‘em so long.

Not that much to the business, if ye ask me. Leastways, there wasn’t in my day.”

“Not that much to what business?” Emeline sounded exasperated now.

Mrs. Chilton gave Anthony a speaking glance.

Comprehension struck him.

“Mrs. Chilton is right.” He seized Emeline’s arm and hurried her along in the housekeeper’s wake. “It’s a nice day for sitting in the park.”

“What is this all about?” Emeline allowed herself to be swept off, but she did not look happy about it. “What is going on, Mrs. Chilton?”

“It’s my own fault, I suppose. Felt sorry for ‘em, ye see. Always havin’ to make do with parks and gardens and carriages and such. Can’t be comfortable what with his bad leg and all, and the weather is so unpredictable at this time of year.”

“What on earth does the weather have to do with this?” Emeline demanded.

“Mr. March told me this morning that he would be back around three. I saw an opportunity to give the pair of them a few minutes to themselves in a warm house with a nice bed,” Mrs. Chilton huffed. “It was an act of charity. How was 1 to know they’d take a good bit more than a few minutes?”

Anthony struggled to suppress a grin.

“A bed? Mr. March and Aunt Lavinia?” Understanding dawned in Emeline’s eyes. She blushed a very bright pink and did not meet Anthony’s gaze. Then she started to laugh. “Mrs. Chilton, that is outrageous. Did Lavinia know what you intended?”

“No. After she got into the tub I told her I had to go out to fetch some currants for jam. I knew Mr. March would be along shortly, so I left the door open for him. Saw him arrive nearly an hour ago and thought he’d be done by now.”

“Perhaps you made things a little too comfortable for them,” Anthony said dryly.

“Aye.” Mrs. Chilton studied the late-afternoon sky. “Luckily it’s not raining.”

“True, although there is a nip in the air, isn’t there?” Emeline drew the folds of the raggedy cloak around herself. “I’m certainly glad to have this.”

Mrs. Chilton noticed her attire for the first time and frowned. “Where on earth did ye get that old thing?”

Emeline sat down on the bench. “It’s a long story.”

Mrs. Chilton sank down beside her and gazed morosely toward the closed front door of the little house. “Ye may as well tell it. It appears we’ve got plenty of time.”

Tobias settled back against the pillows, one arm behind his head, and cradled Lavinia against his side. He knew it was getting late, but the last thing on earth that he wanted to do was leave the tumbled bed and the woman in his arms. This was the way it should be, he thought. Perhaps someday…

“I paid a call on Hudson this afternoon,” he said.

For a few seconds Lavinia did not respond. Then she propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him. The drowsy sensuality faded from her eyes. Concern replaced it.

“You did not tell me that you intended to speak with Howard today,” she said. “What did you discuss?”

“You.”

“Me?” She sat up straighten, anchoring the sheet across her breasts. Her brows nipped together above her nose. “What about me?”

He touched the silver pendant she wore around her neck.

“I told you that he wants you,” he said. “He’s searching for a replacement for Celeste.”

“And I told you that’s outrageous.”

“Trust me on this matter.”

“How humiliating. I cannot believe that you actually embarrassed me to such a degree.” She scowled ferociously. “What, precisely, did you say to him?”

He pulled her back down onto the pillows and rolled on top of her. Sliding one leg between her soft, warm thighs, he cradled her face between his hands and lowered his mouth to hers.

“I told him that he could not have you,” he said.

Twenty minutes later Lavinia put on a dressing gown to see him out the front door. She kissed him one last time in the shadows of the hall.

“Hurry,” she said. “Mrs. Chilton will return at any moment. We are extremely fortunate that neither she nor Emeline chose to come back before this. I cannot imagine what is keeping them.”

He smiled to himself. He was of the opinion that the unlocked door and the housekeeper’s convenient absence told a different story, but he thought it best not to question his good fortune.

“Until tonight,” he said. “I take it all is in readiness for the grand event?”

“Yes. The gowns are to be delivered in an hour’s time. Joan sent a note around this morning to say that her personal hairdresser will come at five and that she has arranged for the carriage to call for us at eight-thirty.”

He nodded. “Anthony will no doubt show up promptly at nine. I’ll put in my appearance around ten. Will that do?”

“Perfectly.” She practically shoved him down the steps. “Off with you now.”

She shut the door in his face.

Reluctantly, he went down the steps and started toward the end of the lane in search of a hackney.

He saw the small group of familiar faces when he was halfway to the corner. Emeline, Anthony, and Mrs. Chilton strolled toward him with a studied nonchalance. Anthony made a small show of pulling his watch out of his pocket and checking the time.

Tobias ignored him to greet Emeline and Mrs. Chilton.

“Mr. March.” Emeline gave him a gracious smile. “How nice to see you. What an unexpected surprise.”

“A pleasure, Miss Emeline.” He stopped and inclined his head. “Good day, Mrs. Chilton. I understand you went out for currants.”

“I know how much you like currant jam,” she muttered.

“I am certainly very fond of yours,” he agreed. “Indeed, it was very kind of you to dash out for more currants this afternoon just to make a new batch for me. I can only hope that you will feel the urge to make a lot more jam in the future.”

“Depends upon the weather.”

“The weather?”

She gave him a reproving look. “Can’t buy good currants when it’s cold or when it rains. Ye might want to bear that in mind.”

“I’ll remember that.”

At nine-thirty that evening Crackenburne slowly lowered his newspaper and looked at Tobias. “Things are not going well with your newest case, I take it?”

Tobias lounged against the mantel of the club-room fireplace and regarded the flames. “I would happily consign the bloody case to the pit if it were not for the fact that Lavinia is desperate to solve it.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“There’s not much I can do except solve the damned case, prove Hudson is a murderer, and let her see him for what he is.”

“She may not thank you for proving her old family friend a villain.”

Tobias noticed Vale walking toward them across the crowded clubroom. “Probably not.”

“How goes the situation with Pelling?” Crackenburne asked.

“Nothing new there either. Anthony is still trying to find the prostitute Pelling is bedding. She seems to have dropped out of sight. But from what we can determine by talking to the stable lad at the inn, Pelling is merely in Town to see to his business affairs.”

“Nevertheless, you are concerned about his presence here.”

Tobias did not take his eyes off Vale. “I find the fact that two men from Lavinia’s past chose the same month to visit London something of a disturbing coincidence.”

“All coincidences disturb you,” Crackenburne pointed out dryly. “And I must say, one cannot feel comfortable about the man. But let us try for a degree of logic. Has Pelling actually said or done anything to indicate that he has an interest in Lavinia?”

Tobias flexed the hand on top of the mantel. “No.”

“He has not contacted her?”

“No.”

“She has not encountered him since that one casual sighting in Pall Mall?”

“No.”

“Then very likely his business in London is nothing out of the ordinary.” Crackenburne’s brows jiggled. “Mayhap he is shopping for a new wife.”