be as well. There was a party of young gentlemen enjoying their supper, and by the sound of it they were drinking a little too much wine.
One of them was staring at her very hard, and she drew her eyes away, annoyed that he should look at her in such a way. It was rude and made her uncomfortable, for she had not put up her hair; now that she had removed her fashionable bonnet, the hair fell about her face and tumbled down her back in a riot of untidy curls. She had seen Lady Wainwright glance at it twice, and put her hand up defensively, wishing that she had scraped it back in her usual style.
As the evening progressed, the noise from the young gentlemen increased and Jo was glad when her aunt said that they ought to go upstairs. She was not in the least tired, but she could amuse herself with her scribbling for an hour or so before she slept.
One of the young gentlemen had left the dining parlour, but came back in as she and her aunt were leaving. His eyes seemed to mock her and he stood deliberately in her path so that to pass she would have to squeeze by him.
‘Would you mind allowing me to pass, sir?’
‘I might,’ he said, the suggestion of a leer on his lips. ‘Then again, I might not…’
‘Please, I must follow my aunt.’
Lady Wainwright became aware of her predicament and looked back. ‘Kindly allow my niece to pass, sir—or I shall call the landlord and ask for his assistance!’
The gentleman scowled at her but stood aside, though Jo could feel his eyes following her as she began to walk up the stairs to the room her aunt had reserved for her. At that moment she was very glad that her aunt’s maid was to sleep in her room—there was something about the man’s eyes that had sent shivers down her spine. She was certain that he was not a very nice person at all. She heard a shout of laughter as he rejoined his friends, and blushed, knowing that she must be under discussion.
Lifting her head, she hurried up the stairs. She had not liked the gentleman one little bit and hoped that she would never have to see him again, but he would make a perfect villain in the book she was planning. He was a role model for her wicked earl if ever there were one!
‘Well, what did you think of her?’ Ralph Carstairs asked of the gentleman sitting to his right as he sipped his wine. ‘Not a true beauty, perhaps—but something out of the ordinary, I think. There was pride in her eyes and a hidden fire beneath that cool exterior.’
‘Yes, attractive enough, I grant you,’ Hal Beverley said. ‘But she is not for you, Carstairs. That dragon will keep all but those of pure heart and mind from her door. I assure you that you will not be allowed to get near—and rightly so, my dear fellow.’
Carstairs gave a shout of coarse laughter. ‘You are right about the aunt. I know Wainwright slightly and I believe she leads him a dog’s life. No wonder he kept a high flyer in town for years!’
‘Well, we’ve all done that,’ Hal agreed, though he had not done so for some months, since he left Spain and returned home to search for his sister-in-law. ‘But you have a taste for the forbidden, Carstairs, and I can tell you now that she is not for you—or any of your ilk. It will be marriage or nothing for that young lady, as it should be.’
‘Don’t turn the prude on me,’ Carstairs said with a frown. ‘Madeline was a hot-tempered beauty. We all envied you her favours.’
‘And sampled them as soon as my back was turned,’ Hal said, for he knew that the Spanish beauty had taken lovers as and when she desired. ‘I did not grudge her to you, my friend. She was too much of a firebrand for me—a man would have to give his soul to satisfy her needs.’
‘But the little redhead has something of her look, did you not think so?’
‘I saw nothing of it,’ Hal said, ‘but then I did not stare at her all evening as you did, Carstairs.’ He grinned lazily. ‘I dare say you have given her nightmares. And now you must excuse me, my friend. I think I shall go for a walk before I retire.’
Hal left the others to continue their roistering and went outside into the cool of the night air. It was a cursed nuisance coming across Carstairs and the others. He did not want to become involved with them, and hoped they were, as they had told him, en route to a mill and would not turn up in Bath.
Carstairs had begged him to join them on their expedition, but Hal had pleaded business. Indeed, he had business of his own in Bath, but it was of a personal nature. Carstairs would know Matt’s wife, as would one or two of the others, and for the moment he wanted to keep his mission a secret. He would help Ellen if he found her, but the news that she was expecting Matt’s child would need to be broken gently to Lord Beverley, for a sudden shock of that nature might kill him.
Jo looked out of the window before she was ready to sleep. Her aunt’s maid had not yet come up, but it could not be long now. It was a clear night, the moonlight falling on the inn yard and turning it golden, hiding all the scars of daytime so that it looked mysterious and vaguely beautiful.
She saw a man standing alone in the yard. He seemed to be staring at the moon, or perhaps he was just taking the air before retiring, which she would have liked to do had it been possible. She thought that he was one of the young men who had been making so much noise earlier, though not the one who had stared at her. He had been quieter than the others, thoughtful, though their eyes had met once before she looked quickly away.
She turned as the door of her bedchamber opened and Millicent entered.
‘Not in bed yet, miss?’ the maid asked. ‘I am sorry to disturb you, but it was the only room available.’
‘Not at all,’ Jo said with a smile, because she liked the woman. ‘I am glad to have you here. Some of the gentlemen downstairs are a little the worse for drink.’
‘Ah, yes,’ Millicent said. ‘Well, I shall be here—and we’ll make sure to lock the door, miss.’
‘Yes.’ Jo smiled at her and ran to get into bed because she had turned cold. Thankfully, it was a large feather mattress and they would not be too cramped.
Jo was up early in the morning. She had not slept well, for Millicent had snored most of the night, and she was glad to get up and go downstairs. It was not yet time for breakfast, but she wanted to walk outside for a little to clear a slight headache.
She saw some of the servants beginning their work as she went out into the yard and began to walk towards what looked like a pleasant garden at the rear. It was still chilly for the sun had not yet come out, and Jo hugged her shawl about her shoulders. As she entered the garden, she saw that the man who had blocked her path the previous evening was sitting on a bench, and looked as if he had just doused his head in water. He was stripped to the waist, his tanned skin exposed to the elements.
‘Oh…’ She hesitated as he looked up and saw her. ‘Forgive me…’
Jo turned away immediately, for it was embarrassing to come upon a gentleman in such circumstances.
‘You don’t get away that easily, my lovely,’ the man said and stood up. Before Jo could move away, he came up to her, taking hold of her arm, grinning at her in a manner she could only think of as suggestive.
‘Please let me go,’ Jo said. ‘I did not realise that anyone was here.’
‘Spying on me,
