake.” Lavinia pulled the dripping tallow candle off the prong and shoved it into Maggie’s fingers.
“Ouch,” Maggie muttered. She held her finger to her mouth. “That burns, it does.”
Lavinia ignored her and flew back down the stairs, the iron candlestick clutched in her right hand.
She could see Tobias and the second villain writhing on the floor of the hall. Light danced on the blade.