Don't Look Back

Don't Look Back by Amanda Quick Page B

Book: Don't Look Back by Amanda Quick Read Free Book Online
Authors: Amanda Quick
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Historical
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mean, I want to discuss something important. I have been thinking about my career."
    "What career? You don't have one."
    Lavinia did not look up from the newspaper. A sheet of paper and a pencil lay on the table next to her coffee cup. After much thought, she had concluded that before undertaking the task of writing an advertisement for the newspapers, it would be instructive to study the subject.
    To that end, she had decided to make a list of especially effective words and phrases that appeared in the most attractive advertisements. Her goal was to develop a riveting vocabulary that could be employed in the notices that she herself eventually would write to advertise her services as an investigator.
    The notices in this morning's paper were a varied lot. Most were not particularly arresting, in Lavinia's opinion. There was an announcement of rooms available to let with a pleasant view of the park, and another alerting gentlemen of fashion to the arrival of superior cotton shirting guaranteed to prevent profuse perspiration.
    Far and away the most interesting notice had been placed by a Dr. G. A. Darfield, who offered treatments for widows and married ladies who suffer from delicate nerves and female hysteria. He promised singularly effective remedies especially suited to the female constitution.
    "That is precisely my point," Emeline said. "I do not have a career."
    "Of course you don't." Lavinia pondered the advertisement that offered treatments for female hysteria. "What do you think of the phrase singularly effective remedies}"
    "It sounds too medicinal in nature. Lavinia, you are not listening to me. I am attempting to discuss my future."
    "What is the problem with your future?" Lavinia picked up the pencil and jotted down the words singularly and effective. "I thought it was shaping up rather nicely. Thanks to Joan Dove, we have invitations to two of the most important social events of the Season—the Stillwater ball and the one Joan herself is planning. Which reminds me, we have appointments with Madam Francesca for fittings for our gowns."
    "Yes, I know. But I do not want to talk about balls and fashions." Emeline paused. "I mean to establish myself in a profession, Lavinia."
    "Nonsense." Lavinia frowned at a milliner's advertisement: An excellent selection for discerning persons who are interested only in the most fashionable bonnets and hats. "No gentleman of the ton wants a wife who has established herself in a career. Do you think 1 should describe my services as fashionable?"
    "I don't see how one can describe the business of making confidential inquiries as fashionable."
    "On the contrary. It is obvious that if one wishes to attract an exclusive clientele one must contrive to appear fashionable, regardless of the services one offers.
    No member of the ton can abide the notion of being unfashionable."
    "Lavinia, I do not intend to marry any gentleman who moves in the ton. Indeed, I cannot imagine a more dreadful fate."
    Lavinia wrote down the word fashionable. "Surely you do not intend to marry a farmer. Neither of us was excessively fond of rusticating, as I recall."
    "I have no intention of wedding a farmer. I have decided that I would like to become your associate."
    "What do you mean? You already are my associate. Indeed, we associate daily. What do you think about the phrase effective devices for gentlemen of intrigue, offered in a confidential and discreet manner} That has an interesting ring to it, don't you agree?"
    "Yes." Emeline frowned delicately. "But I have no notion of what it means."
    "Neither do I." Lavinia pursed her lips. "That is a bit of a problem, is it not? Perhaps if I altered the vocabulary somewhat—" She broke off at the muffled sound of the front door opening. "It appears we have a visitor. It is much too early for a social call. Perhaps it is a new client."
    "More likely it is Mr. March." Emeline helped herself to another warm biscuit. "I have noticed that he no longer stands on

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