by Amanda Quick
Joan hesitated and then shook her head. “The Colchester ball is tonight. It is the one event of the Season that I simply cannot miss.”
“Surely you can send your regrets?”
“Impossible. Lady Colchester will be greatly offended if I do not put in an appearance. I told you, she is the grandmother of my daughter’s fiancé and she is the tyrant in the family. If she becomes annoyed with me, she will take her petty vengeance on Maryanne.”
Tobias saw the sympathetic understanding in Lavinia’s eyes and groaned silently. It occurred to him that no one comprehended the perils and pitfalls of attempting to forge a good match more acutely than another who was engaged in a similar attempt. He knew before she even opened her mouth that he had already lost this small battle.
“Good heavens,” Lavinia said. “Do you think Lady Colchester might go so far as to force Maryanne’s fiancé to cry off?”
Joan’s expression tightened. “I cannot say. I only know that I will not put Maryanne’s future at risk simply because I am afraid to attend a ball tonight.”
Lavinia turned quickly to Tobias. “Mrs. Dove will be in the company of her footmen traveling to and from the affair. Once in the Colchester mansion, she will be surrounded by people. She should be quite safe.”
“I do not like it,” he said, aware that he was wasting his breath.
Lavinia brightened. “I have an idea.”
Tobias winced and absently rubbed his leg. “Of course you do,” he said. “Bloody hell.”
twenty
The house was empty and silent when Tobias followed Lavinia through her front hall a short while later. All the better for the stern lecture he planned to administer, he thought.
“Mrs. Chilton is at her daughter’s this afternoon,” Lavinia explained as she slung her bonnet over a hook. “Emeline is attending a lecture on antiquities with Priscilla and Anthony.”
“I am aware of that. Anthony said something about escorting them to the event.” He dropped his hat and gloves onto the table and looked at her. “Lavinia, I wish to speak to you.”
“Won’t you come into the study?” She was already halfway down the hall. “We can light the fire. Such a pleasant, cozy setting for one of our little quarrels, don’t you think?”
“Damnation.”
There was no help for it. He followed her into the study. She was right. The small room was a far more charming venue for an argument than the front hall. It occurred to him that he was becoming very comfortable with this snug, book-lined little chamber. When he entered it he had the oddest sensation of coming home.
Utter nonsense, of course.
He watched Lavinia settle lightly into the chair behind her desk. The thoroughly satisfied air that emanated from her was palpable.
He crouched in front of the hearth, wincing at the throb in his leg, and lit the fire.
“You are very pleased with that shameless bit of manipulative strategy, are you not?” he said.
“Come now, Tobias. Suggesting to Mrs. Dove that Emeline and I accompany her to the Colchester ball was a perfectly reasonable solution to a difficult dilemma. It was obvious she was quite determined to attend the affair. This way I will be able to keep an eye on her.”
He smiled humorlessly. “What a stroke of good fortune for you that Mrs. Dove did not perceive any problem in securing additional invitations for some friends from Bath who just happened to be visiting her.”
“You heard what she said. Even if she could not get additional invitations, it would not be a problem to bring two companions with her. The Colchester ball is such a huge crush that no one will notice a few extra guests.”
“Could you try a little harder not to gloat? It is very irritating.”
She gave him an innocent look. “I’m going to all this trouble to protect my client.”
“Do not try to pretend that you made your gracious offer purely for the sake of keeping an eye on Joan Dove.” His leg protested again when he got to his feet. “I know you too well, madam. You took advantage of the opportunity to seize an invitation to a ball for your niece.”
She smiled smugly. “It really is an incredible coup, is it not? Just imagine, tonight Emeline will attend one of the most important social events of the Season. Wait until Lady Wortham hears about this. So much for her little innuendos about all the favors she is doing for Emeline.”
Tobias was almost amused in spite of his mood. “Remind me never to get in between a matchmaking woman and an invitation to an important social affair.”
“Come now, Tobias. At least this way we know that Mrs. Dove will be safe tonight.” Lavinia paused. “Not that Neville is likely to try to murder her in the middle of the grandest ball of the Season.”
Tobias considered that closely. “It does seem an awkward situation in which to attempt murder, does it not? Nevertheless, given Mrs. Dove’s reclusive nature and the fact that when she does leave her house she is always accompanied by those large footmen, a desperate killer might think he had little choice.”
“Don’t fret, Tobias. I will not let her out of my sight at the Colchester ball.” Lavinia sat forward and rested her chin on her palm. The expression in her eyes grew somber. “Were you serious when you told her that you plan to search Neville’s house tonight?”
“Yes. We must have some answers quickly, and I do not know where else to look for them.”
“But what if he is home?”
“This is the height of the Season,” Tobias said. “Given their social standing, Neville and his wife are out of the house nearly every night. I know for a fact that Neville rarely goes home before dawn even during the quiet months.”
Lavinia wrinkled her nose. “It is rather obvious that Neville and his lady do not take much pleasure in each other’s company.”
“In that regard, they have much in common with other couples in the ton. Be that as it may, in my experience, when the servants in a large house know their employers are going to be away for most of the evening, many of them slip out for a few hours also. Odds are the mansion will be almost empty tonight. The few members of the staff who are there will likely be occupied in their own quarters. It should be easy to get in unobserved.”
She said nothing.
He looked at her. “Well? What is it?”
She picked up a pen and tapped the end of it against the palm of her hand. “I don’t like this plan of yours, Tobias.”
“Why not?”
She hesitated and then put down the pen. She got to her feet and looked at him, unease clear in her eyes.
“This is not the same as searching Sally Johnson’s little house,” she said quietly. “We have as much as concluded that Neville is a murderer. The thought of you prowling through his mansion alone at night disturbs me greatly.”
“Your concern is touching, Lavinia. And not a little surprising. I had no notion you cared so much for the safety of my person. I was under the impression that I have been something of a nuisance to you.”
Without warning, she bristled. “Do not make light of this. We are dealing with a man who may have murdered several women.”
“And quite possibly commissioned the murder of Bennett Ruckland,” he said softly.
“Ruckland? The man who was killed in Italy?”
“Yes.”
“But you said Carlisle arranged for his murder.”
“Neville and Carlisle knew each other well because of their connection to the Blue Chamber. I suspect Neville paid him a great deal of money to see to it that Ruckland never returned to England.”
“You are so determined to find the information you want, I fear that you will take foolish risks. Perhaps you should take Anthony with you. He could serve as a body-guard.”
“No. I want Anthony to attend the Colchester ball. He can help you keep watch on Joan Dove.”
“I am perfectly capable of keeping an eye on Joan. I think Anthony should go with you.”
He smiled faintly. “It’s kind of you to be so concerned
on my behalf, Lavinia. But console yourself with the thought that if anything does go wrong, it will be entirely my fault. As it always is, in your opinion.”
“Damnation, sir, you are trying to avoid the issue.”
“Well, yes, I am. I don’t see the conversation going anywhere useful.”
“Tobias, do stop provoking me, or I will not be responsible for my actions.”
The clenched fists at her sides and the sudden storm in her eyes told him instantly that his poor attempt to lighten the mood had misfired.
“Lavinia—”
“This is not a matter of affixing blame. We are talking about common sense here.”
He caught her face between his hands. “Has it escaped your notice, madam, that where you and I are concerned, common sense is a very uncommon commodity?”
She gripped his wrists with her fingers. “Promise me that you will be extremely careful tonight, Tobias.”
“You have my word on it.”
“Promise me that you will not enter the house if there is any sign that Neville is at home.”
“I can assure you, Neville will most certainly not be home tonight,” he said. “In fact, it is highly likely that he and his lady will put in an appearance at the Colchester ball. You will probably see more of him than I will.”
“That’s not good enough. Promise me you won’t go in if there is anyone at all in the house.”
“Lavinia, I cannot do that.”
She groaned. “I was afraid you would say that. Promise me—”
“I have had enough of promises for the moment. I would much rather kiss you.”
Her eyes glittered, whether with temper or passion, he could not say. He hoped it was the latter.
“I am attempting to conduct a serious conversation,” she said.
“Do you want to kiss me?”
“That is not the subject of this discussion. We are talking about you risking your neck.”
He stroked his thumbs along the line of her jaw. The soft, smooth feel of her skin riveted him.
“Kiss me, Lavinia.”
She put both palms on his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat. He could not tell if she wanted to push him away or pull him close.
“Promise me that you will be sensible,” she said.
“No, Lavinia.” He lightly kissed her forehead, then her nose. “You cannot ask that of me. It is not in my power to make such a promise.”
“Rubbish. Of course it is.”
“No.” He shook his head slightly. “I have not been sensible where you are concerned since the first time I saw you on a street in Rome.”
“Tobias.” She caught her breath. “This is madness. We do not even particularly like each other.”
“Speak for yourself, madam. As for me, I find I am growing rather fond of you in spite of your ability to infuriate me so easily.”
“Fond?” Her eyes widened. “You are fond of me?”
A twinge went through him. He could almost hear Anthony lecturing him.
“Perhaps ‘fond’ is not the appropriate word under the circumstances,” he said.
“ ‘Fond’ is a word one uses to describe one’s feelings for a good friend or a doting aunt or . . . or a pet dog.”
“Then it is most certainly the wrong word,” he said. “Because my feelings for you have nothing in common with my feelings for friends, aunts, or dogs.”
“Tobias—”
He touched the exquisitely sweet place at the nape of her neck where a few strands of unruly hair had come free of the pins. “I want you, Lavinia. I cannot ever remember wanting a woman this badly. It is an ache in my gut that will not go away.”
“Wonderful. I give you a bellyache.” She closed her eyes. A shiver went through her. “I have always dreamed of being able to affect a man in such a thrilling manner.”
“Anthony tells me that I am not very good when it comes to dealing with women. Perhaps it would make things simpler if you would cease talking and kiss me.”
“You really are the most impossible man, Tobias March.”
“Then we are indeed well matched. You are certainly the most impossible woman I have ever met in my life. Will you kiss me?”
Something flashed in her eyes. It could have been outrage or frustration or passion. Her hands moved off his shoulders, wound around his neck. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him.
He opened his mouth on hers, tasting her, searching for the wildness he had uncovered the other night in the carriage. She shuddered and tightened her arms around him. Her desire ignited the smoldering fire in his blood.
“Tobias.” She slid her fingertips through his hair and kissed him with rising urgency.
“There is something about you that makes me feel I am in the grip of a powerful drug,” he whispered. “I fear I am becoming an addict.”
“Oh, Tobias.”
This time his name was a choked, strangled cry, muffled against his throat.
He tightened his hands around her ribs, just beneath her breasts, and lifted her up against his chest. She made a soft, erotic sound that fanned the blaze sweeping through him.
He moved forward with her. She braced her palms on his shoulders again and continued to pelt him with damp, heated little kisses.
When he got her to the desk, he lowered her until she was sitting on the edge. He used one hand to steady her and opened his trousers with the other. When his sex sprang free, she reached down and took him in her soft fingers.
He closed his eyes and set his teeth against the hunger threatening to consume him. When he had himself back under control, he opened his eyes and saw that she was flushed with excitement, trembling with anticipation.
He eased her legs apart and put his hands on the soft, bare skin just above her stockings. He went down on one knee in front of her and kissed the inside of her right thigh. Then he went farther, closing relentlessly on his goal.
“Tobias.” She clenched her hands in his hair. “What are you . . . ? No, no, you cannot kiss me there. For goodness sake, Tobias, you must not . . .”
He ignored her shocked protests. When he touched the tender, sensitive nubbin with the edge of his tongue, she finally stopped talking. The last of her protests died in a choked gasp.
He slid his fingers into her and deepened the kiss. She came in near silence, as if she had no breath left. He felt the tightness within her dissolve in a series of tiny shivers.
When the crisis had passed, he stood up and held her in a close embrace. She went limp against him.
“Did you learn that in Italy?” she mumbled into his neck. “They do say there is nothing like the Grand Tour to put a polish on an education.”
He did not think the question required a reply. Just as well. He did not trust himself to carry on a lucid conversation.
He moved between Lavinia’s legs and wrapped his hands around her lushly curved buttocks. She lifted her head off his shoulder and smiled slowly. Her eyes were like seas a thousand miles deep and filled with warm, enticing currents. He could not have looked away if he had tried.
“The eyes of a practitioner of mesmerism,” he whispered. “You have indeed put me into a trance.”
She touched the lobe of his ear with one fingertip. Then she touched the edge of his mouth. She smiled and he plunged deeper into the spell.
He readied himself to plunge into her as well.
The sound of the front door opening followed by muffled voices in the front hall stopped him cold just as he was about to sink himself into Lavinia’s snug warmth.
She stiffened in his arms. “Oh dear,” she said urgently. “Tobias—”
“Hell’s teeth.” He rested his forehead on hers. “Don’t tell me—”
“I do believe that Emeline has returned home somewhat earlier than expected.” Panic infused Lavinia’s voice. She batted at him ineffectually. “We must put ourselves to rights at once. She will be here in a moment.”
The trance was broken.
He stepp
ed back, fumbling with his trousers. “Calm yourself, Lavinia. I do not think she will notice anything amiss.”
“We need some fresh air in here.”
Lavinia bounced off the desk, shook out her skirts, and rushed to the window. She opened it wide. A cold, damp breeze rushed into the study. The fire flickered wildly.
Tobias was amused. “It’s raining, in case you had not noticed.”
She whirled around and shot him a repressive glare. “I am very well aware of that fact.”
He smiled. Then he heard a familiar voice coming down the hall.
“I thought the portion of Mr. Halcomb’s lecture devoted to the ruins of Pompeii was rather weak,” Anthony said.
“I agree. I doubt very much he went farther than the British Museum to conduct his researches.”
Lavinia stiffened. “What do they think they are doing? Good heavens, if any of the neighbors saw them enter an empty house together, Emeline will be ruined. Utterly ruined.”
“Uh, Lavinia—”
“I will handle this.” She marched to the door of the study and flung it open. “Just what is going on here?”
Anthony and Emeline, halfway down the hall, stopped.
“Good afternoon, Mr. March,” Emeline said.
“Miss Emeline.”
Anthony looked wary. “Is there something wrong, Mrs. Lake?”
“Have you no common sense?” she demanded furiously. “Emeline, it is all very well to allow Mr. Sinclair to escort you as far as the front door, but to invite him into the house when there is no one about? What on earth were you thinking?”
Emeline looked baffled. “But, Lavinia—”
“What if any of the neighbors saw you?”
Anthony exchanged a look with Emeline. Then a knowing expression appeared in his eyes.
“Let me make certain I have this plain,” he said. “You are concerned because I may have been seen escorting Miss Emeline into a house where there is no one present to act as a chaperone. Correct?”
“Precisely.” Lavinia fitted her hands to her hips. “Two unmarried young people entering the house together? What will the neighbors think?”