“I am fine, thank you, Mr. Pierce.” Lavinia gave him a reassuring smile and then looked at the women. You must allow me to introduce you. Miss Richards, Miss Gilway, this is my friend, Mr. March.”

Tobias inclined his head. “My pleasure, ladies.”

They both blushed furiously.

“Mr. March.” Miss Gilway beamed.

“Sir,” Miss Richards whispered.

“And this is Mr. Pierce.” Lavinia swept her hand out in a gracefully dramatic gesture, as if heralding the arrival of a noted actor on stage. “He is the one responsible for Lady Oakes’s enchanting headdress this evening. Surely you recall it, sir?”

“Can’t say that I do,” Tobias admitted.

“Tier after tier of the most intricately fashioned curls piled high in the front?” She held her hands above her forehead in a little pyramid shape to demonstrate. “The chignon in back, braided and coiled with more curls across the top? I vow, Lady Oakes looked very impressive.”

“Huh, certainly.” He had no recollection at all of Lady Oakes’s headdress this evening, but he nodded once at Pierce. “Striking.”

“Thank you, sir.” Pierce made a deep bow and assumed a demeanor of artistic modesty. “It came out rather well, I thought. The row of curls at the top of the chignon and the loop around the coil are my own inventions. I consider it my signature.”

“Mmm.”

Lavinia smiled. “I was delayed returning to my bed chamber because Mr. March and I felt the need to make a few inquiries into Lord Fuller-ton’s accident.”

“I see.” Pierce regarded Tobias with a brief, considering look. Yes, I recall that you did mention that you and your associate occasionally engaged in a rather odd hobby. Something to do with taking commissions for private inquiries, I believe. But, really, you should not have subjected yourself to such a shocking scene, madam. That sort of thing can give a delicate lady such as yourself nightmares.”

The hairdresser’s concern for Lavinia was irritating. It occurred to Tobias that Pierce was one of those men whom young ladies such as Emeline and her friend Priscilla described as so terribly romantic looking.

He was no expert on such matters, he conceded silently, but he was fairly certain that the seemingly negligent arrangement of the curls that tumbled so artlessly over Pierce’s forehead was no random act of nature. Several of Anthony’s acquaintances currently affected a very similar style. Anthony had explained that he had avoided it primarily because it required the use of a dangerously hot curling iron and extended periods of time in front of a mirror.

Pierce appeared to have been interrupted in the act of getting ready for bed. He wore a frilled white shirt and a pair of stylishly pleated trousers. A dashing black ribbon was knotted carelessly around his neck in the tradition set by Byron and the romantic poets. It did little to veil the expanse of bare skin that was exposed in the opening provided by the unfastened shirt.

“What sort of inquiries did you and Mr. March make?” Miss Gilway asked without taking her eyes off Tobias.

“We tried to ascertain that there had been no foul play,” Lavinia said.

“Foul play.” Miss Richards shared a look of delighted horror with her friend. “Never say it was murder?”

“Heavens.” The second woman fanned herself with her hand. “How perfectly dreadful. Who would have thought it?”

“Murder.” Pierce stared at Lavinia. “Are you quite serious, Mrs Lake?”

It dawned on Tobias that he had seen that same fascinated expression on Anthony’s face. It was the reflection of a young man’s enthusiasm for all matters macabre.

“According to Lord Beaumont and the local doctor, it could not possibly have been a case of murder,” Lavinia said neutrally.

“Oh.” Pierce’s excitement evaporated.

The two companions appeared equally disappointed.

“Thank goodness,” Miss Gilway said politely.

“Such a relief,” Miss Richards added in a dutiful tone. “One would hate to think that there was a murderer running about Beaumont Castle.”

They both returned to gazing fixedly at Tobias.

“Indeed,” Lavinia said. “There is no great cause for concern. I’m sure you will all be quite safe in your beds tonight. Don’t you agree, Tobias?”

“Yes.” He took her arm. “Allow me to see you to your door. The hour grows late, and we must leave early in the morning.”

“You are going back to London tomorrow?” Miss Gilway asked quickly. Why so soon?”

“Personal business,” Lavinia said coolly. She smiled at the three. “I will say my farewells now, as you will all no doubt be asleep when I depart.”

“I wish you a very pleasant journey, madam.” Pierce made another graceful little bow. “And remember what I said earlier this evening when you went downstairs to the ball. I would be delighted to take you on as a client. I feel I could do wonders with your hair.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pierce, I will bear that in mind.” She hooked her hand under Tobias’s arm and then hesitated. “By the by, speaking of the business of hairdressing, I have a question for you, sir.”

“I am at your service, madam,” Pierce said gallantly. “Would this question by any chance be in regard to the events of this evening?”

“Just a minor point,” she assured him. “In your career you are required to have a great expertise with wigs and false hair and the like, are you not?”

“Every fashionable young lady simply must possess a false chignon or two at the very least,” he said in a voice that rang with absolute conviction. “After a certain age it is imperative that a woman invest in a variety of full wigs. There is simply no alternative available if she wishes to remain in style.”

“You watched the guests go downstairs to the costume ball tonight. Did you by any chance spot any ladies wearing blond wigs?”

“Blond?” Pierce gave a shudder. “Good God, no, madam, I did not.

“Indeed, I should have been positively horrified if I had seen such a sight.”

Tobias scowled. “Why the devil would you have been shocked? You just said no fashionable woman should be without a couple of wigs.”

“Yes, but not blond ones.” Pierce raised his eyes to the heavens, evidently seeking to be delivered from such stupid inquiries. “Really, sir, it is obvious that you know nothing of style. Allow me to inform you that when it comes to wigs, switches, puffs, and the like, blond hair is very nearly as unfashionable as red.”

There was a short, heavy silence. Everyone looked at Lavinia.

Her very red hair gleamed in the light of the wall sconce.

It occurred to Tobias that the hairdresser had just insulted her.

He fixed Pierce with a hard look.

“I happen to think that Mrs. Lake’s hair suits her perfectly,” he said quietly.

Although he had not raised his voice, Miss Richards and Miss Gilway both flinched. Each took a step back. They were still staring at him, but not with the same peculiar interest they had been displaying. Now they looked as though he had turned into a ravening beast before their eyes.

“Tobias,” Lavinia hissed in a low voice,” stop this at once.”

He was in no mood to stop. He was annoyed. It had been a long, extremely difficult evening.

Pierce seemed oblivious to the fact that he was in some danger.

His attention was concentrated on Lavinia.

“Madam, you really must allow me to pay you a visit after we all return to London,” he urged with what appeared to be genuine concern. “There is so much I could do with you. I vow, you would look splendid in a dark brown wig. Such a dramatic contrast with your green eyes.”


=

Lavinia frowned and raised a hand to touch her hair. “Do you really think so?”

“There is no doubt about it.” Pierce folded one arm across his chest, propped his elbow on it, and stroked his chin in a thoughtful manner. He contemplated Lavinia in the manner of a sculptor studying a half-completed statue. “I can envision the results, and they would be astounding, I assure you. I believe I would use some puffs and a bit of frizzing to add height, of course. You lack the stature required for true elegance.”

“Bloody hell,” Tobias growled. “Mrs. Lake is just the right size, as far as I am concerned.”

Pierce spared him only a fleeting look that somehow managed to sum up every aspect of his appearance and dismiss him out of hand.

The Cut Direct, Tobias thought, grimly amused. From a hairdresser, no less.

“Indeed, sir,” Pierce murmured, “you are hardly an authority on fashion, so you are in no position to judge Mrs. Lake’s potential.”

Tobias contemplated the pleasure of ripping Pierce’s head off his shoulders, but he reluctantly abandoned the prospect when he felt Lavinia’s fingers clench very tightly around his elbow. She was right, he thought. It would be a messy project, and the hour grew late.

“You are so kind to give me your professional opinion, Mr. Pierce.”

Lavinia smiled her brightest, most polished smile. “I shall consider your offer.”

“Allow me to give you my card.” Pierce whipped one out of the pocket of his trousers and presented it to her with a flourish. “Please feel free to send word to that address when you are ready to move to a higher plane of elegance and style. I shall be delighted to fit you into my schedule.”

“Thank you.” Lavinia took the card and inclined her head in farewell to Miss Richards and Miss Gilway. “Good night. I trust you will all have a safe journey home.”

There was a small chorus of farewells. Pierce retreated to his bed chamber. Miss Gilway and Miss Richards retired to the room they shared.

Tobias and Lavinia continued down the hall.