But there were limits to the freedoms that were permitted, he reflected. And divorce was almost impossible. Joan was right, there was no escape once the bargain had been struck. He had to admit that, until this moment, he had not given much thought to the very real physical, emotional, and financial risks involved for a woman in marriage.

“I understand.” He lounged against the edge of a Roman sarcophagus and folded his arms. “Very well, I concede that there are other matters involved besides money and estates. But where does that leave us in this case? From all accounts, the families seemed quite pleased with the marriage arrangements. I suppose it is possible the young ladies might have had some doubts, but do you really believe that they had the knowledge and means to hire themselves a professional killer?”

“No. Mrs. Lake and I feel that the people who commissioned the deaths are likely older and, more to the point, financially independent. They are persons who each have a strong interest in the outcome of the marriage. I think it is entirely possible that the three who hired the killer may know each other quite well.”

He was intrigued. “Why do you say that?”

“Partly because of the strong similarity in the reasons for these three murders. It seems likely that a professional killer catering to those who move in Society would, of necessity, be forced to rely on word of mouth to advertise his or her services.”

“Ah, yes, the problem of advertising.” He smiled slightly. “I had not thought of that.”

“Thus far I have collected the names of older women in each of the three families affected who would have had very strong feelings about the outcome of each marriage. Each possesses a will of iron.

“And each controls a significant fortune.”

“These are high-ranking ladies of the ton?”

“Yes.”

He spread his hands. “How would a lady who spends her time in Society’s drawing rooms and ballrooms go about finding a professional killer whom she could trust with such a dangerous business?

“I will be the first to agree that the women who move in Society often have their quirks and eccentricities, but they do not generally consort with members of the criminal class.”

“I shall let Mr. March and Mrs. Lake work that one out. In the meantime, before I speak to them about these three names, I would very much like to find a link between them. I have established that two are lifelong friends who play cards together every Saturday and go about together frequently. But the third does not reside in London. I do not know if she is even acquainted with the other two.”

“Who are these three women you suspect might have hired the murderer?”

“Lady Huxford and Lady Ferring are the two who are constant companions. But the third is Mrs. Stockard. She is not fond of life in London and she spends very little time here. She lives on one of her son’s estates.”

“Well, well, well,” he said softly.

She turned away from her examination of some ancient Roman coins and peered intently at him. “What is it, Vale?”

“I do not know if it means anything, but for what it’s worth, I saw Mrs. Stockard together with Lady Huxford and Lady Ferring in Bath last summer while I was conducting my researches on the mosaic floors of a Roman villa.”

“Joan came toward him, her expression brightening with anticipation. You saw them together? Did they seem to be good friends?”

“You know me, my dear, I have little patience with Society and those who move in it. But Bath is such a small place that it is impossible not to be aware of members of the ton who happen to be in town.”

She smiled knowingly. “And furthermore, it is your nature to be observant, sir. Tell me, what did you learn about those three ladies?”

“Not a great deal. I encountered them on the street on several occasions and once or twice in the bookshops.” He hesitated. “But I got the impression from some things that were said that all three ladies were in the habit of meeting in Bath quite regularly to take the waters. I believe they have done so for many years.”

Tobias strolled into the study shortly after five o’clock, just as Lavinia was considering a second glass of medicinal sherry. She rose quickly, relieved to see him.

“There you are,” she said. “I have been very worried. Do sit down, Tobias. I will pour you a glass of sherry.”

“Never mind the sherry.” He showed her the cloth-wrapped package that he carried under his arm. “I have concluded that when we are involved in a case together, I require a somewhat stronger restorative.”

She frowned at the package. “What is that?”

“French brandy.” He set the package on her desk and removed the cloth to reveal a dark bottle. “Smiling Jack was kind enough to allow me to purchase some from his new shipment.”

She watched with interest as he opened the bottle and poured a large amount of brandy into a glass. “Is it smuggled, do you think?”

He raised a brow. “Given Jack’s strong aversion to paying customs duties, I think we can be certain of it.” He downed a swallow of the brandy and looked at her. “Frankly, I did not bother to inquire into its origins. Would you care for some?”

“No, thank you, I believe I will stay with my sherry.” She went to the cabinet, picked up the decanter, and poured out a judicious amount. She studied the level of spirits in the glass for a few seconds and added some more. It had been a trying day, she reflected.

Tobias took his favorite armchair and propped his left ankle on a footstool. She settled back into her own chair.

“Very well,” she said. “Out with it. What did you do with Sweet Ned?”

“I turned him over to Jack.”

Startled, she lowered her glass. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“The boy needs to learn a more reliable trade.”

“Well, yes, but what on earth will Jack do? Teach him the art of tavern-keeping?”

“No. At least, not straightaway. As it happens, thanks to the connections he made in the course of his old profession, Jack is well acquainted with a number of ships’ captains. They are always in the market for new crew members. As we speak, Sweet Ned is on his way to a glorious new career at sea.”

“From what you’ve told me of your friend Jack, poor Ned has no doubt become a member of a smuggler’s crew.”

“Look on the bright side. If all goes well, the lad will earn enough to allow him to retire in a few years. You and I, my dear, can only hope to do the same.”

“And if things do not go well?”

“Do not concern yourself on that account. Jack will make certain that our Ned sails with an experienced captain who knows his business.”

She tilted her head against the back of the chair. “He is so young, Tobias. Just a boy, really. Probably alone in the world.”

“Do not waste any sentiment on Ned. He thought nothing of taking money to threaten you with a knife. In another year or two, he might have been willing to stick that same blade between your ribs for a similar fee.”

“Oh, I really don’t think”

“Trust me on this, Lavinia. Sweet Ned has all the makings of a professional villain.”

“Perhaps, But when one considers that he no doubt grew up in the stews with no prospects for the future, one can only feel pity.”

“I assure you, pity was most definitely not the emotion I experienced when I found him with you in that lane this afternoon.”

She smiled. “Do not tell me that you had no soft sentiments whatsoever. You could have taken him to Bow Street, where he would no doubt have been clapped in irons and later hung. Instead, you turned him over to Smiling Jack.”

“For all the good it will do.” Tobias looked down into the brandy.

“The lad is still likely to end his life dancing on the end of a rope.”

“If he does,” she said gently, “it will not be because you sent him there.”

He took another swallow of brandy and said nothing. But some of the grimness eased from his expression.