Lavinia looked up at that and found herself staring at the dangling watch fobs again. The effort required to look away this time left her feeling rather breathless.
“Does that answer your question, my dear, dear friend?”
She was imagining this, she thought. Howard was not trying to induce a trance. Perhaps she was becoming a victim of bad nerves.
Returning her attention to her notes, she pressed on determinedly. There was another question she wanted to ask. She had to work hard to remember it.
“The antiquity Celeste stole belonged to Lord Banks,” she said. “Have you ever met him?”
“No, my dear friend.”
The gold seals bobbed gently.
“Do you think that Celeste may have somehow contrived to meet him?”
“I don’t see how that would have been possible.” Howard frowned. “Unless she was acquainted with him before I met her.”
“I had not thought of that possibility.” She tapped the quill on the edge of the ink bottle a few times. “I wonder if that is how she came to know about the bracelet.”
Tap…. tap… tap…
“I cannot answer that, my dear, dear friend____________________”
She suddenly realized that the tip of the quill was striking the bottle in a pattern that matched the swaying movements of the dangling watch fobs. She stopped and hastily put down the pen.
“You are trying to establish the manner in which Celeste learned of the antiquity,” Howard said.
“Yes.” Lavinia closed the journal. This time when she raised her eyes, she avoided his gaze by focusing on a picture that hung on the wall across the room. She tried to appear pensive rather than rude.
There was a short pause. Then, with an almost inaudible sigh, Howard dropped the watch back into his pocket. He began to pace the study.
“I think that the most likely explanation is that her lover informed her of the whereabouts of the bracelet and its value,” he said.
“But if he knew those facts, why did he not steal it himself? Theft is a dangerous business. Why send her to do the deed?”
“I’ll tell you why. The bloody bastard was too cowardly to take the risk of entering the mansion.” Howard’s voice throbbed with fierce emotion. He closed one hand into a fist at his side. “He preferred to force my Celeste to take such risks. He used her and then he murdered her.”
“I’m sorry, Howard. I know this is difficult for you.”
“Forgive me. You are only attempting to help, but when I think about the monster who strangled her I cannot contain my feelings.”
“I understand.”
“Please give me a moment to compose myself.” Howard turned away abruptly and went to look at the spines of the books on a nearby shelf.
After a few seconds he smiled wistfully. “You have not lost your taste for poetry, I see. You were always very fond of it, as I recall.”
It was a great relief not to have to avoid his eyes, she thought. “Emeline says it is a sign that I am a romantic at heart.”
“You have not had much opportunity for romance in your life, have you, my dear?” His voice was low, freighted with understanding and deep sympathy.
“I would not say that.” She tried to keep her own voice light. “My husband was a poet, if you will recall. I thought him wonderfully romantic.”
“I remember meeting him at your wedding.” Howard turned around unexpectedly, trapping her with his eyes. “I did not think that he was the right man for you, but it was not my place to speak of such matters. You seemed so happy at the time.”
“I was happy. For a while.” Instinctively, she touched the silver pendant again. The trapped feeling dissipated once more.
“I was sorry to learn of his untimely death from fever. I know it must have been very difficult for you, following, as it did, so soon in the wake of the loss of your parents.”
“Howard, I think it would be best if we returned to the subject of Celeste’s murder. We really do not have time to reminisce.”
“Do you miss your career as a mesmerist, my dear?” he asked in a strangely gentle tone. “You displayed such a gift for the science while still in the schoolroom. Quite astounding, actually. I cannot but assume that your talents have only grown stronger with the years. May I ask what made you abandon the profession?”
“I really don’t think this is the time or place to-”
She broke off at the sound of familiar bootsteps in the hall. A few seconds later the study door opened abruptly. Tobias glanced at her briefly and then immediately switched his attention to Howard.
“I beg your pardon if I am interrupting a private conversation,” he said.
His tone of voice made it quite clear that he was not the least bit sorry, Lavinia thought. In fact, unless she was sorely mistaken, he was furious.
“Not at all,” Howard said smoothly. “We were discussing the inquiry.”
“I see.” Tobias looked at Lavinia. “I believe we have an appointment.”
“Really? I do not seem to recall-” Something in his expression made her swallow the rest of her words. She summoned what she hoped was a professional sort of smile. It was never a good idea to let the client know that there might be some friction between oneself and one’s partner. “Yes, of course. An appointment. It slipped my mind, sir. Howard, if you will excuse us, Mr. March and I must deal with some pressing issues involving your case.”
Howard hesitated, his gaze switching from Tobias to her and back again. For a second she thought he might prove stubborn. But in the end he inclined his head in a graceful nod.
“Yes, of course.” He gave Tobias an unreadable stare as he went through the opening into the hall. “I shall hope for a report of positive results at your earliest convenience.”
Tobias said nothing until the door in the front hall opened and closed. Only then did he turn back to Lavinia. He crossed the study, planted his hands on top of her desk, and fixed her with an expression that sent a shiver clear to her bones.
“I want your word,” he said in a voice that was as chilling as his expression, “that you will never again allow yourself to be closeted alone with Hudson.”
“I beg your pardon? What on earth-” She broke off on a shocked gasp when he rounded the desk and plucked her out of her chair. “How dare you, sir. Put me down at once.”
“Your word, Lavinia.”
“Why should I make such an outlandish promise?” she sputtered. “You know very well that Howard is an old friend.” An old, dear friend.
“I do not trust him alone with you.”
“I assure you, he is a gentleman.”
“He may be a killer.”
“I do not believe that for one moment.”
“Even if he did not murder his wife, I do not like the way he looks at you.”
She parted her lips to offer another defense of Howard. But the memory of how strangely uneasy she had felt a few minutes earlier when Howard had pinned her with his fathomless gaze stopped the words in her throat. Truth be told, she thought, she did not particularly want to be alone with Howard again, even though she was not sure why.
“Promise me, Lavinia.”
“Oh, very well,” she muttered ungraciously. “If it will make you set me down on my feet and cease acting in this ridiculous fashion, I shall give you my word. Any future conversations with Howard will be conducted with someone else present. Does that satisfy you?”
“Not entirely. The only thing that would truly satisfy me would be for you to drop this case and never come in contact with Hudson again. But I know that is not going to happen, so, for now, I will accept your word that you will not be private with him.”