“Well, Howard?” Celeste looked at him across the small space that separated them in the hackney. “You said that you were driven by curiosity to see how your old family friend had done in the world. Are you satisfied?”

He contemplated the view of the street, his handsome profile at an oblique angle. “I suppose so. But I confess I find it absolutely extraordinary that Lavinia would abandon a career in mesmerism for such an odd business.”

“Perhaps Mr. March is the lure that drew her into this other career. It is obvious that they are lovers.”

“Perhaps.” Howard paused. “But it is difficult to credit that she would give up the practice for any reason, including a lover. She truly did have a talent for the art. I suspected for some time that she would make a more accomplished practitioner than either of her parents. And they were both very skilled, indeed.”

“Passion is a very powerful force.” She gave him a knowing smile. “It can cause a woman to alter the course of her life. Only consider our own connection and how my life has changed because of it.”

Howard’s expression softened. He reached out to pat her gloved hand with his long, elegant fingers. His brilliant eyes darkened.

“It is you who changed my life, my dear,” he said in his rich, velvety voice. “I shall be forever grateful that you chose to join your fate with mine.”

They were both lying through their teeth, she thought. But they each did it very well.

Howard returned to his study of the busy street. “What do you think of Lavinia’s associate, Mr. March?”

She gave herself a moment to ponder the subject of Tobias March. She considered herself something of an authority on the male of the species. For most of her life her fortunes had depended on the accuracy with which she could assess men and the skill she could bring to the task of manipulating them.

She had always possessed an aptitude for the business, but she considered that her serious study of the subject had begun with her first husband. She had been sixteen years old. He had been a widowed shopkeeper in his seventies who had conveniently expired in the middle of an unsuccessful attempt to fulfill his marital duties. She had inherited the shop, but having no intention of spending her life behind a counter, she had immediately sold it for a rather nice sum.

The money from the sale of the small business had enabled her to purchase the gowns and fripperies required to move up a couple of rungs on the social ladder. Her next conquest was a dull-witted son of a member of the local gentry, who had paid her rent for four months before his family discovered the affair and cut off his allowance. There had been others after that, including a man of the cloth who had insisted that she wear the garments of his calling while he made love to her on top of the altar.

The affair had ended when they were discovered by an elderly member of the congregation. The woman had promptly succumbed to a fit of the vapors at the sight of what was happening on the altar. All had not been lost, Celeste reflected. While her lover waved a vinaigrette under the nose of the stricken member of his flock, Celeste had slipped away through a side door, taking with her a very fine pair of candlesticks that she was certain would never be missed from the church’s large collection of silver.

The candlesticks had sustained her financially until she met Howard. He had proved to be her greatest triumph to date. She had known the moment she met him that he had unique possibilities. The fact that he was not only personally attracted to her but also appreciated her clever nature had simplified matters. When all was said and done, she was in his debt. He had taught her a great deal.

She sorted through her impressions of Tobias March. Her first observation was that, although he was endowed with excellent shoulders and a very fine physique, he appeared to have little interest in fashion. His coat and trousers had been cut for comfort and ease of movement, not style. The knot in his cravat had been simple and severe, not fashionably intricate.

But she considered herself an astute student of men, one who was accustomed to looking past such superficial elements. She had known immediately that March was very different from the other gentlemen she had encountered in her life. It was obvious to her that he possessed a steel core at the center of his being that had nothing to do with physical prowess. She had seen it in the veiled depths of his cool, enigmatic gaze.

“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.