The long metal arm with the small brush spun rapidly when he worked the crank.

“I will now employ my invention to control the waves of animal magnetism in your body,” Darfield said. “Think of those magnetic waves as a cascade of rushing water that must burst through a dam before falling into a calm, tranquil pool. Think of this medical device as the tool that will release that inner flood. Abandon yourself to the therapy, madam. You are in the hands of a doctor.”

He grasped the hem of her skirts with one hand and started to ease them up toward her knees. With his other hand he pushed the little cart with the mechanical device forward between her legs. She understood now just where he intended to apply the whirling brush in order to relieve her so-called congestion.

“Dr. Darfield. Stop at once.” She sat bolt upright, snapped her legs together, and bounded up out of the chair. “That is quite enough.”

She whirled around to face him and found him watching her with an expression of grave concern.

“Calm yourself, madam. Your nerves are, indeed, very highly strung.”

“They shall have to remain that way, I’m afraid. I do not care for your methods, sir. I have no intention of allowing you to treat me with that odd mechanical device.”

“Madam, I assure you that my methods are firmly rooted in sound modern science and centuries of medical practice. Why, every notable man of medicine from the great Galen of Pergamum to the esteemed Culpeper himself has advised vigorous massage of that region of the female anatomy for the relief of hysteria and nervous disorders.”

“A rather intimate form of massage, in my opinion.”

He was clearly affronted. “I will have you know that there is absolutely nothing controversial about my therapies. The only thing I have done is to improve upon the old-fashioned manual techniques that have long been in use by doctors. This modern mechanical device affords my patients a far more efficient form of treatment.”

“Efficiency is hardly the point here.”

“It bloody well is the point if you’re trying to make a decent living in this business.” His mouth thinned. “I’ll have you know that before I perfected my device, some of my patients took damned near an hour to reach the paroxysm. Do you have any notion of how much manual labor that required on my part? That sort of thing is bloody hard work, madam.”

“Work.” She swept out a hand to indicate the hinged chair and his machine. “You call this work, sir?”

“Yes, I most certainly do call it work. E)o you think it’s easy to induce a paroxysm over and over again in an endless line of female patients? I tell you, madam, there were days when my arm and hand were so fatigued and so sore from my efforts that I was obliged to apply a poultice at night.”

“Do not expect me to extend my sympathies.” She plucked her bonnet off the table and started toward the door. “It appears that you are doing quite well for yourself with your therapeutic treatments.”

“I make a decent living, but I am far short of making a fortune in this business. Unfortunately, to date I have been unsuccessful in attracting the attention of the fashionable members of the ton. That is where the real money is to be made, you know.”

“I am well aware of that.” She paused, curious in spite of herself. “Do you mean to say that your excellent advertisements in the papers fail to bring you the more exclusive sort of clientele?”

“The High Flyers always want references from others who move in rare circles,” he muttered.

She could not help but sympathize. “References are always a problem, are they not?”

“Yes.” He paused. “Now, then, if we might return to the subject of your delicate nerves, madam, I assure you, if you will allow me to apply my mechanical device-”

“No, thank you.” She shuddered and threw open the door. “I do not think my delicate nerves would be able to withstand a treatment with your apparatus. Good day, Dr. Darfield.”

She swept through the doorway and hurried toward the staircase. In her rush to escape, she nearly collided with the blond secretary in the downstairs hall. He recovered and opened the front door for her.

She tried to appear casual and nonchalant as she went down the steps to the street. She even managed a polite smile for the woman who passed her on her way to the green door. But the pose was not easy to maintain.

She was forced to concede that the decision to investigate Mrs. Rushton’s mesmerist had not been one of her more brilliant notions. How fortunate that she had not mentioned her plan to Tobias that morning at breakfast. She was at least saved the necessity of having to provide him with a report of her inquiries.

She walked briskly past the dark entrance to an alley, not noticing the man standing in the shadows until he moved out. She jumped several inches when he fell into step beside her.

“Tobias.”

“A pleasant day for a walk, is it not?” Tobias asked.

“Must you lurk in dark alleys? I vow, you nearly gave me an attack of the vapors. What on earth do you think you are doing?”

“You could not resist a firsthand look at the good doctor, could you?” Tobias did not trouble to hide his mocking smile. “Did you let Darfield put you into a trance?”

“No. As it happens, I am not a suitable subject.”

“That does not surprise me. You would not find it easy to surrender your will to another.”

“No more than you would,” she shot back. “Only consider how stubborn you have been whenever I have offered to see if I could give you some relief from your wound.”

“You have provided me with exquisite relief of another sort on a number of occasions, madam. I am very satisfied with your therapeutic treatments.”

“That is less amusing than you can possibly imagine,” she muttered. “What are you doing here? Good grief, sir, you followed me, did you not?”

“I will admit that I was somewhat curious. Well? Did you learn anything useful?”

“Our primary client is a mesmerist, and the murder victim had some skills in the science,” she said stiffly. “I admit that the fact that another one of our clients, Mrs. Rushton, happens to be seeing a mesmerist bothered me. You are the one who taught me to be wary of coincidences.”

“Given the number of people who consult mesmerists about poor nerves, it would be more astonishing if it transpired that Mrs. Rushton had not sought therapy for hers,” he said dryly. “Well? Were you satisfied with your inquiries in that direction?”

She cleared her throat. “Quite satisfied.”

“You are convinced that Darfield is a legitimate practitioner?”

“Indeed.”

Tobias glanced thoughtfully back over his shoulder toward the green door. “Judging from the patients I saw going into his establishment while I waited for you, he appears to specialize in the treatment of ladies.”

“Yes. Yes, he does, as a matter of fact. He is an expert in the treatment of female hysteria.”

“What the devil is female hysteria, anyway? I’ve often wondered.”

“It is somewhat difficult to describe to an untrained person,” she said very coolly. “Suffice it to say that it is an extremely profitable complaint so far as those in the medical and mesmeric professions are concerned because the patient neither dies nor recovers from her disease. One gets a great deal of repeat business.”

“As is the case with Mrs. Rushton.”

“Yes.”

“Something to be said for a profession that encourages repeat business.” He took her arm and started across the street. “How does Dr. Darfield treat female hysterics?”

“Why are you suddenly so curious about such an arcane medical subject?”

“I could not help but notice that the ladies who were admitted to his rooms seemed to go up those steps with a great deal of enthusiasm. I also recall that Mrs. Rushton spoke glowingly about his treatments. I assume Darfield’s mode of therapy is not only effective but painless.”