Jayne Krentz - Don’t Look Back

Tobias was, indeed, dangerous, and some part of him must have sensed it years ago, she thought, even if he had never consciously acknowledged it. That was why he had taught himself such a degree of self-mastery. She wondered if he would ever come to the realization that his ability to control and suppress the forces at work within him only made him all the more of a sorcerer.

“Stay back,” Pelling shouted, voice rising. He sounded completely unhinged now. “Stay back, damn you.”

He raised the pistol and fired.

“No,” Lavinia screamed.

Almost simultaneously, a second shot thundered out of the mists.

Pelling jerked and toppled over the edge of the quay. Lavinia heard a muffled splash.

“Tobias.” She ran forward. “Are you all right?”

Tobias looked at her from the heart of the invisible storm that appeared to seethe around him. He held the pistol at his side. For an instant she was sure she glimpsed dangerous currents of energy in his eyes.

Just your imagination. Get hold of yourself.

“Yes,” Tobias said softly. “I am all right. His aim was off. I think you shook his nerve.”

She looked down and saw Pelling floating facedown in the river. She knew why his aim had been off. It had not been her doing. He had been terrified by the sight of Tobias sweeping toward him out of the fog.

Without another word she went straight into Tobias’s arms. He caught her close and held her against him for a very long time.

It was later, after Tobias had pulled Pelling’s body from the water and lashed it to the back of the cart, that Lavinia thought about the warehouse.

“I want to have a quick look inside,” she said.

Tobias walked toward the front of the cart to untie the horse. “Why?”

“He tried to make me go in there.” She looked at the closed door. “I need to know what is behind that door.”

He hesitated and then retied the reins.

Without further argument, he went to the door of the warehouse and opened it. She walked in slowly, giving her eyes a chance to adjust to the dim light.

The interior was crowded with a number of coiled ropes, empty crates, and shipping casks.

Howard Hudson lay, bound and gagged, in the corner.

Lavinia hurried forward and removed the strip of cloth that sealed his lips. He groaned and sat up so that Tobias could cut the ropes around his wrists.

“Thought you two would never get here,” he said.

That night, after Tobias had dealt with the authorities as only he could, thanks to his many connections, they gathered in the parlor together with Emeline, Anthony, Joan, and Vale.

Her study, Lavinia had quickly realized, was much too small for such a crowd, and it certainly was not impressive enough for the likes of Lord Vale. Not that the parlor was much grander, she thought uneasily. But at least there was more space.

In spite of not yet having received any fees to cover the expenses of the affair, she poured everyone an extra large glass of her precious sherry. Surviving a close brush with a murderer inspired one to be generous, she thought.

“All three of them wanted the Blue Medusa,” she said, sinking down onto the sofa alongside Joan. “Each for a different reason. Howard, I regret to say, actually put some credence in the legends surrounding it. He wanted it for his experiments. Celeste hoped to sell it in order to purchase another rung on the social ladder. And Pelling, who had become quite demented, had concluded that it would give him power over the ghost of the aunt he had murdered in his youth.”

Joan shuddered. “It was a near thing. How fortunate that Mr. March arrived at the Banks mansion just as you were forced into Pelling’s closed hackney.”

“Indeed.” Emeline took a fortifying sip of sherry. “I cannot bear to think about what might have happened had he not seen you and managed to follow you.”

Vale contemplated Tobias, who occupied the chair across from him. “After this incident you will be obliged to concede that there is such a thing as coincidence, eh, March? Joan is right: If you had not happened to call at the Banks mansion this afternoon, you would never have seen Mrs. Lake getting into the hackney.”

There was a short pause during which everyone took a swallow of sherry.

Tobias turned his glass between his palms and looked at Lavinia. He smiled slightly.

“It was not luck or coincidence that took me to the Banks house this afternoon,” he said quietly. “I followed Lavinia because she had left a note informing me of where she had gone. Just as she had promised.”

She met his eyes and saw a reflection of the same absolute certainty of knowledge that had coalesced deep inside her. Regardless of the clashes of will that lay ahead-clashes that were inevitable, given their strong temperaments-a bond had formed between them. Tobias was far more than her lover and occasional partner. The metaphysical link was now so strong that she knew it could never be severed.

“How unfortunate that you are left with no client,” Joan said with a good deal of sympathy. “I understand that Mr. Hudson has postponed payment indefinitely due to a lack of funds, and Mr. Nightingale, of course, has canceled his arrangement with you.”

Lavinia looked up from her musings. “Oh, I have every hope of salvaging at least one of our clients. Mrs. Rushton, to be precise.”

Emeline frowned. “But she will pay you only if you return the relic and arrange a profitable sale.”

“I hope to take care of that little outstanding matter first thing in the morning,” Lavinia said.

They all looked at her.

Vale’s eyes glittered in the firelight. “Are you telling us that you know where Celeste Hudson hid the bracelet?”

“Yes,” Lavinia said. “As it happens, I was on my way to collect it this afternoon when Pelling got in my way.”

Dr. Darfield looked up from a journal of accounts when Lavinia and Tobias were ushered into his office. He was not wearing his exotic blue robes, Lavinia noticed. Instead, he was attired in a manner more appropriate to a successful man of business: fashionably pleated trousers, a well-cut coat, and an intricately knotted cravat.

He studied his visitors for a long moment and then he closed the leather-bound volume and rose slowly to his feet. He gestured toward two chairs.

“You have come for the bracelet, I assume,” he said to Lavinia.

“Yes.” She sat down and arranged her skirts. “This is my partner, Mr. March. He has been involved in this affair from the start.”

She was not surprised when Tobias ignored the offer of a chair. He moved to his favorite location in any room that contained a person whom he did not know or trust. He stood with his back to the window, watching Darfield.

Darfield nodded, his expression somber, quietly resigned. “I have been expecting you since I heard about Pelling’s death.”

He crossed the room to a bookcase, removed several volumes from the middle shelf, and opened a small safe set into the paneled wall. He removed an object wrapped in black velvet and went back to his desk.

Without a word, he untied the cord that bound the small pouch and spread the folds flat on the desk. A large, intricately worked gold bracelet of curious design gleamed softly against the black velvet. A strange blue cameo was set into the center of the band.

Lavinia got to her feet and went to the desk, impelled by the sheer wonder of such an ancient object. The pierced work had been done with exquisite artistry. The repeating pattern of entwined snakes was so finely detailed that the bracelet appeared to have been fashioned of gold lace rather than cut and shaped from metal.