Don't Look Back by Amanda Quick
“In spite of Mrs. Lake’s comments to the contrary, I do not think that he is merely her assistant,” she said finally. “I very much doubt that Mr. March would take orders from anyone, man or woman, unless it suited him to do so.”
“I am inclined to agree,” Howard said. “When he maintained that he was Lavinia’s occasional partner, he did so with the easy air of a man who is merely sparring with his opponent for his own entertainment.”
“Yes. He was certainly not enraged or humiliated by Mrs. Lake’s claim that he was in her employ. In fact, I gained the distinct impression that the subject of which of them is in command is something of a private joke between them.”
Which, in turn, suggested a very intimate connection indeed between Lavinia and Tobias, she thought. She had tried to test that relationship with a bit of flirting, but the results had been inconclusive. March had regarded her with those cold, unreadable eyes and given nothing away.
All in all, Tobias March was a very interesting and no doubt rather dangerous gentleman. He might well prove useful in the new future that she was planning. She would first have to lure him away from Lavinia Lake, of course, but surely that would present little challenge to her unique talents. Mrs. Lake offered little in the way of serious competition, as far as she could see.
Celeste toyed with the little fan that dangled from her reticule and smiled slightly. In her entire life she had never met a man she could not handle.
“What is it that intrigues you so about Mrs. Lake, Howard?” she asked. “I vow, if you continue to carry on like this I shall start to wonder if I ought to be jealous.”
“Never that, my dear.” He turned his head and transfixed her with the full power of his amazing eyes for a few seconds. His voice deepened. “I promise you, you command all of my passions.”
Her breath caught in her throat. This was not a rush of longing or excitement, she knew. It was fear that made her suddenly breathless. But she managed to cover the reaction with another smile and lowered lashes.
“I am relieved to hear that,” she said lightly.
She was certain that her voice sounded normal, but her pulse was still beating too heavily. With an effort of will she contrived not to clench her gloved hands.
Howard pinned her with his fascinating gaze for a moment longer. Then he smiled and looked away. “Enough of Lavinia and Mr. March. They are, indeed, an unusual pair, but their odd business is none of our concern.”
When his attention shifted back to the street scene, she drew a deep breath. It was as if she had been released from an invisible snare. She collected her scattered thoughts and steadied herself.
In spite of Howard’s seemingly casual attitude, she did not entirely trust his careless dismissal of the curiosity that had led him to inform Lavinia of his presence here in Town.
Howard was most definitely intrigued by Mrs. Lake. She told herself that she should welcome the distraction. If nothing else, his interest in his old acquaintance would serve to divert his attention at this critical juncture in her plans. Nevertheless, she had the uneasy feeling that she was missing something.
She watched him closely, studying the distant, contemplative expression on his face. It worried her. These strange periods of withdrawal and silence were becoming more frequent of late. They had begun when he had been seized with the compulsion to go beyond the mere practice of mesmerism and had plunged into extensive research of the subject.
And quite suddenly her well-honed intuitive understanding of the male sex stumbled upon the truth. She saw it all with dazzling clarity.
“You accepted Mrs. Lake’s invitation to tea because you wished to discover whether or not she had become as skilled in the practice of mesmerism as yourself,” she said quietly. “That is what this is all about, is it not? You had to know if, after all these years, she presented a challenge to your own great talents or if she had somehow learned more than you have discovered.”
Howard stiffened ever so slightly. The slight physical reaction confirmed her conclusions. He turned toward her with startling speed and she found herself plunging into the fathomless depths of his eyes.
He said nothing. But she felt as if she were frozen in her seat. She did not think she could have moved even if the carriage had burst into flames. Panic swept through her. He could not possibly know about her plans, she thought frantically. There was no way he could have uncovered her scheme. She had been very, very careful.
Howard smiled, breaking the small spell. The mesmerizing intensity of his gaze faded.
“I congratulate you, my dear,” he said. “You are, as always, most insightful. Do you know, I had not fully comprehended my own curiosity about Lavinia until I saw her today for the first time after all these years. It was only then that I realized I had, indeed, been driven to discover whether or not she had fulfilled her potential as a mesmerist. She had such an incredible natural gift for the art, you see. I recognized it years ago when she was but a young girl. I was certain that all she required was time and practice to perfect her skills.”
Celeste breathed deeply and recovered her nerve. “Did you perhaps wonder if she had surpassed even your skills, Howard?”
He hesitated. “Perhaps.”
“That would be an impossibility.” She spoke with absolute, unfeigned conviction. “There is no one more adept. Even the great Mesmer himself must be in awe of your talents.”
Howard chuckled. “I thank you for the sentiments, my dear, but under the circumstances, I fear that we are highly unlikely to discover the truth of Mr. Mesmer’s degree of admiration for my skills.”
“It is unfortunate that he died a few years ago and was never able to see you work. But I assure you that he would have been impressed. No, more likely extremely envious of you, sir. And as for Mrs. Lake, you need not concern yourself with her. She presents absolutely no challenge to you whatsoever. She has obviously chosen to ignore whatever natural aptitude she may have had in favor of another career.”
“So it would seem.” He patted her gloved hand. “You never fail to lift my spirits, my dear. I vow, I do not know what I would do without you.”
She smiled and allowed herself to relax slightly. But she dared not let down her guard entirely. The business that lay ahead of her was too important to be handled carelessly. She had taken risks before, but this affair was far and away the most dangerous scheme upon which she had ever embarked.
It would be worth it, she assured herself. If all went as planned, the profits from the venture would enable her to alter her destiny yet again. She would be in a position to move into Society and at last obtain everything that she had craved so long.
The only obstacle in her path was Howard. She must not underestimate him, she thought.
Three
“THIS HAS CERTAINLY BEEN MY DAY TO COME face-to-face with persons from my past,” Lavinia said. “First my encounter in Pall Mall, and then the visit with Howard Hudson. I hasten to assure you that the two men occupy entirely different positions in my esteem.”
They sat together on the stone bench in the artful and quite artificial Gothic ruin that Tobias had discovered years ago. The architect had no doubt intended the graceful structure, with its elegant pillars and charmingly decayed walls, to be used as a place of quiet contemplation. But he had made the mistake of situating it deep in a remote, overgrown section of the large park, and as a result, the public had never taken an interest in it. The fashionable world, after all, came to the park to see and be seen. They did not come in search of privacy and seclusion.
Tobias had come across the ruin in the course of a long walk and had adopted it as his own private retreat. Lavinia knew that she was the only other person he had ever brought here to share it with him.
He had made love to her here. The memory swept through her, stirring a volatile brew of emotions that she had never even dreamed she was capable of experiencing until she met Tobias. Nothing about her association with him was simple or straightforward, she thought. O
She did not know yet what to make of their unusual association, with its complicated mix of business and passion. But she did know that life would never again be the same now that she had formed a connection with Tobias March.
“Who was he?” Tobias asked.
She fussed for a moment with the skirts of her gown, purchasing some time to pull her thoughts together.
“It is a long story,” she said eventually.
“I am in no hurry.”
There was no delicate place to begin. And she knew Tobias well enough by now to realize that he would not give up until he had his answers. In addition to being the most infuriating and most exciting man she had ever met, he was also the most single-minded, persistent, and stubborn.
She may as well get on with the explanations. It was the only way either of them would get home before dark.
“You may recall that I mentioned an unfortunate incident in the North.”
“Yes.”
“The gentleman I glimpsed in Pall Mall this morning is connected to the incident. His name is Oscar Pelling. The reason I was late arriving home was that I was somewhat rattled by the sight of that dreadful man. I stopped in a tea shop to fortify myself and settle my nerves.”
“Tell me about this Oscar Pelling.”
“The long and the short of it is that he accused me of being responsible for his wife’s death.” She paused. “He may well be correct.”
There was a short silence while Tobias dealt with that blunt statement. He leaned forward, rested his forearms on his thighs, and loosely clasped his big hands together between his knees. He studied the tall weeds that formed a green screen around the ruin.
“He blamed your mesmeric treatments?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Ah.”
She stiffened. “Pray, what does that comment signify, sir?”
“It tells me why you gave up the profession two years ago and turned to a variety of other careers to support yourself and Emeline. You feared that you might have wrought some harm with your art.”
There was another silence. A lengthier spell this time.
Lavinia exhaled deeply. “It is no wonder you embarked upon a career in the private-inquiry business, sir. You have a distinct talent for deductive logic.”
“Tell me the whole tale,” he said.
“Oscar Pelling’s wife, Jessica, was one of my clients for a short time. She came to me for treatment of a nervous disorder.” She hesitated. “Jessica seemed a very pleasant woman. Pretty. Somewhat taller than average. Elegant. Wealthy, refined ladies of her station frequently possess very sensitive nerves. They are prone to attacks of the vapors and mild bouts of female hysteria.”
He nodded. “I’ve heard that.”
“But it was obvious at once that Jessica’s condition was much worse than I would have expected. She was, however, very reluctant to allow me to put her into a trance.”
“Why did she come to you for treatments if she did not wish to undergo a trance?”
“Perhaps because she felt that she had nowhere else to turn. She came to me only three times. On each of those occasions she was extremely agitated. In the course of the first two visits she questioned me quite closely on the precise nature of a mesmeric trance.”
“Did she fear being under someone else’s control?”
“Not exactly. Mrs. Pelling seemed more concerned with the possibility that she might unwittingly confide private, personal information in the course of the trance and not recall later just what she had said. I assured her that I would repeat to her precisely whatever words she spoke while in the trance, but I don’t think she felt entirely confident of my discretion.”
“She did not know you well.”
Lavinia smiled briefly. “Thank you for the compliment, Tobias.”
He shrugged. “It is nothing short of the truth. I would trust you with my deepest secrets. In fact, I have done so on more than one occasion.”
“And I would trust you with mine, sir.” She studied the line of his broad shoulders. Tobias could be stubborn and arrogant beyond belief, but one could entrust him with one’s life. “I believe we are even now establishing that fact.”
He nodded. “Proceed.”
“Yes, well, as I said, I got the impression that, although Jessica Pelling was extremely anxious about undergoing the experience, she also felt that she had little choice.”
“A desperate woman.”
“Yes.” Lavinia paused, recalling the events of that last session. “But not, I would have said, a despondent woman.”
Tobias glanced at her, surprise glinting in his intelligent eyes. “She was not suffering from melancholia, then?”
“I did not believe so at the time. As I said, during the first two visits we discussed the therapeutic nature of mesmerism. I described it to her as precisely as possible while she paced back and forth in front of my desk.”
Tobias unclasped his hands, straightened, and began to massage his left thigh with an absent air. “Mrs. Pelling sounds as if she was serious about seeking a cure for her nervous condition, but she no doubt distrusted the entire business of mesmerism. I can certainly comprehend the dilemma.”
“I am well aware that you have no use for the science. You believe that those who give therapeutic treatments with it are all charlatans and quacks, do you not?”
“That is not entirely true,” he said evenly. “I believe that some feeble-minded persons may be susceptible to a mesmeric trance. But I do not think that a practitioner would be able to impose his or her will on a man of my nature.”
She watched him massage his thigh and thought about the bullet he had taken in his leg several months ago. He had steadfastly refused her offer to use a mesmeric trance to ease the ache he frequently endured.
“Rubbish,” she said briskly. “The truth is that the thought of being put into a trance by me unnerves you so that you would prefer to suffer the discomfort of your wound rather than experiment with the procedure. Admit it, sir.”
“When I am around you, my dear, I always feel as though I am in a trance.”
“Bah. Do not try to fob off such uninspired compliments on me.”
“Uninspired?” He abruptly ceased rubbing his thigh. “I am crushed, madam. I thought it a rather charming riposte under the circumstances. In any event, my wound has healed quite nicely without the aid of mesmerism.”
“It pains you frequently, especially when the weather turns damp. It is giving you some trouble even as we speak, is it not?”
“I find a glass or two of brandy does wonders,” he said. “I shall have some as soon as I get home. Enough on that subject. Pray, continue with your tale.”
She switched her attention to the overgrown greenery in front of her. “When Jessica Pelling came to my rooms on the third and last occasion, I could see that she was distraught. She asked no more questions, but simply instructed me to put her directly into a therapeutic trance. I experienced no difficulty in doing so. Indeed, she was an excellent subject. I began to question her in an attempt to discover the source of her anxiety. To my great shock, she revealed that she was in mortal fear of her husband.”
“Oscar Pelling?”
“Yes.” Lavinia shuddered. “They had been wed for only a year, but she described a nightmarish existence.”
She summoned up the details of the last session with Jessica Pelling:
“. . . . Oscar is angry again tonight.” Jessica spoke with the unnatural calm of the entranced. “He says that I selected the wrong dishes for the evening meal. He claims that I did it deliberately to flout his authority as the master of the house. He tells me that I am defiant. He will have to punish me again. . . .”
Lavinia felt a cold chill in the pit of her stomach. “Did he hurt you last night, Jessi
“Yes. He always hurts me when he punishes me. He says it is my fault that he is forced to administer the blows.”
“What happened, Jessica?”
“He sends the servants to their quarters. Then he seizes me by the arm. He drags me to the bedchamber and he . . . he hurts me. He strikes me again and again.”
Lavinia searched Jessica’s attractive face. There was no sign of marks or bruises.
“Where does he strike you, Jessica?”
“My breasts. My stomach. Everywhere but my face. He is always very careful not to bruise my face. He says he does not want anyone to feel sorry for me. I am such a poor wife that I would surely take advantage of a black eye or a cut lip to try to elicit sympathy from those who do not know that I deserved to be punished.”
Lavinia stared at her, horrified. “Does he hurt you often?”
“The rages are becoming more frequent. It is as though he is coming closer and closer to losing control altogether. It is clear that he married me only to secure my inheritance. I think that soon now he will kill me.”
Lavinia pulled herself out of the memory of the dreadful session.
“I vow, I could not bear to hear any more of her sad tale,” Lavinia said. “I cut short the trance and told her what she had said to me.”
“How did she respond?”
“She was humiliated. At first she denied it. But I could see from the way she held herself that she was in pain that was of both a psychic and physical nature. When I confronted her with that observation, she broke down and wept.”
“What can I do?” Jessica said through her tears.
“Do?” Lavinia was stunned by the simple question. “Why, you must leave him at once, of course.”
“I have dreamed of leaving him.” Jessica dried her eyes with the handkerchief Lavinia gave her. “But he controls my fortune. I have no close family left to call upon for assistance. I cannot even afford a ticket for the stage to London. And what would I do if I did manage to escape? I have no way to make a living. I would end up on the streets. And I fear that Oscar would come after me. He cannot abide a defiant woman. He would punish me terribly when he found me. He might well kill me.”