Late for the Wedding (11 page)

Chapter 10

Tobias and Anthony left an hour later, after having demolished an entire leek-and-potato pie, a large wedge of cheese, a goodly portion of pickled salmon, most of a loaf of bread, and a number of small tarts.

“Mr. March and Mr. Sinclair are certainly blessed with hearty appetites,” Mrs. Chilton said with an air of satisfaction as she cleared away the empty dishes. “A sign of a healthy constitution in a man, I always say.”

“I don’t know how any household can afford to feed two such healthy constitutions day in and day out,” Lavinia muttered. “I do hope they will not get into the habit of dropping by for dinner or supper. It is expensive enough as it is to feed Mr. March his breakfast every morning, to say nothing of those days when he is accompanied by Anthony. I vow, if they both dined with us for every meal they would soon eat us out of house and home.”

“Rubbish.” Emeline picked up her teacup and wrinkled her nose. “It is not that bad and well you know it. Really, Lavinia, you do tend to exaggerate whenever you are discussing Mr. March’s little eccentricities and small foibles.”

“You call that appetite a little eccentricity?” Lavinia swept out a hand to indicate the few crumbs that remained on the plates. “For heaven’s sake, I do believe that Tobias ate every single one of Mrs. Chilton’s currant tarts.”

Mrs. Chilton shook her head and hoisted the tray. “Expect he’ll be asking me to go out for more currants this week. Mr. March’s taste for currants seems to know no bounds.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that.” Lavinia removed her low half boots and slid her stocking-clad feet into a pair of comfortable slippers. “Indeed, he consumes them as though he believes them to be some sort of invigorating tonic.”

Emeline abruptly sputtered and coughed. “Sorry,” she mumbled into a napkin. “Difficulty swallowing the tea.”

Mrs. Chilton made an odd noise and hurried out the door.

One of these days, Lavinia thought, she would discover what it was about currants that created such an effect on everyone else in the household.

“I vow, I am exhausted,” she said. “Vale’s carriage had excellent springs and was quite comfortable; nevertheless, it was a very long trip back from Beaumont Castle. I believe I shall go to bed early tonight. Tomorrow will be an extremely busy day.”

Emeline watched her closely for a moment and then slowly put down her cup. “Were you enjoying the house party before the dreadful events occurred?”

“Oh, yes. With the exception of a rather upsetting episode involving a change of rooms, it was all quite festive. I was looking forward to the rest of the activities. That is, until I discovered Cleopatra in Tobias’s bedchamber.”

Emeline stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“Our new client, Aspasia Gray, came dressed as Cleopatra for the evening.”

“I understand, but what was she doing in Mr. March’s bedchamber?”

“An excellent question—one I asked, myself.” Lavinia drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair. “They are old friends, as Tobias told you a while ago.”

“The sort of old friends who meet in each other’s bedchambers?” Emeline asked, voice rising.

“Tobias assures me that the two of them never had that sort of connection.”

“I see.” Emeline was troubled. “Do you believe him?”

Lavinia glanced at her, surprised by the question. “Yes, of course. Tobias has his little eccentricities and small foibles, as you just pointed out, but lying outright to my face about a matter such as this is not one of them.”

Emeline’s brow cleared. She looked knowing. “The two of you do seem to have established a certain degree of trust.”

“Mmm. It is quite true that Tobias will answer my questions honestly.” Lavinia exhaled deeply. “The problem, I have discovered, is that I must first ask the
right
questions.”

“I suppose it is only to be expected that a man of Mr. March’s age and experience of the world would have some private matters in his past that he might wish to remain confidential.”

“It is also a fact that a man of Mr. March’s nature is strongly inclined to keep his secrets,” Lavinia muttered.

“You are rather worried about this new case, are you not?”

“With good cause. We are dealing with a killer.”

“Yes, of course, but I have the impression that the links to Mr. March’s past have compounded your concerns.”

Lavinia pursed her lips. “There are several aspects of this situation that bother me. Our client is one of them.”

“What is it about Aspasia Gray that worries you?”

“Most likely it has something to do with the fact that the first time I met her, she had her arms around Tobias’s neck.”

“Never say that Mr. March was
kissing
her?” Emeline was appalled. “But you just told me that you were not alarmed by the nature of their friendship.”

“According to Tobias, she was attempting to kiss him. A token of her gratitude or some such nonsense. He assures me he was not a willing participant in the act and, as I said, I believe him.”

Emeline relaxed slightly. “I see. One can understand the kiss, I suppose. Mrs. Gray behaved in an extremely forward fashion, presuming on their past acquaintance, and poor Mr. March simply did not know how to deal with the situation in a gentlemanly fashion.”

“In all the months that I have known
poor Mr. March,
I have not yet seen him in a situation that he could not handle,” Lavinia said. “In a gentlemanly fashion or otherwise.”

“Yes, well, I quite agree that he never seems to be without resources and he is certainly very competent.”

Lavinia brooded on her slippers for a moment or two.

“I trust Tobias,” she said eventually. “But I do not trust Aspasia Gray.”

“Well, it is one of Mr. March’s axioms that one can never entirely trust the client, is it not?”

“I am more than willing to apply that rule in this case.” She touched the tips of her slippers together. “But I am afraid that Tobias may not be following his own advice when it comes to Aspasia.”

“Calm yourself, Lavinia. Mr. March is nothing if not cautious about such things. I am certain that he will not allow his personal feelings for Mrs. Gray to get in the way of sound judgment.”

Lavinia tapped her slippers together. “We can only hope that will prove to be true. In any event, there is very little to be done about the problem at this juncture. There is no getting around the fact that Tobias cannot avoid this case, even if he were so inclined.”

Emeline nodded knowingly. “And so long as he is involved in it, you must be also.”

“I cannot allow him to investigate this affair alone.”

“I understand.” Emeline started to raise her cup and then paused with the vessel in midair. She studied Lavinia with an uncertain expression for a few seconds, and then her resolve appeared to firm. “As long as we are discussing matters of a somewhat personal nature involving Mr. March, there is something I feel compelled to discuss with you.”

Lavinia braced herself. “If this is about your connection with Mr. Sinclair, could we wait until some other time? I know that you are in love with him. However, he appears to be a responsible and entirely honorable young man, and I very much doubt that he will ask for your hand until he feels himself to be comfortably situated. Given his rather precarious career as an assistant to Tobias, that may take some time. Until then, I really do feel that it would be best if you—”

“This is not about my relationship with Anthony,” Emeline interrupted with surprising forcefulness. “It is about yours with Mr. March.”

Lavinia stared at her. She blinked a couple of times and finally managed to recover herself. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Please, I am no longer a child. Furthermore, our sojourn in Rome as companions to that dreadful Mrs. Underwood gave me an excellent education in worldly matters. I am well-aware that you and Mr. March have formed a very intimate connection.”

“Ah. Yes. Well.” She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. This was ridiculous. She was a woman of the world, after all. She cleared her throat. “The exact nature of my association with Tobias is an extremely personal matter, Emeline.”

“Yes, of course.” Emeline’s gaze did not waver. “The thing is, although it is certainly
personal,
it is not exactly a
secret,
if you take my point.”

“It would be somewhat difficult to miss your point. Where is this conversation headed?”

Emeline took another deep breath. “It has not escaped my notice that you and Mr. March are spending more and more time in each other’s company of late.”

“Our professional partnership requires a close association at times.” Lavinia strove to achieve an off-putting, suitably repressive tone, in the faint hope that it might discourage Emeline. “We must consult frequently on various inquiries. You know that very well.”

Emeline did not look put off or discouraged. Her fine dark brows formed a determined line. “I feel that I must be frank. We both know that it was not your professional relationship that required the two of you to travel together to Beaumont Castle.”

“I am rather tired.” Lavinia rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “Could you please tell me why you are suddenly so concerned about my association with Mr. March? For heaven’s sake, I thought you liked the man. Indeed, if memory serves, you thought a good deal more highly of him the first time we encountered him than I did.”

“I
do
like him. Very much.” Emeline put down her teacup. “It is not my feelings for him that we are discussing.”

“Mmm.”

“Aunt Lavinia, tell me the truth. You are in love with Mr. March, are you not?”

“Mmm.”

“And he appears to be in love with you.”

“Mmm.” Lavinia glanced toward the door, wondering if she could plead sudden illness and make a dash for the stairs.

“Everyone knows why two people who have formed an intimate connection would accept an invitation to a large house party.”

“Indeed.” Lavinia clutched the arms of her chair. “Long walks in the fresh air. The chance to commune with nature. The opportunity to enjoy jolly rustic entertainments.”

“I am not that naive, Aunt Lavinia, and well you know it. It is common knowledge that house parties provide opportunities for ladies and gentlemen who are involved in romantic liaisons to be private with each other. Do not try to tell me that that is not precisely what you and Mr. March planned to do at Beaumont Castle.”

“Whatever plans Mr. March and I might have made in regard to our personal entertainment were drastically altered by Lord Fullerton’s demise, I assure you.”

“I understand. But the point is, you did have some plans.”

Embarrassment sparked into annoyance. “Accepting the invitation to Beaumont Castle was Tobias’s idea, not mine.”

“But you agreed to the journey,” Emeline insisted. “You must have known what it would entail.”

“Enough.”
Lavinia pushed herself up out of the chair and went to stand at the window. “What is the aim of this exceedingly personal interrogation?”

“Forgive me, but I feel I must be blunt,” Emeline said quietly. “I expected that when you returned from Beaumont’s house party, you and Mr. March would announce your intention to wed.”

Lavinia’s mouth went dry. The floor suddenly seemed to shift under her feet. She reached out and grasped a fistful of drapery to steady herself.

“You expected
what
?” she finally managed.

“You heard me,” Emeline said. “I assumed that Mr. March would ask you to marry him in the course of your visit to the Beaumont estate.”

Lavinia whirled around. “Whatever put that notion into your head?”

“I have lived with you for several years, and I feel I know you well enough to state without hesitation that this connection you have formed with Mr. March is unique.” Emeline rose to her feet. “I realize that you have had one or two minor flirtations over the years, but none of them amounted to much. Certainly none of those other gentlemen was even allowed to get into the habit of joining us for breakfast on a frequent basis. You never went off to house parties with any of them.”

“Emeline—”

“You have as much as admitted that you are in love with Mr. March, and he appears to be quite fond of you. I had every right to assume that this connection would lead to marriage.”

“Every right?”
Lavinia realized she was crumpling the drapery. Very carefully, she released the fabric and smoothed the folds. “Yes, well, your assumption was incorrect.”

Emeline’s expression became one of astonishment mingled with outrage. “Do you mean to say that Mr. March has not even mentioned the subject of marriage?”

“No, he has not.” Lavinia elevated her chin. “Furthermore, there is no reason why he should do so. Indeed, I do not expect an offer of marriage from him.”

“You cannot mean that, Lavinia.”

“The thing is, Emeline, our current arrangement suits both Mr. March and myself very well.”

Emeline spread her arms. “But as it stands, your arrangement is little more than an unconventional liaison, an
affair
. It cannot go on forever.”

The note of censure in her tone was extremely irritating, Lavinia thought. “I do not see why it cannot continue indefinitely. A great many ladies engage in long-standing affairs.”

“Not you, Lavinia.”

“Bloody hell, you need not look so scandalized.” Feeling the need for another medicinal glass of sherry, she stalked back to the cabinet and yanked the door open. “You know very well that, although a lady of your years and status would be ruined by such an
unconventional liaison,
as a widow I may do as I please in such matters.”

“I am well-aware that Society has a different set of rules for each of us,” Emeline said stiffly. “But that does not mean that it is proper for you to bestow your . . . your favors upon Mr. March without some understanding concerning the future of your relationship.”

“Good lord, Emeline, you make me sound like a member of the demimonde.”

Emeline had the grace to blush. “I did not mean to imply any such thing. But I must tell you that I assumed from the outset that Mr. March’s intentions were honorable.”