morning, driving himself in his curricle with only his groom beside him and his trunk securely strapped behind. Dominic and Zelah were there to see him off, looking the picture of domestic felicity. He did not begrudge his twin his happiness, but despite Zelah’s words he could not believe he would ever be so fortunate. He had met so many women, flirted with hundreds, but not one save Zelah had ever touched his heart. With a sigh he settled himself more comfortably in the seat and concentrated on the winding road. He would have to marry at some point and provide an heir, but not yet, not yet.
Miss Susannah Prentess wandered into the morning room of her Bath residence to find her aunt sitting at a small gilded table whose top was littered with papers. She had a pen in hand and was currently engaged in adding up a column of figures, so she did not look up when her niece addressed her.
‘How much did we make last night, ma’am?’ Mrs Wilby finished her calculations and wrote a neat tally at the bottom of the sheet before replying.
‘Almost two hundred pounds, and once we have taken off the costs, supper, candles and the like, I think we shall clear one-fifty easily. Very satisfying, when one thinks it is not yet March.’
Susannah regarded her with admiration.
‘How glad I am you discovered a talent for business, Aunt Maude.’
A blush tinted Mrs Wilby’s faded cheek.
‘Nonsense, it is merely common sense and a grasp of figures, my love, something which you have inherited, also.’
‘And thank goodness for that. It certainly helps when it comes to fleecing our guests.’
‘Susannah, we do not fleece anyone! It is merely that we are better at measuring the odds.’ The blush was replaced by a more indignant rose. ‘You make it sound as if we run a gaming house, which is something I could never condone.’
Susannah was quick to reassure her.
‘No, no, of course not, I was teasing you. We merely invite our friends here for an evening of cards, and if they lose a few shillings—’
‘Or guineas!’
‘Or guineas,’ she conceded, her eyes twinkling, ‘then so much the better for us.’
Aunt Maude looked at her uncertainly, then clasped her hands and burst out, ‘But I cannot like it, my love. To be making money in such a way—’
‘We do not make very much, Aunt, and some of our guests go away the richer for the evening.’
‘Yes, but overall—oh, my dear, I cannot think that it is right, and I know our neighbours here in the Royal Crescent do not approve.’
‘Pho, a few valetudinarian spoil-sports. Our card parties are very select.’ She sank down on to a sofa. ‘I agree, Royal Crescent would not be my first choice of a place to live, but Uncle’s will was quite explicit, I cannot touch my fortune or sell this house until I am five and twenty. Another two years.’
‘You could let it out, and we could find something smaller …’
The wistful note was not lost on Susannah, but she shook her head, saying firmly, ‘No, this house suits my requirements very well. The location lends our parties a certain distinction.’ She added mischievously, ‘Besides, I am a great heiress, and Royal Crescent is perfectly in keeping with my status.’
Aunt Maude looked down, gazing intently at the nails of one white hand.
‘I thought, when you asked me to come and live with you, it was so that you could go about a little.’
‘But I do go about, Aunt. Why, what with the Pump Room and the theatre, the balls and assemblies, we go about a great deal.’
‘But I thought you wanted to find a husband.’
Susannah laughed at that.
‘No, no, that was never my intention. I am very happy with my single state, thank you.’
‘But at three-and-twenty you are in danger of becoming an old maid.’
‘Then that is what I shall do,’ she replied, amused. ‘Or mayhap I shall accept an offer from one of the charming young men who grace our card parties.’
‘If only you would,’ sighed Mrs Wilby.
‘Mr Barnabus proposed to me yesterday.’ She saw her aunt’s hopeful look and quickly shook her head. ‘I refused him, of course. I tried very hard not to let it come to a proposal, but he would not be gainsaid.’
‘Oh dear, was he very disappointed?’
‘Yes, but he will get over it.’
‘I hope to goodness he does not try to end it all, like poor Mr Edmonds.’
Susannah laughed.
‘I hope you do not think my refusing Jamie Edmonds had anything to do with his falling into the river.’
‘I heard he jumped from Bath Bridge …’
‘My dear Aunt, he was drinking in some low tavern near the quay, as young men are wont to do, and then tried to walk the parapet on the bridge, missed his footing and tumbled off on to a coal barge.’ Her lips twitched at the look of disappointment on her aunt’s face. ‘I know it to be true, Aunt, because Jamie told me himself, when I next saw him in Milsom Street.’
‘But everyone said—’
‘I know what everyone said, but that particular rumour was spread by one of Mr Edmonds’s friends, Mr Warwick. He was angry because I would not take an IOU from him last week and sent him home before supper.’
‘Ay, yes, I remember Mr Warwick.’ Mrs Wilby nodded. ‘It was quite clear that he was drinking too much and was in no fit state to be in a respectable establishment.’
‘And in no fit state to play at cards, which is more to the point,’ added Susannah. ‘But he did make me a very handsome apology later, so he is forgiven.’ She jumped up. ‘But enough of this. I am for the Pump Room, then back via Duffields, to find something to read. Will you come with me?’
‘Gladly. I hope we shall find old friends at the Pump Room to converse with.’
Susannah’s eyes twinkled wickedly.
‘And I hope we shall find new friends to invite to our next card party!’
Chapter Two
The damp February weather made for a dirty journey north, but Jasper spent only one night on the road and arrived at Mrs Barnabus’s house at Hotwells shortly after mid-day. He was ushered in by a butler whose sombre mien led him to wonder if he had maligned his relative, and she was in fact at death’s door. However, when he was shown into the elegant drawing room, Mrs Barnabus appeared to be in her usual state of health. She came forwards to meet him, hands held out and shawls trailing from her thin shoulders.
‘Markham, my dear cousin, how good of you
