“I’m sure he will. He was not one to enjoy the pleasures of Society, as I recall.” Lavinia turned a page of the newspaper. And who cared a fig about Pelling, anyway, now that Tobias knew the truth and did not count it against her? Life certainly seemed a good bit lighter and brighter this morning.

Emeline helped herself to some jam from the little pot in the center of the table. “I want to talk to you, if you don’t mind.”

“You are talking to me.”

“I mean, I want to discuss something important. I have been thinking about my career.”

“What career? You don’t have one.”

Lavinia did not look up from the newspaper. A sheet of paper and a pencil lay on the table next to her coffee cup. After much thought, she had concluded that before undertaking the task of writing an advertisement for the newspapers, it would be instructive to study the subject.

To that end, she had decided to make a list of especially effective words and phrases that appeared in the most attractive advertisements. Her goal was to develop a riveting vocabulary that could be employed in the notices that she herself eventually would write to advertise her services as an investigator.

The notices in this morning’s paper were a varied lot. Most were not particularly arresting, in Lavinia’s opinion. There was an announcement of rooms available to let with a pleasant view of the park, and another alerting gentlemen of fashion to the arrival of superior cotton shirting guaranteed to prevent profuse perspiration.

Far and away the most interesting notice had been placed by a Dr. G. A. Darfield, who offered treatments for widows and married ladies who suffer from delicate nerves and female hysteria. He promised singularly effective remedies especially suited to the female constitution.

“That is precisely my point,” Emeline said. “I do not have a career.”

“Of course you don’t.” Lavinia pondered the advertisement that offered treatments for female hysteria. “What do you think of the phrase singularly effective remedies}”

“It sounds too medicinal in nature. Lavinia, you are not listening to me. I am attempting to discuss my future.”

“What is the problem with your future?” Lavinia picked up the pencil and jotted down the words singularly and effective. “I thought it was shaping up rather nicely. Thanks to Joan Dove, we have invitations to two of the most important social events of the Season-the Stillwater ball and the one Joan herself is planning. Which reminds me, we have appointments with Madam Francesca for fittings for our gowns.”

“Yes, I know. But I do not want to talk about balls and fashions.” Emeline paused. “I mean to establish myself in a profession, Lavinia.”

“Nonsense.” Lavinia frowned at a milliner’s advertisement: An excellent selection for discerning persons who are interested only in the most fashionable bonnets and hats. “No gentleman of the ton wants a wife who has established herself in a career. Do you think 1 should describe my services as fashionable?”

“I don’t see how one can describe the business of making confidential inquiries as fashionable.”

“On the contrary. It is obvious that if one wishes to attract an exclusive clientele one must contrive to appear fashionable, regardless of the services one offers.

No member of the ton can abide the notion of being unfashionable.”

“Lavinia, I do not intend to marry any gentleman who moves in the ton. Indeed, I cannot imagine a more dreadful fate.”

Lavinia wrote down the word fashionable. “Surely you do not intend to marry a farmer. Neither of us was excessively fond of rusticating, as I recall.”

“I have no intention of wedding a farmer. I have decided that I would like to become your associate.”

“What do you mean? You already are my associate. Indeed, we associate daily. What do you think about the phrase effective devices for gentlemen of intrigue, offered in a confidential and discreet manner} That has an interesting ring to it, don’t you agree?”

“Yes.” Emeline frowned delicately. “But I have no notion of what it means.”

“Neither do I.” Lavinia pursed her lips. “That is a bit of a problem, is it not? Perhaps if I altered the vocabulary somewhat-” She broke off at the muffled sound of the front door opening. “It appears we have a visitor. It is much too early for a social call. Perhaps it is a new client.”

“More likely it is Mr. March.” Emeline helped herself to another warm biscuit. “I have noticed that he no longer stands on formality when he calls upon you.”

“He never did stand on it,” Lavinia muttered. “If you will recall, he was busily smashing the statuary in our little shop in Rome the first time he introduced himself. His social graces have not improved a great deal since that first meeting, in my opinion.”

Emeline smiled and took a dainty bite of her biscuit.

Lavinia listened warily to the sound of bootsteps coming down the hall. “You may be right in that he seems to be getting worse, however. This is the second time this week that he has paid a call at breakfast.”

Emeline’s eyes brightened. “Mayhap Anthony will have accompanied him.”

“Do not go to any trouble, Mrs. Chilton.” Tobias’s voice reverberated through the paneling of the breakfast room. “Some of the eggs and your excellent potatoes will do nicely.”

In spite of her irritation, Lavinia found herself listening intently, as she always did, to the slight hitch in his stride as he approached. Some part of her relaxed when she noted that he did not appear to be favoring his left leg unduly today. That was no doubt because the morning had dawned clear. She knew that the wound bothered him most when it rained or when a damp fog clung to the city.

Tobias appeared in the doorway and came to a halt. “Good day to you, ladies.”

“Mr. March.” Emeline beamed. “How lovely to see you. Is Mr. Sinclair with you?”

“No. He wanted to accompany me, but I dispatched him on some business.” Tobias looked at Lavinia, a determined glint in his eyes. “I vow, you are looking lovely today, madam. The very incarnation of Venus rising from the sea. Indeed, the sight of you aglow in the morning light elevates my spirits, clarifies my thoughts, and inspires me to metaphysical contemplation.”

“Incarnation of Venus?” Lavinia paused, her cup halfway to her mouth, and frowned in concern. “Are you feeling ill, Tobias? You do not sound yourself.”

“I am in excellent health, thank you.” He glanced expectantly at the enameled pot. “Any coffee left?”

Emeline responded before Lavinia could question his uncharacteristic greeting further.

“Of course.” Emeline picked up the pot. “Please sit down. I shall be delighted to pour some for you. Perhaps Mr. Sinclair will pay us a call after he has finished with his business affairs?”

“I doubt it. He will be occupied for most of the day.” Tobias took a chair without further ado and helped himself to the last biscuit.

Emeline poured coffee. “Mr. Sinclair did not mention that he had plans for today.”

“Very likely because he did not have any plans until he took a notion to engage himself as my assistant.”

Emeline looked up sharply and set down the pot with a small thud. “Assistant?”

Tobias shrugged and reached for the butter and the jam pot. “He tells me that he wishes to embark upon a career as an investigator. Says he wants me to teach him the business.”

Emeline was riveted. “Indeed. That is amazing.”

“Personally, I found it decidedly depressing.” Tobias finished spreading butter and jam on his biscuit and took a large bite out of it. “As you know, I have been urging him toward a more stable profession. I envisioned him becoming a man of business. But according to Anthony, the only other career that interests him is that of professional gamester.”