Tobias smiled at the sound of her voice. It was a crisp, bracing tonic, a strong antidote to Celeste’s cloying sweetness.
He watched Lavinia stride purposefully toward them, a small bundle that no doubt contained a newly purchased volume of poetry in one hand, a perky green-and-white parasol in the other. She was dressed in a deep emerald green gown and a striped-green pelisse.
Another one of Madam Francesca’s creations, he thought. The gemlike hues set off Lavinia’s red hair, which was bound up beneath a clever little green hat.
She came to a halt in front of him and gave him a steely smile.
“You’re late,” she announced.
She was not in a good mood, he realized. Beneath the wispy veil of the hat, her eyes glinted in a dangerous fashion.
“My fault, I’m afraid,” Celeste murmured. She did not take her hand away from Tobias’s arm. “We bumped into each other here on the street and fell to chatting. I trust you will forgive me for distracting your Mr. March for a moment or two?”
“In my experience, Mr. March is rarely distracted unless he wishes to be distracted.” Lavinia gave Tobias another icy little smile. “I collect that the subject you were discussing was quite riveting?”
“I believe we were conversing about the pleasures of shopping,” Tobias said. With a small but determined movement of his arm, he succeeded in dislodging Celeste’s dainty little claws.
“Shopping?” Lavinia raised her brows. “Not one of your favorite subjects, as I recall.” She turned back to Celeste. “Speaking of shopping, I saw your fan just as you were folding it, Mrs. Hudson. Most unusual. May I ask where you purchased it? I should like to find a similar one.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Celeste dropped the fan into her reticule. “I made it myself.”
“You don’t say.” Lavinia’s eyes widened admiringly. “I am extremely impressed. Unfortunately, I possess no artistic talents whatsoever.”
“I’m sure you have other talents, Mrs. Lake.”
There was a distinct edge to Celeste’s voice now, Tobias noticed. The rippling-brook effect had vanished entirely.
“I like to think that I do have one or two humble skills,” Lavinia said with patently false modesty. “Take shopping, for instance. I consider that I have a distinct talent for being able to spot cheap, shoddy goods at a glance.”
“Indeed.” Celeste stiffened, but her condescending smile remained firmly fixed. “I, on the other hand, have always had a knack for identifying frauds and charlatans. I suspect such individuals are something of a problem in your new line, are they not?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
Celeste raised one shoulder in a delicate shrug. “Evidently just anyone can set herself up as an investigator and make claims of expertise that cannot possibly be verified.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“How on earth is a potential client to know whether or not he or she is dealing with an individual who is actually qualified to make private inquiries?” Celeste asked innocently.
“If one is wise, one selects an investigator the same way one selects a practitioner of mesmerism,” Lavinia shot back smoothly. “One relies upon references.”
“You can provide references, Mrs. Lake? I am astonished to hear that.”
It was time to intervene, Tobias decided. He did not relish the notion of stepping into the middle of this skirmish, but his duty as Lavinia’s occasional partner was clear. He dared not stand by and watch her get drawn into a loud and embarrassing scene right here in the middle of the street. She would never forgive him for allowing her to humiliate herself in such a public fashion.
“Speaking of business matters, Mrs. Hudson,” he said just as Lavinia opened her mouth to respond to Celeste’s latest goad, “I assume that you and Dr. Hudson have several excellent references from your time in Bath.”
“Yes, of course we do.” Celeste glared at Lavinia. “Howard gave therapeutic treatments to only the most exclusive sort. I made certain of it.”
“I doubt if your clientele was any more exclusive than ours,” Lavinia shot back.
“Indeed?” Celeste gave her a pitying look. “I think it is highly unlikely that you can count such distinguished gentlemen as Lords Gunning and Northampton on your list of clients.”
Lavinia opened her mouth to retaliate. Tobias took her arm in a firm grip and squeezed just hard enough to get her attention. She shot him a disgruntled look, but she closed her mouth.
“Impressive,” he said quickly. “Unfortunately, Mrs. Lake has not yet acquired any titled clients, but perhaps she will be lucky enough to do so one of these days. Meanwhile, you must excuse us. We have an appointment.”
“We do not have an appointment,” Lavinia said.
“Yes, we do,” he said. “You have obviously forgotten it.” He smiled at Celeste. “Good day, madam.” • Celeste switched her attention back to him. The sparkling look returned to her eyes, and her voice became warm and husky once more. “Good day, Mr. March. It was a pleasure meeting up with you. I trust that we shall bump into each other again in the very near future. I would very much like to continue our discussion of how one may obtain free samples of certain very special wares.”
“Indeed,” he said.
He turned, and dragging Lavinia with him, walked swiftly away.
There was a short moment of silence. He could feel Lavinia vibrating with outrage on his arm.
“You do realize,” Lavinia said, “that she was attempting to put you into a trance with that silly fan.”
“It occurred to me, yes. It was an interesting experience. Especially in light of the fact that she made a point of telling us the other day that she had no talent for the art of mesmerism.”
Lavinia sniffed with undisguised disdain. “I doubt if she does have much genuine ability. But she has been working with Howard for a year, so it is possible that she has picked up a few rudimentary skills.”
“And chose to practice them on me? I wonder why she went to the trouble.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The answer is perfectly obvious, if you ask me. She intended to seduce you and thought to use her poor mesmeric techniques to accomplish her goal.”
He smiled. “Do you really believe that was her objective?”
“I am quite certain of it. It is clear to me that she finds you fascinating, intriguing, and something of a challenge.”
“I would be flattered were it not for the fact that I have the distinct impression that Celeste places all men into one of two categories. Useful and Not Useful. I have a nasty suspicion that she has decided that I fit into the former.”
Lavinia tilted the parasol to get a better look at him. “You believe that she thinks she can somehow use you?”
“It is a blow to my pride, of course. Nevertheless, I am forced to conclude that it is the most likely explanation for her interest in me.”
“And just how do you imagine that she might use you, sir?”
“Damned if I know,” he admitted.
“Rubbish.” Lavinia’s hand tightened around his arm. “I think she is madly attracted to you and thinks it would be amusing to indulge in an affair.”
He grinned. “As I am not the sort of man who can be put into a trance by just any passing mesmerist, we are unlikely to ever discover the truth of her intentions.”
“I trust not.”
“Are you by any chance jealous, Lavinia?”
“Of her extremely limited mesmeric skills? Certainly not.”
“Not of Celeste’s mesmeric talents.” He lowered his voice. “Of her interest in me.”
She gazed straight ahead. “Is there any reason why I should feel the pangs of jealousy?”
“No.”
She brightened. “Then the subject does not arise.”