chaise had been wearing a blue walking dress, plain but good and not unfashionable. A very superior governess, perhaps. He did not envy her students if they tried her patience. She had a tightly reined temper and that momentary loss of control had surely been as unfamiliar to her as it was unexpected for him. And yet there had been something about her, something familiar, which was unlikely. He knew no governesses, nor did he have to tolerate ladies of uncertain temper. Why he hadn’t had his face slapped for his presumption on the hilltop he had no idea. Possibly she had been completely taken aback, because she was most certainly not a lady given to promiscuous kissing, that was plain enough.
He would call at Laura Place tomorrow, Giles thought, moving back from the window as he shrugged out of his comfortable old riding coat.
But, no, damn it, he realised, one hand at the knot of his neckcloth. I can’t very well do that without revealing that I followed her home, which might be enough to alarm any right-thinking female.
He unwound the now-crumpled muslin from around his neck as he considered the problem. This would take some thought if he were to satisfy his mysteriously insistent curiosity about who she was and why kissing her had made him feel he had...had come home, of all the bizarre impressions. But he could manage it with a discreet enquiry of Bath’s Master of Ceremonies at the Assembly Rooms who would have all the well-bred residents and visitors in the city at his fingertips. After all, how difficult could securing an introduction to the Laura Place ladies be, compared to identifying French spies in the Portuguese court or riding through Spain behind enemy lines?
A knock at the door heralded the arrival of porters with cans of hot water and, on their heels, Dryden, pin neat as usual, despite a day spent in an open vehicle. ‘My apologies for my tardiness, my lord. There was a tree across the road at Cherhill, as no doubt you encountered for yourself. I will lay out your evening clothes directly.’
‘I will be dining here in my room and not going out, Dryden. A clean shirt and my banyan will do.’ He had been in the country for only two weeks, but the volume of correspondence was threatening to take over his life. He would need a secretary soon, but for now he would have to tackle the most urgent matters himself. ‘However, I will need your very best work tomorrow morning, Dryden.’
‘The Marquess? Of course, my lord. The new waistcoat, I presume?’
Father, secretary, correspondence, Laura Place ladies.
Giles made a mental list as he began to strip off his dusty riding clothes. Not the most thrilling of programmes and, in places, downright difficult, but time enough to discover how to make England interesting.
He added, Clubs, mistress, decide where to live. Then, A wife.
Giles grimaced. He was not looking forward to the Marriage Mart.
* * *
‘I am certain that taking the waters does me a great deal of good, you know.’ Aunt Phoebe lowered her voice and murmured, ‘It keeps one so regular! And I meet all my friends and acquaintances here every day.’ She fluttered her fingers at a pair of mature ladies on the far side of the room. ‘The Misses Prescott. And of course it is the perfect excuse for seeing who has come to town and for exchanging the latest news. I come almost every morning.’
Oh, dear, Laurel thought. That might become rather tedious.
But she smiled and nodded politely to the Misses Prescott and reminded herself that a little boring routine was well worthwhile for such a change of scene and her aunt’s kindness.
Phoebe settled herself at one of the little tables in the Pump Room and signalled to a waiter for two glasses of the water. ‘And you may save yourself the effort of tactfully not telling me that I am a shallow and frivolous creature, for I have a full hand of excuses,’ she said, straightening her bonnet. ‘And the strongest is that this is quite the best way of judging the new company before one finds oneself on nodding terms with some vulgarian or a crashing bore.
‘Look at that woman, for example,’ she added with a discreet gesture towards a slender brunette accompanied by a maid and a young woman who might be her daughter. ‘I saw her yesterday and thought what style and elegance she has. But she treats her unfortunate maid as though the girl is a drudge, and a foolish one at that, however charming and caressing her manner is to her daughter and other ladies.’
Laurel took an incautious gulp of water and almost spluttered it back out again. ‘This is disgusting,’ she whispered.
‘I know,’ Phoebe agreed. ‘But it does one so much good. Apparently it is full of the most wonderful minerals and salts. You should drink a glass a day.’
The benefit she derived was probably from the exercise involved in walking to the Pump Room and back daily and the stimulation of seeing all the new arrivals, Laurel decided, but kept the thought to herself.
Phoebe was still looking around the room, nodding greetings to old acquaintances. She gave Laurel a discreet nudge in the ribs. ‘Oh, my goodness, now there is a handsome creature just come in! And half the age of most of the gentlemen.’
Ouch. Phoebe’s elbows were sharp. ‘Who? Where? Oh.’ Goodness, indeed. The man who had just strolled into the room was tall, blond, tanned, beautifully barbered and elegantly attired—and all too familiar, despite his changed appearance. Laurel could not decide whether her blood was rushing to her face in a blush or draining to her toes in embarrassed alarm. Or possibly simply overheating with a dismaying and inconvenient physical attraction.
‘Why, that is the gentleman I told you about, the one who showed me the way over the Downs when the tree had blocked the road. Only then he looked as though he could scarcely afford a decent coat, let alone a pair of boots like that,’ she managed. ‘And he has had his hair cut. Phoebe? What is it?’
Her aunt was staring at the man as he came closer, her expression one of complete dismay. ‘The last person I would have expected to see in Bath... It must be him because, good heavens, he is the perfect image of his grandfather. I had no idea he was in the country. Of all the unfortunate things to have happened, I cannot believe you did not recognise him. Or perhaps not, if you had never met his grandfather because he has changed so much... With any luck he will not notice us.’
‘Phoebe, what are you talking about? That is not someone we know. Is it?’ The gentleman had seen them, she realised, and must have recognised her from yesterday. He began to make his way across the room towards them, this time with obvious intent. He kept his expression politely neutral, although as he came closer she saw a crease developing between his brows, so dark in contrast to his sun-bleached hair.
Phoebe made an abrupt gesture with her hand as though to ward him off. ‘Oh, dear, I wonder what is the right thing to do—’
‘Madam.’ He arrived in front of them before she could finish and made a slight bow. ‘Forgive me for approaching you without an introduction, but I believe I had the honour of being of some slight assistance to this lady yesterday and wished to enquire if she is quite recovered from her journey.’
‘You are Lord Revesby,’ Phoebe said, peering up at him like a flustered little bantam hen, not at all sure whether to ruffle her feathers at this fox in her hen coop or simply fly away cackling in alarm. ‘But why did you not introduce yourself to my niece when you met her yesterday, instead of waiting until now?’
‘Yes,
