THE NOTORIOUS COALE BROTHERS

They are the talk of the Ton!

Twin brothers Dominic and Jasper Coale set society’s tongues wagging with their disreputable behaviour.

Get to know the real men behind the scandalous reputations in this deliciously wicked duet from Sarah Mallory!

Major Dominic Coale

Locked away in his castle in the woods with only his tormenting memories for company, until governess Zelah Pentewan crosses the threshold …

BENEATH THE MAJOR’S SCARS

December 2012

Jasper Coale, Viscount Markham

Used to having his own way where women are concerned, Jasper would bet his fortune on being able to seduce beautiful Susannah Prentess, but she proves stubbornly resistant to his charms!

BEHIND THE RAKE’S WICKED WAGER

January 2013

AUTHOR NOTE

BEHIND THE RAKE’S WICKED WAGER is the story of Jasper Coale, Viscount Markham, the elder of the notorious Coale brothers.

When I decided upon my identical twin heroes I wanted the men and their stories to be anything but identical. Dominic is a soldier. He sustained horrific injuries during the Peninsular War, but he is surviving to build a new life for himself in England. By comparison Jasper has had an easy time of it. He has grown up knowing his role in life: he was born and raised to be Viscount Markham. Jasper has it all—money, position, good looks and an abundance of charm. He has been courted as a most eligible bachelor all his life and has never fought for any woman’s attention—if she does not welcome his advances he is happy to shrug and move on. Until he meets Susannah Prentess, who appears to be contemptuous of his charm, his money and his title.

Susannah has her own reasons for keeping the attractive Viscount at arm’s length. Her experiences have taught her to be wary of fashionable gentlemen like Lord Markham, and she has secrets that could ruin her standing in Bath society should they become known. At first she thinks Jasper is not so different from any other rich man—determined to get his own way at any cost—but when she finds herself in a difficult and potentially serious situation with him she finds the Viscount capable of some very unrakish behaviour!

I do hope you enjoy reading Susannah and Jasper’s story and I would be delighted to know what you think of it. You can contact me via my website: www.sarahmallory.com

About the Author

SARAH MALLORY was born in Bristol, and now lives in an old farmhouse on the edge of the Pennines with her husband and family. She left grammar school at sixteen to work in companies as varied as stockbrokers, marine engineers, insurance brokers, biscuit manufacturers and even a quarrying company. Her first book was published shortly after the birth of her daughter. She has published more than a dozen books under the pen-name of Melinda Hammond, winning the Reviewers’ Choice Award from Singletitles.com for Dance for a Diamond and the Historical Novel Society’s Editors’ Choice for Gentlemen in Question. In 2012, her Sarah Mallory novel THE DANGEROUS LORD DARRINGTON won the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s RONA Rose Award.

Previous novels by the same author:

THE WICKED BARON

MORE THAN A GOVERNESS

(part of On Mothering Sunday)

WICKED CAPTAIN, WAYWARD WIFE

THE EARL’S RUNAWAY BRIDE

DISGRACE AND DESIRE

TO CATCH A HUSBAND …

SNOWBOUND WITH THE NOTORIOUS RAKE

(part of An Improper Regency Christmas)

THE DANGEROUS LORD DARRINGTON

BENEATH THE MAJOR’S SCARS*

* The Notorious Coale Brothers

Look for Sarah Mallory’s THE ILLEGITIMATE MONTAGUE part of Castonbury Park Regency mini-series available now

Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

Behind the Rake’s
Wicked Wager

Sarah Mallory

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For P and S, my own twin heroes.

Chapter One

‘Well, well, Lord Markham, have you ever seen such a bonny child?’

Jasper Coale, Viscount Markham, looked down at the baby lying in its crib and was at a loss for words. Thankfully, his sister-in-law came to his aid.

‘Fie now, Lady Andrews, when was a man ever interested in babies? I suspect the viscount is merely glad that his little godson is not screaming the house down, as he was doing during the ceremony.’ Zelah gazed down fondly at her baby son. ‘Fortunately the journey back from the church has rocked him off to sleep.’

The christening of Dominic and Zelah’s second child had been a major event and the little church at Lesserton was crowded for the ceremony. Afterwards, Dominic laid on a feast at the White Hart for the tenants and villagers to enjoy, while family and close friends were invited to Rooks Tower for an elegant and substantial repast. Zelah had the satisfaction of seeing her rooms overflowing with guests, despite the threat of snow which was always a concern during the early months of the year. She suspected no small part of the inducement to the local families to leave their firesides was the knowledge that no lesser person than Viscount Markham would be present.

Jasper had been unable to attend the christening of his niece Arabella some eighteen months earlier, but Zelah and Dominic had asked him to stand godfather for their new-born son, and only the direst winter weather would have kept him away.

The fires at Rooks Tower were banked up, the table almost groaned with the banquet it was required to support and the wine flowed freely. Jasper was sure the neighbourhood would be talking about the Coales’ hospitality for months to come. Most of the guests were gathered in the yellow salon, but Jasper had wandered across to join Zelah in the study where the baby was sleeping, watched over by his devoted nurse. Sir Arthur and Lady Andrews had followed him into the room, brimming with good humour thanks to the abundant quantities of wine and food.

‘I admit I have nothing but praise for my godson while he is sleeping,’ said Jasper, glancing down into the crib.

‘It makes me quite broody,’ declared Lady Andrews, causing her husband to guffaw loudly.

‘Now, now, my dear, our breeding days are well past, thank the Lord!’

‘I am well aware of that, sir.’ The lady turned her bright gaze upon Jasper. ‘But what of you, Lord Markham? I am sure, seeing your brother’s felicity, you must envy him his happy state.’

Jasper’s smile froze. Glancing across the crib, he saw the sudden alarm in Zelah’s dark eyes. He must respond quickly, lest they notice how pale she had grown. But even as he sought for the words his sister-in-law recovered with a laughing rejoinder.

‘Having spent the past two weeks here with his niece and godson, Lord Markham is more likely to value his freedom!’ She tucked her hand in his arm. ‘If you will excuse us, Sir Arthur, Lady Andrews, I must carry the viscount away now to speak to my sister before she leaves us …’

‘I commend your quick thinking,’ he murmured as they crossed the hall.

‘I had to do something,’ she responded quietly. ‘I did not want you to snub them for their impertinence. They are good people, and mean well.’

‘Mean well—!’ He smothered an exclamation and after a moment continued, ‘I beg your pardon, but it seems these days the whole world is eager to marry me off. I cannot look at a woman without her family hearing wedding bells.’

She chuckled. ‘Surely it has always been thus. ’Tis merely that you are more aware of it now.’

‘Perhaps you are right. I thought by leaving London I should have some respite from the incessant gossip and conjecture.’

Zelah gave a soft laugh and squeezed his arm.

‘You are nigh on thirty years old, my lord. Society considers it time you settled down and produced an heir.’

‘Society can go hang. I will not marry without love, and you know you are the only woman—’

Zelah stopped. ‘Hush, Jasper, someone may hear you.’

‘What if they do?’ He smiled down at her. ‘Dominic knows you refused me, it matters not what anyone else thinks.’

Zelah shook her head at him, trying to joke him out of his uncharacteristic seriousness.

‘For shame, my lord, what of your reputation as the wicked flirt no woman can resist? It would be sadly dented if word got out that you had been rejected.’

He looked down at her, wondering how it was that of all the women he had met, the only one he had ever wanted to marry should prefer his twin.

‘So it would,’ he said, raising her fingers to his lips. ‘Then let it be our secret, that you are the woman who broke my heart.’

Zelah blushed and shook her head at him.

‘Fie, Jasper, I may have bruised your heart a little, but it is not broken, I am sure. I am not the woman for you. I believe there is another, somewhere, far more suited to you, my lord.’

‘Well, I have not found her yet, and it is not for want of looking,’ he quipped lightly.

‘Mayhap love will come upon you when you least expect it,’ she responded. ‘As it did with me and Dominic.’

Jasper’s heart clenched at the soft light that shone in her eyes when she spoke of his brother. It tightened even more as he observed her delighted smile at the sound of her husband’s voice.

‘What is this, sir, dallying with my wife again?’

She turned, in no way discomposed at being discovered tête-à-tête with the irresistible viscount, but that was because she knew herself innocent of any impropriety. She had never succumbed to his charms, thought Jasper, with a rueful inward smile. That had always been part of the attraction. She held out her hand to her husband.

Marriage suited Dominic. The damaged soldier who had returned from the Peninsula, barely alive, was now a contented family man and respected landowner, the horrific scars on his face and body lessened by the constant application of the salves and soothing balms Zelah prepared for him.

‘Lady Andrews has been telling Jasper it is time he married,’ said Zelah, her laughing glance flicking between them.

‘Aye, so it is,’ growled Dominic, the smile in his hard eyes belying his gruff tone. ‘Put the female population out of its misery. My friends in town tell me at least three more silly chits sank into a decline when you left London at the end of the Season.’

Jasper spread his hands. ‘If they wish to flirt with me, Dom, who am I to say them nay? As for marriage, I have no plans to settle down yet.’

‘Well, you should,’ retorted his twin bluntly. ‘You need an heir. I do not want the title. I am happy enough here at Rooks Tower.’ His arm slid around Zelah and he pulled her close. ‘Come, love. Your sister is about to set off for West Barton and wishes to take her leave of you.’

‘Ah, yes, we were on our way to say goodbye to Maria and Reginald, and little Nicky, too. I doubt we shall see my nephew again before he goes off to school in Exeter.’ She sighed. ‘We shall miss him dreadfully, shall we not, Dom?’

‘Little Nicky is now a strapping eleven-year-old and so full of mischief he is in serious danger of being throttled by my gamekeeper,’ retorted her fond husband.

‘Ripe and ready for a spree, is he?’ Jasper grinned, remembering his own boyhood, shared with his twin. ‘Then by all means pack him off to school.’

He allowed Zelah to take his arm again.

‘So you intend to leave us tomorrow,’ she remarked as they walked towards the yellow salon. ‘Back to London?’

‘No, Bristol. To Hotwells.’

‘Hotwells?’ Dominic gave a bark of laughter. ‘Never tell me you are going to visit Gloriana Barnabus.’

‘I am indeed,’ replied Jasper. ‘I had a letter from her before Christmas, begging me to call upon her.’

‘What a splendid name,’ declared Zelah. ‘Is she as colourful as she sounds?’

‘No,’ growled Dominic. ‘She is some sort of distant cousin, a fading widow who enjoys the poorest of health. Did she say why she is so anxious to see you after all these years?’

‘Not a word, though I suspect it is to do with her son Gerald. Probably wants me to sponsor his entry into Parliament, or some such.’

Dominic shrugged as he stood back for his twin and his wife to enter the yellow salon.

‘Well, dancing attendance upon Gloriana will keep you out of mischief for a while.’

Zelah cast a considering glance up at her brother-in-law.

‘I am not so sure, my love. With that handsome face and his wicked charm, I fear Lord Markham will get into mischief anywhere!’

Jasper set off from Rooks Tower the following 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 to call.’ Her voice was as frail as her person, but Jasper knew there was a will of iron inside the waif-like body. He took the hand held out to him and kissed it punctiliously. The fingers curled around his hand like claws. ‘So good of you to come out of your way, when you know I have no room to put you up here.’

‘Yes, wasn’t it?’ he replied cheerfully.

She sank on to the sofa, trying to pull him down with her, but he freed himself and drew up a chair.

‘You are on your way back to London, Markham?’

‘Yes. I hope to reach Corsham tonight. Well, Gloriana, what can I do for you?’

Her sigh was audible.

‘So like your dear father.’

‘Devil a bit, madam. He wouldn’t have put himself out to come here at all. He would have sent a servant to find out what it was you wanted.’

Gloriana looked a trifle discomposed at this but she recovered quickly and gave him a wan smile.

‘In looks, my dear boy, in looks. And how is your poor, scarred soldier-brother?’

The epithet grated on Jasper but he concealed it.

‘Dominic is prospering. And very happy with his growing family. Now, Gloriana, tell me why you have summoned me here.’

The widow wrung her hands and uttered dramatically, ‘It is Gerald.’

‘I thought as much. What has the boy done?’

This cool response drew a reproachful look from the widow.

‘So charming yet so implacable.’ She sighed. ‘No wonder you break so many hearts.’

‘Not intentionally, ma’am, I assure you.’ He took out his watch. ‘I am sorry to hurry you, Gloriana, but my curricle is waiting and I do not want to keep the horses standing too long in this cold weather. Tell me about Gerald.’

‘Your manners, Markham, leave a lot to be desired.’

‘But a moment ago you were telling me I was charming.’

Mrs Barnabus struggled with herself. She would have liked to give the viscount a sharp set-down but she wanted his help, and she was very much afraid if she ordered him to apologise or be on his way, he would choose the latter option. The fact that he was well aware of her inner turmoil did nothing to improve her temper. She forgot her plaintive tone and spoke curtly.

‘He has formed a disastrous attachment.’

Jasper’s black brows rose.

‘Really? That does not sound like Gerald. When I’ve met him in town I have always thought him a level-headed young buck.’

Apart from a faint moue of distaste she ignored his description of her beloved son.

‘That is why I am so concerned. He came to see me before Christmas, extolling the virtues of this woman—a very paragon she sounded!—but I took little notice. He has always been a sensible boy and I thought his infatuation would soon burn itself out. Then one of my acquaintances wrote to tell me that this … this female holds regular card parties. I am told she won a considerable sum of money from Gerald. Two hundred guineas!’

‘A mere nothing. He could lose more than that in a sitting at White’s.’

‘Perhaps, but my acquaintance says all Bath was talking of it.’

‘Bath!’ Jasper laughed. ‘He has become enamoured of a lady from Bath? Is she an invalid or old enough to be his grandmama?’

‘It may not be quite as fashionable as it was, but there are still any number of people who like to visit there,’ replied Mrs Barnabus, affronted by his humour. ‘I should go there myself, if the waters here were not more beneficial for those like myself who are prone to consumptive symptoms.’

‘Well perhaps you should go there anyway, to find out just what Gerald is about.’

‘He will not listen to me. He is one-and-twenty now, and in charge of his own fortune. Besides, I could not possibly travel such a distance.’

‘It is barely fifteen miles, Cousin.’

‘And I would be so knocked up I should be in no fit state to help my poor son.’ She sank back on the sofa and waved her vinaigrette under her nose, weakened merely by the thought of such a journey. ‘No, Markham, as head of the family, it is up to you to rescue Gerald from the clutches of this—this harpy.’

‘My dear ma’am, we have no evidence that there is anything wrong with the woman at all, save that she has beaten Gerald at cards. And even that is not to be wondered at. If I remember rightly he was never that sharp.’

Gloriana’s eyes snapped angrily.

‘You are too cruel, Markham. The boy is almost ten years your junior and lacks your worldly experience. And now, when I ask, nay, beg you to help him, you can do nothing but jest.’ She broke off, dragging a wisp of lace from her pocket and dabbing at her eyes.

Jasper regarded her in exasperation as he saw his dinner at the Hare and Hounds slipping away. However, beneath his insouciant exterior he was quite fond of Gerald, so he gave in with a faint shrug.

‘Very well, ma’am, I can as easily stop at Bath tonight as at Corsham. I will seek out Gerald and find out just what is afoot.’

Gently brushing aside her grateful effusions and the belated offer of a glass of ratafia, Jasper took his leave of Gloriana and headed for York House.

He arrived at the busy Bath hotel before five o’clock, in good time to bespeak rooms and dinner. Then, having changed his travel clothes for the coat and knee-breeches that were still the required evening dress for Bath, he sallied forth in search of Gerald Barnabus.

Susannah looked around the drawing room with satisfaction. It was filling up nicely and most of the little card tables were occupied.

‘Another good turn-out.’

Susannah heard the murmur and found Kate Logan at her side. Kate was a widow and past her thirtieth year, although she looked younger and her stylish gown of bronze satin with its matching turban drew many a gentleman’s eye. Susannah knew Kate was well aware of her attraction and used it to advantage at the card table, although she never succumbed to any gentleman’s advances. She continued now in her habitual slow drawl, ‘There is a ball at the Lower Rooms tonight, so doubtless many will take themselves off there at ten and then we can get down to business.’

Susannah shushed her with a look and said in a voice of mock severity, ‘There is no business here, Mrs Logan. We merely invite a few friends to enjoy a game of cards.’

Kate gave a knowing smile.

‘That is what I meant, Susannah.’

‘Of course,’ added Susannah innocently, ‘some of our guests might lose a few guineas at our tables, but that is hardly to be wondered at, after all.’ She glanced at her friend, trying to keep her countenance, but failed miserably, and her peal of laughter made several heads turn. ‘Oh dear, now I have made people stare. Go away, Kate, before I forget myself again. Look, my aunt is waving to you to make a fourth at whist.’

‘And she is sitting down with Mr and Mrs Anstruther, who spend so much time bickering that they invariably lose. Very well, I shall go, and I see old Major Crommelly is coming over, no doubt to engage you for a game of picquet, which is his pretext to get you to himself and subject you to the most fulsome compliments.’

‘He may positively shower me with compliments as long as he is happy to play for pound points,’ chuckled Susannah, turning to greet the elderly gentleman who was approaching her.

It was well over an hour later that she rose from the table, refusing the major’s suggestion that they should play another hand.

‘But, my dear Miss Prentess, the night is yet young.’

‘It is indeed, but I have other guests to attend, Major, and cannot let you monopolise me.’

She softened her words with a smile and went off to join her aunt, whom she found bubbling with excitement.

‘Susannah, I am so glad you are come, I was determined to interrupt your game if you had not finished when you did.’

‘My dear ma’am, what has occurred to put you into a spin?’

‘Mr Barnabus has arrived—’

‘Is that all? How did he look? I hope he is not too downhearted—’

‘No, that is, I did not notice.’ Aunt Maude flapped her hands in excitement. ‘Did you see the stranger he brought with him?’

‘No, I was paying picquet with the major and had my back to the door.’ Susannah looked around. ‘Has Mr Barnabus brought another gentleman, then? That is good of him, and shows he has not taken umbrage at my refusal.’

‘No, not a gentleman, Susannah. A viscount. There, I knew that would make you stare.’

‘It does indeed. We have had nothing more prestigious than a baron here before, although I suppose General Sanstead is pretty high …’

Mrs Wilby tapped her niece’s arm with her closed fan.

‘Pray be serious, Susannah, his presence here adds distinction! You must let me make you known to him at once.’

‘By all means, Aunt. Lead on.’

‘No need, here he comes now,’ Mrs Wilby responded in a shrill whisper, and Susannah looked around to see two gentlemen approaching. The first, a stocky young man with an open, boyish countenance beneath a thatch of fair hair, was Gerald Barnabus, and after a brief smile of welcome she turned her attention to his companion. The contrast with Mr Barnabus was striking. Gerald looked neat—even smart—in his evening dress, but the viscount’s black coat bore all the hallmarks of a London tailor. It fitted perfectly across his shoulders and followed the tapering line of the body to his waist. Satin knee-breeches stretched over muscled thighs that hinted at the athlete, while the startling white of his quilted waistcoat and impeccable linen of his shirt and neckcloth proclaimed a level of sartorial elegance not often seen in Bath.

The man himself was tall and lean, with hair as dark as midnight. The golden, flickering candlelight accentuated the strong lines of his handsome face. When she met his eyes a little tremor ran down her spine. She was used to seeing admiration in a man’s look, but the viscount’s gaze was coolly appraising.

‘Ah, there you are, Miss Prentess,’ Gerald greeted her cheerfully. ‘I have brought a friend with me; I made sure you would not object to it. Well, I say friend, but he is some sort of cousin, actually …’

‘Come, Gerald, you are taking far too long about this.’

The viscount’s voice was low and pleasant, with just a hint of laughter. He turned to Susannah, the cool look in his eyes replaced by a glinting smile.

‘I am Markham.’ He gave a little bow. ‘How do you do?’

‘I am very well, my lord, thank you. And of course there can be no objection to your coming here with Mr Barnabus.’

‘Aye, I knew you would be pleased,’ said Gerald, grinning.

Susannah barely heard Gerald’s words for the viscount had reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips.

‘Are you making a long stay in Bath, my lord?’ She struggled to ignore the fluttering inside, like the soft beating of birds’ wings against her ribcage. The pad of his thumb had rubbed gently over her knuckles before he gave up her hand and her skin still tingled with the memory.

‘I am on my way to town. I merely stopped off to look in on my cousin.’

‘Aye, which is why I persuaded him to take pot luck here with me tonight,’ added Gerald.

‘And we are delighted to have you join us.’ Mrs Wilby spread her fan and looked about her while Susannah stood mute at her side, trying to make sense of her reaction to this stranger. ‘What would you care to play, my lord? There is macao, or loo, or euchre … or if you care to wait a little I am sure we can set you up with a rubber of whist—’

‘You are too kind, ma’am, but if you have no objection I shall walk about a little.’ He bestowed such a charming smile upon Aunt Maude that Susannah was not at all surprised to see her simpering like a schoolroom miss. ‘I like to gauge the opposition before I commit myself to the game.’

‘You will find no deep play here, my lord,’ Susannah responded. ‘And no hardened gamesters.’

‘No?’ His brows lifted. ‘Not even yourself, Miss Prentess?’

Again that flutter down her spine. She was close enough to see his eyes now. Blue-grey, and hard as slate.

She shook her head. ‘I am no gamester, my lord.’

‘But she is good,’ said Gerald. ‘I’d wager she could match you, Cousin.’

‘Indeed? Perhaps we should put it to the test.’

His voice was silky, but she heard the note of contempt in his tone. To her dismay she felt the blush rising to her cheeks. She could do nothing to hide it, so she put up her chin and replied to Gerald with a smile.

‘You are too kind, Mr Barnabus. I have no wish to pit myself against one who is no doubt a master.’

She excused herself and walked away. As she passed the table where Mrs Logan was presiding at a noisy game of vingt-et-un, Kate stretched out her hand to detain her.

‘You seem to have netted a big fish there, Susannah,’ she murmured. ‘Who is he?’

‘Viscount Markham, Gerald’s cousin.’

‘Indeed? A very big fish then.’ Kate’s eyes flickered over the viscount, then came back to her friend. ‘He does not please you?’

‘He seems inclined to sneer at our little party.’ Susannah shrugged. ‘Let my aunt deal with him. If we are not to his taste I hope he will not stay long.’

A shout recalled Kate’s attention to the game and Susannah moved on. She sat down with a large group who were playing loo and tried to give her attention to the cards, but all the time she was aware of the viscount’s tall figure wandering around the room. Then, suddenly, she could not see him and wondered if he had been persuaded to sit down at one of the other tables, or if he had taken his leave. The unease she had felt in his presence made her hope it was the latter.

As the evening wore on and the crowd in the room thinned, Susannah noticed the familiar, subtle change in the card party. The chatter and laughter died away as those who were left concentrated on their game. Two young gentlemen challenged her to take them on at ombre and she was busily engaged with them until the supper gong sounded at midnight.

‘Sacardo again, Miss Prentess,’ laughed one of the young men, throwing down his cards in mock disgust. ‘You are unbeatable tonight.’

‘Aye, she has won almost every trick,’ declared the other, watching as Susannah swept the small pile of coins from the table into her reticule. ‘I hope you will allow Warwick and me the chance to take our revenge later?’

‘More to the point, Farthing, I hope Miss Prentess will allow me to escort her down to supper,’ added Mr Warwick, looking hopefully across at Susannah.

‘Nay, as to that, surely the honour should fall to me?’ said Mr Farthing. ‘I at least won codille, sir, so it can be said I bested you!’

Susannah threw up her hands, laughing.

‘Gentlemen, pray, do not fight over such a trifle.’

‘Especially when the trick is already won,’ said a deep, amused voice. ‘I have come to escort you down to supper, Miss Prentess.’

Susannah looked round to find Lord Markham standing behind her, his hand on the back of her chair.

‘Indeed, my lord?’ His self-assurance rattled her. ‘I rather think these gentlemen might oppose you.’

A glance back showed Susannah that the two young men might have been prepared to fight each other for the pleasure of taking her to supper, but they were far too in awe of a viscount to raise an objection. She was disappointed when they scrambled to their feet, uttering disjointed phrases.

‘L-Lord Markham! N-no, no objections at all, my lord.’

‘Only too happy …’

‘There, you see? No opposition at all.’ The humour glinting in Lord Markham’s eyes did nothing to appease Susannah, but it would not do to show her displeasure, so with a smile of acquiescence she took his hand and allowed him to lead her off. As they moved through the room she looked around her.

‘Ah, my aunt is setting up another game of loo. Perhaps she would like me to help her—’

‘No, it was she who suggested I should take you downstairs.’ When Susannah hesitated he added, ‘You can see, Miss Prentess, that everyone is perfectly content. You may take a little time now to enjoy yourself. These parties are designed to be enjoyed. After all, it is not as if you are running a gaming hell here.’

She looked at him sharply, but could read nothing from his smile. His manners were perfectly polite, but she had the distinct feeling he was on his guard, that he was assessing her. Susannah gave an inward shrug. What did it matter? He was not staying in Bath.

She accompanied him to the supper room, where a selection of cold meats, fruits and sweets was laid out on the table. Susannah chose sparingly from the selection before her, but she was surprised when her escort showed no interest in the food.

‘I am sorry I cannot offer you soup or ramekins, Lord Markham. Our guests make do with a cold collation, even in winter, although there is warm wine for anyone who wishes it.’

‘I require nothing, thank you.’

They found an empty table and sat down. Susannah took a little minced chicken, but found she had no appetite with the viscount sitting opposite her.

‘You work very hard at your … entertainments, Miss Prentess.’

‘I help my aunt as best I can, sir.’

‘And how often do you hold these little parties?’

‘Every Tuesday.’

‘Indeed? You must be prodigious fond of cards, ma’am.’

‘My aunt enjoys them, yes.’

‘I stand corrected.’

She looked up at him, understanding dawning.

‘Ah, I see what it is,’ she said, smiling. ‘You are concerned for your cousin.’

‘Should I not be?’

‘Mr Barnabus will come to no harm here.’ ‘But you have already taken two hundred guineas from him in one night.’

She stared at him. ‘How do you know that? Did Mr Barnabus tell you?’

‘He did not need to. Such deep play excites comment.’

‘Deep play?’ She laughed. ‘I am sure in your London club such a sum would be considered insignificant.’

He leaned forwards.

‘But we are not in my London club, Miss Prentess.’

The unease she had been feeling all evening intensified. She put down her fork.

‘It was unfortunate. I have not allowed it to happen again.’ She met his eyes, returning his gaze steadily. ‘I am not trying to entrap your cousin.’

‘No?’

‘Of course not.’ She hesitated. ‘You may not know it, but he made me an offer of marriage and I refused him. Does that not tell you I have no designs upon him?’

‘Perhaps you are hoping to catch a bigger prize.’

Some of the tension eased and she laughed at the absurdity of his claim.

‘My lord, you have seen the guests my aunt invites. Couples, mainly, like General Sanstead and his wife, intent upon an evening’s sport. And as for the single gentlemen, they are either too old to be looking for a wife or they have yet to make their way in the world.’

‘And such men are very susceptible to the, ah, blandishments of a pretty woman.’

Susannah’s brows snapped together.

‘I find the implication insulting, sir.’ She pushed her plate away. ‘I must go back upstairs.’

‘As you wish.’

What she wished was to order him from the house, but she could hardly eject a viscount from her aunt’s card party without good reason, and it would not do to stir up gossip. Instead she contented herself with returning to the drawing room and quitting his company with no more than a nod of her head.

A rubber of whist with Kate as her partner did much to restore her spirits and later she took her turn at playing vingt-et-un, drawing a crowd of gentlemen, as usual. She concentrated hard on the game. This was her aunt’s party, after all, so it was not for her to keep an eye on who was leaving. However, the game was over and the players dispersing when Gerald approached her, so she could not avoid him.

‘Are you leaving us, Mr Barnabus?’ She put aside her cards and rose to meet him.

‘Aye, my cousin has invited me to take my brandy with him tonight, if you will give me leave?’

From the corner of her eye Susannah saw Lord Markham standing a little way behind his cousin. It would have given her great pleasure to tell Gerald that she would not release him. He would stay, she was sure of it from his look and the warm note in his voice. But that might raise his hopes that she felt something stronger for him than friendship, and she would not serve him such a trick. Instead she contented herself with giving him her warmest smile as he bowed over her fingers, and a murmur—loud enough for the viscount to hear—that she hoped to see him again very soon.

‘I saw the viscount take you off to supper.’ Mrs Logan came up as Susannah watched the two men leave the room. ‘Another conquest, do you think?’

‘Hardly.’ She chuckled. ‘The viscount is more inclined to think me a gold-digger. I have no doubt that he will warn his cousin off.’

‘Pity. He would have been a rich pigeon for the plucking.’

‘I wish you wouldn’t use such cant terms, Kate.’

‘I am a soldier’s widow, love. I know a lot worse than that.’

‘I am sure you do, and I am pleased you have left that life behind.’

‘Aye, and with it the need for a husband.’

‘Come, Kate. You are still young, and I have seen how the men flock to you—are you sure you do not wish to marry again?’

‘Put myself in the power of one man, when as a widow I can flirt and enjoy myself with anyone I wish?’ Kate shook her head. ‘Never. Never again. You know as well as I what monsters men can be, if one allows them dominance.’

Susannah shivered.

‘Let us not think of that, Kate. It is all in the past.’ She gave her friend a quick hug. ‘Now, let us see what we can do to hurry these few remaining guests on their way. I need to get to bed since I have to be up early in the morning.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Odesse sent me a note. We have another client.’

Kate’s eyes widened. ‘Word is spreading,’ she murmured.

Susannah nodded. ‘As we knew it would. I shall drive out tomorrow to make sure she is settled in.’

‘That is not necessary,’ said Kate. ‘Mrs Gifford—’

‘Is a dear soul, but I like to talk to each of our—er—clients myself, it reassures them.’ She laughed. ‘Pray do not look so disapproving, Kate. This was as much your idea as mine.’

‘I know, but it was never my intention that you should be so personally involved.’

Susannah’s laughter deserted her.

‘Why not? It is my reason for living, Kate.’

The walk back to George Street was not a long one, but the icy blast that hit them as they stepped out on to the Crescent prompted Gerald to ask Jasper if they would not be better to go back indoors and send a servant for a cab.

‘By no means,’ he replied. ‘The fresh air will do us good. Unless you mean to imply I am too old for such a journey …’

Gerald laughed.

‘I would not dare. Let us walk, by all means.’ He tucked his hand into Jasper’s arm as they set off at a good pace towards the Circus. ‘Tell me what you thought of Susannah.’

‘Miss Prentess? At first glance, a beauty.’

‘She is beautiful, isn’t she? A golden goddess! But it is not just her looks, Jasper, it is her spirit, too. She is so good, so charitable.’

‘Not so charitable that she won’t take your money at the card table.’

‘No, no, a mere trifle. She will not countenance anyone losing more than fifty guineas at a sitting.’

‘That is not what I have heard.’

‘Ah.’ Gerald gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘You said you had called upon my mother. I suppose she told you I had lost more, and asked you to come and rescue me.’

‘Not in so many words.’

Gerald swore under his breath.

‘Damn the Bath tabbies that report my every move! That was a single occurrence, and entirely my own doing. Susannah did not wish to take my money, I assure you—I had to almost beg her to do so. And I had thought hard beforehand. It was money I could afford to lose.’

‘That is what all gamesters will tell you.’

Gerald stopped and pulled away.

‘I am no gambler, Jasper. If I was I would be sporting my blunt in some hell, rather than in Mrs Wilby’s drawing room!’

The flare of a nearby street lamp showed the boy’s face to be serious. Jasper put a hand on his shoulder.

‘No, I had not thought it of you, until now. I take it that Miss Prentess is the attraction, rather than the cards?’

‘Of course. You must have noticed how many young bucks were there tonight.’

‘And old roués,’ added Jasper.

‘It is all the rage to be in love with her.’ Gerald began to walk on, his good humour quite restored. ‘She is beautiful, and an heiress.’

‘Indeed?’

‘Aye. She is old Middlemass’s heir, don’t you know.’

‘What, the nabob?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, that explains the house in Royal Crescent.’

‘Aye, the old man bought it when he returned from India, but rarely used it. Susannah was his only relative. She was living with him at his place in Westbury when he died, and he left everything to her in trust until she is five-and-twenty.’

‘Then I am no longer surprised all Bath is at her feet. Yet why should Gloriana call it a disastrous attachment?’

‘Not everyone in Bath is enamoured of Miss Prentess.’

‘I would have thought her fortune would make her universally admired.’

‘Yes, well, Bath is not London, Jasper. Respectability is everything here, don’t you know. And there are some high sticklers in Bath, including those who write to my mother. And Miss Prentess does not go out of her way to flatter them.’

‘So what do they have against the lady?’

‘For one thing they do not approve of her setting herself up in Royal Crescent with her aunt—if the truth were told I suspect they are jealous that she can afford to do so. Then there is her birth. Her father was a soldier and her mother an officer’s daughter. Perfectly respectable,’ he added quickly. ‘I ascertained as much before I—’

‘Yes?’ Jasper prompted him.

‘I offered her my hand.’

There was no mistaking the rather belligerent note in Gerald’s voice. He clearly expected Jasper to be outraged. Instead Jasper said merely, ‘I am glad you had so much presence of mind. When one is … head over heels, one is inclined to forget such things.’

Gerald relaxed again and aimed a playful punch at his ribs.

‘Well, I didn’t! I am not such a looby.’ He sighed. ‘I made sure the fortune would reconcile Mama to her, and I am sure it would have done, if Susannah had accepted me.’

‘Does that matter now? Since the lady has refused you …’

‘I hope she will be persuaded to change her mind.’ They had reached George Street and the entrance to York House. Jasper stood back for Gerald to precede him but the young man turned to him, saying earnestly, ‘You have met her, Jasper. You could speak to Mama for me. Susannah—Miss Prentess—is infinitely superior to every other woman I have ever met, you must see that.’

‘Ah …’ Jasper gave him a rueful smile ‘… but I have met rather more women than you, Cousin. Now, shall we go in out of the cold?’

Gerald took his leave a couple of hours later, but instead of retiring immediately, Jasper poured himself another brandy and settled himself into the chair beside the fire. He had done his duty by his cousin and warned him against proposing marriage again without careful thought, but Gerald had merely laughed at his concerns and asked him what fault he could find with Susannah Prentess. And indeed, Jasper could not find any, but something nagged at him.

He had spent the evening in Royal Crescent, watching and listening. The card party appeared to be quite innocuous and everyone enjoyed themselves, especially the numerous gentlemen who vied with each other for the opportunity to play cards with Miss Prentess, but he would be surprised if many of them left the house richer than they entered it. Both his hostess and her niece were excellent card players. He had observed them closely during the evening—their assessment of their opponents’ hands was shrewd and the play was as clever as anything he had seen in town. Then there was the widow, Mrs Logan. She appeared to be very thick with Miss Prentess, and when the two ladies sat down together at the whist table they were unbeatable.

Jasper frowned, cupping his brandy glass between his hands. He had seen no evidence of sharp practice, and he noted that Miss Prentess kept the stakes deliberately low and gently turned away any gentleman who was losing too much. She was very clever, winning small amounts, not enough to cause the loser distress, or to arouse suspicion. And as Gerald said, they were safer playing there than in some gambling hell. But there were at least a dozen gentlemen present, and fifty guineas from each….

‘Hell and confound it, she is an heiress,’ he muttered. ‘She cannot want the money!’

Perhaps they needed the extra funds for their lifestyle. But there had been nothing too lavish about the supper provided for the guests and Miss Prentess’s gown of figured muslin showed quality rather than ostentation.

He finished his brandy in one gulp and set down the glass. He had fulfilled his promise. He could write to Gloriana and tell her that Miss Prentess was no harpy, but something still rankled. Gerald had laughed off his words of caution and was obviously too infatuated with the lady to make a rational judgement, so it behooved his older and more worldly-wise cousin to do it for him.

He would remain in Bath.

Chapter Three

‘My dear, are you sure you want to go to the ball tonight? You are almost asleep there.’

Susannah looked up with a start. She and her aunt were sitting in the morning room, where the welcome heat from the fire had made her quite drowsy.

‘Of course, ma’am. I shall be very well, once I have had dinner.’ Susannah brushed aside her aunt’s concerns with a smile.

‘But you have been sitting there this past half-hour without saying a word.’

‘Then I beg your pardon, I am a little tired after my travelling today.’

‘You were gone for so long I was beginning to worry.’

‘There was no need, Aunt. You know I had Dorcas with me.’

‘But I do worry, my love. I can never be easy when you are … visiting. One never knows what you might pick up.’

Susannah smiled. ‘My dear aunt, I assure you there is no danger of contamination.’

‘Not of the body, perhaps, but—’

‘Please, Aunt, you know we have discussed this often and often. There is no danger at all in what I do, so let us not pursue it.’ She looked across as the door opened. ‘Ah, here is Gatley to tell us dinner is ready. Shall we go down?’

Susannah did her best to entertain her aunt at dinner and to hide all signs of fatigue, but she had to admit to herself that she was tired. It had been three o’clock before the last of the guests had left and she could fall into bed that morning. She should not complain, for it proved how successful their little card parties had become. But she had been up and out of the house before ten o’clock, not returning to the Crescent until late in the afternoon. Her aunt would argue that there was no need for her to go out, that she could entrust such errands to a servant, but Susannah’s independent spirit baulked at that. She had set herself a task and she would see it through. And that included going to the ball tonight.

The Upper Rooms were already crowded when Susannah and her aunt arrived. Their chairmen weaved through the press of carriages and deposited them under the entrance portico, where the music from the ballroom could be faintly heard. It was ten o’clock, the hour when the fashionable would leave their private parties and proceed to the ball, so the entrance was buzzing with activity. There were many acquaintances to be greeted once the ladies had removed their cloaks and straightened their shawls.

Susannah waved to Mrs Logan, who had just arrived, then turned back to greet a turbaned matron who sailed up to her with two marriageable daughters in her wake.

‘Oh, Miss Prentess—another new gown? You are always so beautifully turned out.’ The matron sighed ecstatically as she regarded Susannah’s flowered muslin. ‘So fine, my dear. And the lace edging, quite, quite exquisite. Is it Brussels?’

Susannah smiled and shook her head. ‘No, ma’am, it is made locally, and it is exclusive to Odesse, the new modiste in Henrietta Street.’

‘Indeed? I thought you had ordered it from London, so fine as it is.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Bulstrode. I find Odesse excellent. And she has excelled herself; I did not expect to have this gown for another week at least.’

The matron’s eyes brightened. ‘And in Henrietta Street, you say?’

‘Yes, her prices are very reasonable.’ Susanna dropped her voice a little. ‘Especially when one considers what one has to pay for gowns in Milsom Street. Not that one objects to the price, of course, but Odesse does seem to have a certain style …’

‘Indeed she does, Miss Prentess. That gown is quite superb. Well, well, I shall look her up.’ With a smile Mrs Bulstrode gathered her daughters and went off, leaving Susannah to smile after her.

‘Excellent,’ murmured Kate, coming up. ‘That could not have been better timed. Amelia Bulstrode is such a gabble-monger that our new modiste’s name will be on every woman’s lips by the end of the evening.’

‘And her gowns will be on a good many ladies’ backs by the end of the month,’ added Susannah. ‘I have achieved what I wanted to do without even entering the ballroom.’ She noted the startled look in Mrs Wilby’s eye and shook her head, laughing. ‘You need not fear, Aunt, I do not intend to go home yet. I hope to drum up even more business for the new modiste before the evening is out.’

‘Don’t!’ hissed Mrs Wilby in an urgent whisper. ‘Pray, Susannah, do not mention the word business. It is not at all becoming.’

‘Quite right,’ agreed Kate, her lips twitching. ‘Susannah is a lady and should know nothing about such matters. She is here merely to look beautiful and to stir up such envy that the other ladies will all want to know where she buys her gowns.’

‘Kate!’

Susannah’s protest evoked nothing more than a shake of the head from her friend.

‘It is true, Susannah, and you know it. And I like the new way you have put up your hair,’ she added. ‘Quite in the classical style. What is it Mr Barnabus christened you? The golden goddess. Well tonight you could as well be called a Greek goddess.’

‘Thank you, but enough of your nonsense,’ said Susannah, trying to ignore the heat that burned her cheeks. ‘Let us go in, shall we?’

They moved on to the ballroom. Heads turned as Susannah entered, but she was used to that. As Bath’s richest heiress it was only to be expected that she would be pointed out wherever she went, and tonight it suited her purpose to be noticed.

The dancing was already in progress and the floor was a mass of bodies, swirling and skipping in time to the music. There were a good number of acquaintances present, including many of the gentlemen who had attended the card party the previous evening. As soon as she entered she was surrounded by hopeful suitors, all begging for the honour of a dance. Laughing, Kate carried Mrs Wilby off to the benches at the side of the room, leaving Susannah with her admirers.

The country dances were lively and in such a crowd it was necessary to concentrate to avoid jostling the other dancers. Nevertheless, Susannah enjoyed herself, and was happy to join a second and even a third set as the gentlemen lined up to partner her. She was hot and not a little dizzy by the time Mr Edmonds swung her through the final steps of a particularly lively country dance. He invited her to stand up again even as the last notes were fading.

‘You are very kind, sir, but I am going to sit down now,’ she said, half-gasping, half-laughing as she rose from her curtsy. ‘I really do not think I could dance another reel for quite a while, but thank you—oh!’

As she turned to leave the dance floor she found her way blocked by a wall of black. A second glance showed her it was not a wall, but a gentleman’s evening coat, and when she allowed her eyes to travel up from the broad chest they were dazzled by the snowy white linen of an intricately tied neckcloth.

‘I am very pleased to hear it, Miss Prentess, for I have brought you a glass of wine.’

She stepped back and lifted her gaze even further, to the smiling face of Lord Markham.

Jasper noted with satisfaction Susannah’s start of surprise. There was no denying she looked quite beautiful with her golden hair piled up on her head and a soft flush of exertion mantling her cheeks. And she used her looks to good effect, for most of the men he had seen at the Crescent last night were in the ballroom. He had watched the young pups—and some of the older ones—flock around her as she entered and he had no doubt that they had engaged her for every dance, which was why he had decided upon more subtle tactics.

‘Oh,’ she said again, the blush on her cheek deepening. He held out a wineglass and she took it. As she sipped gratefully at her wine he cast a swift, appraising glance over her.

‘Madras muslin,’ he said, displaying his knowledge of ladies’ fashion. ‘Is that in deference to your late uncle, the nabob?’

Immediately she was on the defensive.

‘No, but I am not ashamed of the source of my fortune, Lord Markham.’

‘I am glad to hear it.’

They stood in silence, watching the dancers, but Susannah was very much aware of the man beside her. His evening clothes were simple, a plain coat of black superfine with black knee-breeches of Florentine silk, but they were superbly cut and he wore them with an air of assurance. He was a man used to commanding attention, and she could not deny that he had hers. They were standing side by side, inches apart, and the skin on her arm tingled at his proximity. Her whole body was aware of him, of the power in that long, lean frame. No man had ever affected her like this before. Swallowing nervously, she sought for something to say.

‘I thought you had left Bath, my lord.’

‘Not yet. My cousin appears very happy with the attractions here and I decided to stay and—er—sample them for myself.’

A wary look appeared in her hazel eyes.

‘For one used to the delights of London, I fear you will find it sadly flat.’

‘Are you trying to discourage me, Miss Prentess?’

‘Not at all. But I believe our entertainment is nothing to London.’

‘And how long have you lived here?’

‘We moved into Bath about a year ago.’

‘Then you shall advise me on the entertainments available.’

‘I am sure your cousin can do that, sir.’

‘But I would value a different perspective.’

‘I would be only too happy to help you, sir, if I had the time, but I regret I am too busy at present.’

‘Busy? With what?’

She ignored his question.

‘But here is someone who may be able to help you.’ She looked past him. ‘You know Mrs Logan, I think?

‘We met last night.’ Jasper bowed. ‘Madam.’

‘Ah, yes, Viscount Markham.’ The widow held out her hand to him. ‘We played at euchre together. How could I forget?’

‘The viscount is planning to remain in Bath for a while, Kate.’

Jasper’s keen eye did not miss the look of appeal Susannah gave her friend.

‘Indeed? How delightful.’

‘Yes, and he is anxious to know what entertainments the city offers. Perhaps, Kate, you can assist the viscount? You must excuse me, but I see my next dance partner is looking for me …’

With a gracious smile she hastened away. Jasper watched her go, his eyes narrowing. Outmanoeuvred, by gad, and by a slip of a girl. He told himself he was amused by her antics, but to one more accustomed to being toadied to and courted wherever he went, Jasper could not deny a small element of annoyance.

‘Well, my lord?’ Mrs Logan’s voice cut through his thoughts and he turned back to her, his urbane smile firmly in place.

‘Yes, madam, pray tell me the delights I might expect to find in Bath …’

Susannah hurried away to join her partner for the next dance set. She found her encounters with the viscount strangely unsettling. He was undoubtedly handsome and charming, but her impression upon meeting him for the first time was that he was suspicious of her. He had as good as accused her of having designs upon his cousin, but she hoped she had reassured him on that point. He did not like her, she was sure of that. There was no warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. Why, then, was he singling her out?

‘Wrong way, Miss Prentess!’

Her partner’s urgent whisper brought Susannah back to the dance and she tried to concentrate upon her steps, but even as she twirled and passed and skipped she was aware that the viscount was watching her from the side of the room. Perhaps he was looking out for a rich wife. Another pass, another skip and she gave her hands to her partner to swing her around. She also gave the young gentleman her warmest smile. If Lord Markham thought he only had to parade his title before her and she would fall at his feet, then he was very much in error.

Susannah danced and laughed until her feet and her cheeks ached. Her partners had never known her so vivacious, nor so encouraging. She never once looked for the viscount, but when the ball ended she was disappointed to learn from Mrs Logan that he had left soon after speaking to her.

‘He was less interested in knowing about Bath than learning about you,’ Kate told her as they waited for their cloaks.

‘Oh?’ Susannah tried not to be intrigued and failed miserably. ‘What did he say?’

‘He asked about your parents.’ Kate’s cynical smile dawned. ‘If he is looking for a rich bride he could do worse.’

‘No, he could not.’ Susannah shivered. ‘He is wasting his time with me. I do not want a husband, and certainly not one who looks down his aristocratic nose at me.’

‘But you must admit he is devilishly handsome,’ murmured Kate.

Susannah thought of those hard eyes boring into her. Something inside fluttered again when she thought of Viscount Markham, but she would not admit it to be attraction.

‘Devilish, yes, I’ll agree to that.’

‘Well, for my part I like him,’ declared Mrs Wilby, coming up. She cast an anxious look at her niece. ‘That is, he has never been anything but charming to me.’

‘Hah!’ Susannah found two pairs of eyes upon her. Her aunt’s held merely a question at her vehement exclamation, but Kate Logan’s glance was brimful of merriment and a knowing look that brought an angry flush to Susannah’s cheek. She said haughtily, ‘Charm is the viscount’s second nature, but it will not work with me!’

Thus, when she spied Lord Markham approaching in Milsom Street the following morning she determined to give him no more than a distant nod. She said as much to her companion, Mrs Logan, who gave a tiny shake of her head.

‘I fear you will catch cold at that, Susannah. You see he has Mr Barnabus with him, and he will hardly be fobbed off with so slight a greeting.’

She was right. Gerald hailed them cheerfully and immediately enquired their direction. Kate responded even while Susannah was trying to frame an answer that would send the gentlemen in the opposite direction.

‘We are going to the Pump Room to meet up with Mrs Wilby.’

‘Then we will accompany you, will we not, Jasper?’

‘Oh, but we do not want to take you out of your way.’

Susannah’s protest was overruled.

‘It is no trouble,’ replied Gerald. ‘I dragged my cousin from his bed for an early walk before breakfast, and we may as well go to the Pump Room as anywhere. Come, now, let us be moving!’

She was not sure how it happened, but moments later Susannah found the viscount beside her. He had said very little, but such was his address that somehow he had inveigled Gerald into escorting Kate and Susannah was left with no option but to accept his arm. She placed her fingers carefully on his sleeve, as if afraid the contact might burn.

‘I remember you telling me how busy you are, Miss Prentess.’

‘I am.’

Nerves made her respond more curtly than she intended.

‘And is this the nature of your busyness, to be shopping all day?’

Her sense of the ridiculous put flight to her tension and a laugh escaped her.

‘Not all day, my lord.’ She held up her free hand, displaying the tight-fitting covering of fine kid leather. ‘Besides, a lady always needs new gloves.’

‘Undoubtedly. How did you enjoy the ball last night?’

‘Very much. I suspect the company was a little provincial for you, sir, since you did not dance.’

‘You noticed.’

The laughter in his voice brought a tell-tale flush to her cheeks, but she recovered quickly.

‘No, my aunt told me as much. I take no interest in you at all.’

Too late she realised she should not have added those final words. She waited for him to tease her and could only be grateful that he changed the subject.

‘Mrs Logan tells me you spent your early years following the drum.’

‘Yes, my father was a captain in an infantry regiment.’

‘You lived in Gibraltar, I believe.’

‘Yes. That is where I met Mrs Logan.’

‘And did she accompany you home to England?’

‘No. I returned here when my father died nine years ago. Mama brought us back to live with her sister. Mrs Logan and I met again when I came to Bath last year. I was fortunate to find her here. She has been a good friend to me.’ She added, in response to the question in his eyes, ‘She is a soldier’s widow, I am a soldier’s daughter. We have similar interests.’

‘And why did you come to Bath, Miss Prentess?’

‘Why not?’ she countered.

‘It seems an odd choice for a young lady of means.’

‘My Uncle Middlemass left me the house in the Crescent. It is not within my power to sell it.’

‘But it is such a choice property, you could let it out and go where you will. Why not London?’

There was a heartbeat’s hesitation before she replied.

‘Bath suits me very well. And my aunt, too. She likes to take the waters. Ah, we are here.’

Susannah was never more glad to reach her destination. She was finding it far too easy to talk to the viscount, but it did not suit her to share her history with him. She released his arm as they entered the Pump Room and led the way towards Mrs Wilby. Her aunt was part of a lively group standing in the curved recess at one end of the room but as Susannah approached the crowd dispersed, leaving Aunt Maude alone to receive them.

‘There you are, Aunt. I hope we have not kept you waiting.’

‘In no wise.’ Mrs Wilby’s smile encompassed them all. ‘I have had a delightful time with my friends.’

‘And drinking the waters, ma’am?’ suggested the viscount.

Mrs Wilby made a face.

‘Ugh, nasty stuff. I never touch it. Tea is my favoured drink here, my lord.’

‘Indeed?’ Lord Markham raised his brows as his glance flickered over Susannah. ‘I thought—’

‘Oh heavens, is that the time?’ Susannah interrupted him hurriedly, looking at the long-case clock by the wall. ‘I hope I do not rush you, Aunt, but Kate and I have an appointment in Henrietta Street later, so we should be on our way back to the Crescent to take breakfast. It is quite a long walk.’

‘We will accompany you!’ declared Gerald promptly.

‘No, no, I will not hear of it,’ replied Susannah firmly. ‘There can be no need of a gentleman’s escort when there are three of us and besides,’ she added with an arch look, ‘how are we to discuss our little secrets if you come with us?’ She held out her hand. ‘We will say goodbye here, if you please.’

‘But I have barely had time to exchange a word with you,’ objected Gerald.

‘Nor have you,’ agreed Mrs Wilby, her kind heart touched by the young man’s despondent look. ‘Perhaps you would like to join us for tea tomorrow afternoon? It is nothing special, of course. We stand on no ceremony, just a few close friends who drop by for a comfortable coze, but you are very welcome to come. And Lord Markham, too, if he would like.’

‘Lord Markham would like, very much,’ said Jasper, amused by Susannah’s obvious disapproval. Those hazel eyes of hers darkened to brown and he read objection in every line of her body, although of course she could not contradict her aunt. He took her hand. ‘Adieu, Miss Prentess. I shall look forward to taking tea with you tomorrow.’

‘Not if you are going to cut me out,’ declared Gerald, half-laughing, half-serious.

‘He will not do that, you may be sure, Ger … Mr Barnabus.’ Susannah’s soft words and warm look killed Jasper’s amusement in an instant. He was still holding her hand and his fingers tightened angrily. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent. ‘My lord?’

Jasper caught his breath. That remark was not for Gerald’s benefit but for his. So the minx wanted to cross swords, did she? A touch of uncertainty entered her gaze. Jasper bowed over her hand in his most courtly style. As his lips brushed her fingers they trembled in his grasp. The lady was not as confident as she would have him believe.

Jasper waited for the spurt of triumph to accompany the thought. It did not come. Instead he was aware of a sudden tenderness, a desire to press that little hand against his heart and assure her of his protection. Shaken, he straightened and released her.

‘That worked out very well,’ commented Gerald, as they watched the ladies walk away. ‘This must be down to you, Jasper. Mrs Wilby has never invited me to take tea before.’

‘Then I hope you are satisfied.’

‘Very. Only, it makes it pretty clear that Mrs Wilby would prefer you as a match for Susannah.’

‘Would that matter to you?’ Jasper asked him. ‘Have you set your heart on marrying her?’

‘Oh, well, you know, she has already told me that she can never think of me as anything other than a friend, but I hope that when she comes to know me better—but she is so good, she is not one to raise false hopes in a fellow.’

‘You know, Gerald, I wonder if Miss Prentess is quite the paragon you make her out to be.’

His cousin laughed at that.

‘Oh but she is, Jasper. Good, kind—a veritable angel. She is quite, quite perfect.’

Jasper shook his head.

‘My poor deluded boy, when you know as much about women as I do you will know there is no such thing!’

‘My mother is convinced of that, certainly. Which reminds me, I had a note from her, asking me to visit. It is still early, I could go today, riding cross country would be a pleasure.’ He put his hand on Jasper’s shoulder. ‘And you can come with me. You will be able to support me when I tell her about Susannah.’

‘Why not, if we can hire a hack for me?’ Jasper swallowed his misgivings. ‘When I left Rooks Tower I sent my horses on to Markham, not expecting to need them in Bath. However— and forgive me if this pains you, Gerald—your mother is not famed for her hospitality, so let us have breakfast first!’

After they had eaten, Jasper and Gerald rode over to Hotwells. Gloriana received them joyfully enough, but when Gerald happily disclosed that he was to take tea in Royal Crescent the following day, the look she threw at Jasper left him in no doubt that she was seriously disappointed in him. She despatched Gerald on an errand to fetch a further supply of tonic from her doctor and as soon as he was out of the door she turned on Jasper.

‘I thought you were going to Bath to save my poor son from this woman?’

‘I was going to look into the matter,’ he corrected her. ‘Having done so, I have given up all plans of returning to Markham for the time being.’

‘Aha. Then you admit my son is ensnared.’

‘Miss Prentess is an heiress, Gloriana. Does that not please you?’

‘If that is the case why did she take his money from him? Besides, she is a nobody, and she is too old for him.’ Gloriana was determined not to be appeased. ‘She is three-and-twenty if she is a day. And her birth—who knows anything about the girl, save that she is heir to the Middlemass fortune?’

He smiled slightly.

‘That would be enough for most mothers.’

Gloriana looked at him and for a moment her guard dropped.

‘I only want his happiness, Markham. If you could assure me of that I could be reconciled.’

‘I wish that were possible, but I cannot believe it.’ He frowned. ‘You know he has offered her marriage, and she refused him?’

‘He wrote to tell me. I hoped that would be the end of it, but today he seems as beguiled as ever.’

‘I know, ma’am. I have failed to find anything against the lady. However, my enquiries about her friend Mrs Logan have proved far more interesting. She is the widow of a soldier and the story goes that he quit the army to open a gambling house in Portsmouth. When Logan died, his widow sold up and came to Bath, where she now lives in respectable retirement. I am not in the habit of listening to the gossip-mongers, but having watched the lady at work at one of Mrs Wilby’s little parties I know that she is very good with the cards. Good enough to be a professional.’ He strode to the window and stood for a moment, looking out. ‘Add that to the skill shown by both Miss Prentess and her aunt and I cannot help thinking that there is more to their little card parties than mere social entertainment. I would wager that at the end of the evening the three ladies come away from the tables considerably richer than they started.’

‘A gaming hell. Oh my heavens.’ Gloriana resorted to her handkerchief. ‘To think my poor boy should be caught in the tangles of such women.’

Jasper shook his head.

‘By London standards the stakes are trivial, and the play is certainly not deep enough to cause concern. There is no faro bank, something which attracted a great deal of criticism when employed by several high-born ladies in London twenty years ago. But the suspicion persists that they run their little parties at the Crescent for profit. Not that there is anything wrong with that, if they would but own it.’

‘In Royal Crescent? It would never be permitted!’

‘No, ma’am, I suppose you are right.’

‘And you have spoken to Gerald about this? You have told him the sort of woman he has given his heart to?’

‘I have tried, but he is deaf to any criticism of Miss Prentess.’ He turned away from the window, his jaw set. ‘My cousin is seriously besotted with the woman. I think he would have to witness the lady’s fall from grace for himself before he would see her for what she really is.’

‘Then that is what must happen.’

There was such an air of grim determination behind the words that the corners of Jasper’s mouth lifted a trifle.

‘I’m afraid wishing won’t make it happen, ma’am.’

‘No, but you could,’ came the confident reply. ‘You have a reputation with the ladies, Markham, your flirtations are forever gracing the society pages. You must seduce Susannah Prentess!’

Chapter Four

Whatever startled response Jasper would have made was silenced by Gerald’s coming back into the room at that moment. Nor was there opportunity to discuss the matter again, for very soon afterwards the gentlemen took their leave. Gloriana squeezed Jasper’s fingers as he bowed over her hand, and the speaking look in her eyes told him that she relied upon him to comply with her outrageous suggestion.

But was it so outrageous? Jasper pondered the matter as he rode back to Bath beside Gerald, the setting sun casting long shadows before them and the chill wind cutting through their coats. If he succeeded in turning the lady’s head then it would destroy his young cousin’s infatuation at a stroke. Many men would not hesitate, but for all his reputation Jasper had never yet set out to make any woman fall in love with him. He might have done so with Zelah, if it had not become plain to him that she was head over heels in love with his brother. She was the only woman he had ever loved, the only woman he had ever considered taking as his wife, so there was no danger that he would succumb to Miss Prentess’s charms. He could flirt with her, court her, even seduce her without risk to himself.

He shifted in the saddle. What of the risk to the lady? If he went that far it would ruin her reputation and she would lose her good name. He hardened his heart. She had every young man in Bath at her feet and from what he had seen at her aunt’s card party she was fleecing them quite ruthlessly. The amounts might be small, but over the weeks they would mount up to a considerable sum. Enough to live quite comfortably. Dammit, the woman was running a gaming hell, she deserved no good name!

‘Eh, what’s that?’ Gerald looked round. ‘Did you say something?’

Jasper glanced at the young man riding beside him.

‘Aye. I was wondering about those little card parties of Mrs Wilby’s. Do you think they profit from them?’

Gerald shrugged.

‘A hundred or two, perhaps. I doubt it is ever more than a monkey.’

‘I should hope not.’ He paused. ‘Does it not concern you that they are making money out of these parties?’

Gerald looked at him.

‘No, why? The sums are negligible.’ He laughed. ‘Mother told me that when she was young the London hostesses made thousands in an evening, especially those who ran a faro bank. And they charged their guests card money, to cover the cost of the new packs. Mrs Wilby does nothing like that. Her parties are for friends to gather together and enjoy themselves.’

‘And lose money.’

‘Not everyone loses.’

‘But enough to make it a worthwhile evening for the hostess.’

‘And why not?’ countered Gerald. ‘We might all go elsewhere and lose a great deal more.’ He shook his head. ‘Let be, Jasper. Those of us who go there choose to do so, and if we lose a few guineas, well, what does it matter? I would lose twice as much to Miss Prentess and think it money well spent.’

Jasper said no more and the subject was not mentioned again during their ride back to Bath. It irked him that Susannah Prentess, with her charming smile and beautiful face, had quite beguiled his cousin, and if he had to make her fall in love with him to free Gerald from her clutches he would do it. He would even risk ruining her good name, if that was the only option, though his innate sense of honour balked at such a course. But it would be a cruel trick to play upon his young cousin. If it was at all possible he would find another way to prove to Gerald that the lady was not the angel he thought her to be.

As soon as they had left the Pump Room, Mrs Wilby made clear her disapproval at being dragged away so precipitately.

‘What will everyone think of you, Susannah? To dash away so suddenly, with Mr Barnabus and the viscount only just arrived.’

‘They will think nothing of it, Aunt. And besides, I am quite out of sympathy with you for inviting them to join us tomorrow.’

‘But why? What possible objection can there be?’

‘None, to Mr Barnabus, but the viscount …’ She bit her lip, wondering how to explain her reluctance to see more of Lord Markham. ‘I think he suspects something.’

Mrs Wilby stopped.

‘Oh heavens, never say so! Oh, Susannah—’ ‘No, no, he can have no inkling of the truth, and Gerald would never tell him, I am sure.’ She took Aunt Maude’s arm and gently urged her on. ‘It is just the comments he made to me, as if he thinks we run some sort of gambling den.’

‘All the more reason, then, for him to take tea with us and see that it is not the case,’ declared Mrs Wilby. ‘A gambling den! How perfectly ridiculous.’

Her aunt’s outraged dignity made Susannah chuckle.

‘But if he is suspicious of you,’ continued Mrs Wilby, ‘perhaps it would be best if you curtailed your visits to …’

‘My dear aunt, I will do nothing of the sort. In fact, I am going there tomorrow morning. Really, I did not realise, when I started this, this project, that there would be so much to do, or that it would cost so much.’

‘If people knew of it, Susannah, they would be quite scandalised.’

‘I am an heiress, Aunt,’ she said drily. ‘They would merely think me eccentric. If only I had control of my fortune now there would be no problem over money, but my uncle has bound it all up so tight I cannot even borrow upon the expectation, unless I go to a money-lender.’

‘Oh heavens, child, pray do not even think of it!’

‘I don’t. But we will need to find extra money soon.’ She sighed. ‘My dependence is upon you and Kate to win a little more at our next card party.’

‘Which will make Lord Markham even more suspicious,’ said Mrs Wilby bitterly. ‘I have a mind not to take tea with anyone tomorrow. I shall write and tell them all I have been laid low with a fever.’

‘No, no, dear Aunt, let them all come. ‘Pon reflection, I think you are quite right. Nothing could be more respectable than the guests you have invited. Lord Markham is most likely to be bored to death and will beat a speedy retreat!’

It was a cold, clear afternoon, but a biting wind made Susannah glad she had ordered her carriage to take her and Kate to Henrietta Street. They drew up on the gentle curve of the street outside one of the elegant three-storey houses, where only the array of fabrics displayed in the window gave an indication that this was not a private residence. A young woman in a plain dark gown opened the door to them.

‘Good day to you, Mabel. Is Odesse upstairs?’

‘Good day, Miss Prentess, Mrs Logan. Yes, Madame Odesse is in the showroom with Mrs Anstruther.’

‘And how is little James?’ murmured Susannah as she followed the girl up the stairs.

‘Oh, he is doing very well, miss, putting on weight just as he should, and sleeping through the night now.’ Mabel cast her a quick, shy smile. ‘It is so good to have him close, where I can keep an eye on him.’

They had reached the landing and Mabel showed them into the large reception room, where a dark-haired woman wearing a plain but exquisitely sewn round gown was talking with a formidable matron in a Pomona-green redingote and matching turban, assuring madame in a lilting foreign accent that her new gown would be completed tout de suite.

She looked up as her new visitors came in, but Susannah waved her hand.

‘No, no, madame, please continue serving Mrs Anstruther. We are happy to browse amongst these new fabrics.’ Her smile included the matron, who quickly looked away.

‘Thank you, I have finished here.’ Mrs Anstruther hastily pulled on her gloves and headed for the door. ‘If you will have the new gown delivered to me this afternoon, madame …’

She hurried out and Madame Odesse shut the door carefully behind her.

‘Miss Prentess, Mrs Logan, how good of you to call. Will you not be seated?’

Susannah noted with a smile that all trace of the vague European accent had disappeared from the modiste’s tone.

‘This continuing cold weather has made it necessary for me to order a new redingote, and I have persuaded Mrs Logan it is time she bought a new gown. We have brought with us a length of silk especially for the purpose.’ Susannah smiled. ‘I trust everything goes well here?’

‘Very well, thank you, we have made some changes.’ Odesse paused. ‘Would you like to come and see?’

‘We would indeed!’

She took them back down the stairs and through a door on the ground floor. The room was alive with quiet chatter, which stopped as they went in. Four young women were present, sitting near the large window. Each one was engaged in sewing the swathe of material spread over her knees, while a nearby table was covered in a confusion of brightly coloured material and threads. Madame Odesse waved an expressive hand

‘This is now our sewing room.’

Susannah smiled at the young ladies but hastily begged them not to get up or stop their work. She was acquainted with them all and knew that each one had a baby to look after. The absence of cribs and crying was noticeable.

‘Where are the children?’ she asked.

‘We take it in turns now to stay in the nursery with the babes,’ offered one of the girls in a shy voice. She added, indicating the cloud of pale-blue woollen fabric on her lap, ‘I am sewing the final seam of your walking dress now, Miss Prentess.’

‘My girls find they prefer to work away from the babies,’ added the modiste. ‘We have six seamstresses living here now, and Mabel, of course, who is proving herself a valuable assistant to me. Two of my girls stay in the nursery while the others get on with the sewing.’

‘And the lace-makers?’ asked Kate. ‘How do they go on?’

‘Very well.’ Madame Odesse’s dark eyes twinkled. ‘The fashion for extensive trimming on gowns could not have come at a better time. Demand is growing for our exclusive lace, and I hope they will be able to train up a few more girls soon.’

‘And have you room for more seamstresses?’

‘Certainly,’ agreed Odesse. ‘If we keep getting new customers then I shall have work for them, too.’

She led them down another flight of stairs to the nursery, where two young women were looking after the babies in a large, comfortably warm room. Susannah and Kate spent some time in the nursery before making their way back upstairs, Susannah declaring herself very satisfied with the arrangements.

‘It appears to be working out very well,’ she remarked, when they were once again in the reception room. ‘The children are content and their mothers seem happy.’

The modiste took her hands and pressed them, saying earnestly, ‘We all appreciate your giving us this chance to keep our babies and earn a living, Miss Prentess.’

‘I am glad to do it, and the gowns you have made for me are very much admired, Olive—I mean Odesse,’ Susannah corrected herself hastily. ‘I beg your pardon!’

The seamstress laughed and shook her head.

‘I would not have you beg my pardon for anything. When I consider what might have happened, to all of us….’ There was a moment’s uneasy silence before she shook off her reflective mood and said brightly, ‘The new apricot silk you ordered arrived this morning, and I know just the design I would like to make for you …’

An hour later the ladies were on their way back to Royal Crescent, a number of packages on the seat beside them and the prospect of more new gowns to follow.

‘I must say, I never thought charity would be so pleasurable,’ declared Kate, smiling. ‘Your idea of setting the girls up in their own establishment was a very good one, Susannah.’

‘I merely made use of Olive’s talent for sewing. She has such a shrewd eye for design, too.’

‘But it is unlikely she would have succeeded alone, and with a young baby to support.’ Kate reached out and squeezed her arm. ‘You should be very proud of yourself, my dear.’

‘I am very proud of my ladies,’ replied Susannah. ‘I have merely provided the means. It is their hard work that is making it such a success.’

‘If only the starched matrons of Bath knew that their gowns were being made by unmarried mothers they might not be so keen to patronise Odesse.’

‘I do not think they care who makes their clothes as long as they are fashionable and a good price,’ retorted Susannah. ‘Florence House, however, is a different matter. News of that establishment will scandalise the sober matrons, so I hope we can keep it a secret, at least until I have control of my fortune and can support it without the aid of Aunt Maude’s card parties.’

Winter would not release its grip and when Jasper rose at his usual early hour the following morning, there was a hint of frost glistening on the Bath rooftops. He decided to take a long walk before breakfast. Enquiries of the waiter in the near-empty coffee room elicited the information that the view from Beechen Cliff was well worth the effort, so he set out, heading south through streets where only the tradespeople were yet in evidence. Striding out, he soon came to the quay and the bridge that took him across the river, and he could begin the climb to Beechen Cliff.

When he reached the heights he considered himself well rewarded. Looking north, Bath was spread out in all its glory below him. Smoke was beginning to rise from the chimneys of the honey-coloured terraces but it was not yet sufficient to cloud his view and his gaze moved past the Abbey until it reached the sweeping curve of the Royal Crescent. Immediately his thoughts turned to Miss Prentess and Gerald. If it wasn’t for those damned card parties he would be inclined to tell Gloriana to give Gerald her blessing and let nature take its course. After all, the lady had refused him once. He would wager that if he was left alone, Gerald would recover from his infatuation and settle down with a suitable young bride in a year or so.

But it was Susannah Prentess who set the alarm bells ringing in his head. Why did a rich young woman need to engage in card parties to raise money? If she was looking for a brilliant match then why was she not in London? With her good looks and her fortune there were plenty of eligible bachelors who would be eager to win her hand. Clearly there was something more to the lady than met the eye, and he was determined to discover it.

The icy wind cut his cheeks, reminding him of his exposed position and a sudden hunger made him eager for his breakfast. Jasper set off on the return journey at a good pace. The streets were busier now with a constant stream of carts and wagons making their way across the bridge. He heard the jingle of harness behind him and looked round. The equipage was quite the smartest to pass him that morning and clearly a private carriage, although there was no liveried footman standing on the back. The sun’s reflection from the river shone through the carriage window and illuminated the interior so that Jasper could see its occupant quite clearly. There could be no mistaking Susannah Prentess’s perfect profile, nor the guinea-gold curls peeping out beneath her silk bonnet. Jasper raised his hat but even as he did so he knew she had not seen him. The lady appeared to be deep in thought. However, Jasper had to own that to see her out and about so early in the day, when most of her kind would be still at their dressing table, did her no disservice in his eyes. His spirits, lifted by the exercise, rose a little higher, and he found himself looking forward to the forthcoming visit to Royal Crescent.

‘Ah, my lord, Mr Barnabus, I am so pleased you could join us.’

Mrs Wilby came forwards as the butler ushered them into the drawing room. There were already a dozen or so people present, grouped around little tables, the same ones that had been used for cards, but they now held nothing more exciting than teacups. Gerald immediately headed for Susannah, who was sitting near the fireplace, dispensing tea. Jasper would have followed, but Mrs Wilby, conscious of her duties as a hostess, gently drew him aside, intent upon introductions. The stares and whispers that had greeted his entrance made it clear that the appearance of a viscount was an occurrence of rare importance. It was therefore some time before he was free to approach Susannah.

Gerald was beside her, and hailed him cheerfully.

‘Come and join us, Markham. I was just telling Miss Prentess how we rode over to Bristol yesterday.’

‘I suspect you wish you were out riding now, my lord.’ There was laughter in her eyes as she regarded him, as well as a hint of an apology. ‘Some of my aunt’s friends appeared to be fawning over you quite disgracefully. And Mr Barnabus assures me that is not something you enjoy.’

‘Aye, I’ve told Miss Prentess that even if you are a viscount you are not at all high in the instep,’ added Gerald, grinning.

‘Very good of you,’ retorted Jasper.

‘Bath is now the home of a great many retired people,’ said Susannah, keeping her voice low. ‘Perfectly genteel, but not the highest ranks of society. I’m afraid some of those present are rather overwhelmed to have a viscount in their midst.’

‘Not overwhelmed enough to be tongue-tied, unfortunately,’ murmured Jasper. ‘The lady in green was particularly garrulous.’

‘Amelia Bulstrode.’ She gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘And her friend, Mrs Farthing. When my aunt told them you were expected they were exceedingly put out. They have sent their girls to dancing class today, you see. But it is no matter. Now they can claim acquaintance they will make their daughters known to you at the first opportunity. But you need not be alarmed,’ she added kindly. ‘They are very well-mannered girls, albeit inclined to giggle.’

‘Nothing wrong with that,’ remarked Gerald nobly. ‘They are very pleasant, cheerful young ladies.’

‘And one of their pleasant, cheerful mothers is approaching,’ muttered Jasper. ‘I shall retreat to that corner, where I see my old friend General Sanstead and his wife. I must pay my respects, you know.’

Susannah’s eyes were brim full of mirth and she mouthed the word ‘coward’ at him before turning to greet Mrs Bulstrode. Jasper made good his escape, but behind him he heard the matron’s carrying voice.

‘If there is more tea, Miss Prentess, I would be happy to refill my cup. So refreshing, is it not? I do not believe those who say it does you no good. Why, they have only to look at you. A picture of health, if I may say so.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Bulstrode. This is a particularly pleasant blend …’

He smiled to himself, appreciating the way she dealt with the overpowering matron. Enjoying, too, that warm, laughing note in her voice.

‘And you are a wonderful advocate for the benefits of tea drinking,’ continued Mrs Bulstrode. ‘You have so much energy, always out and about, like this morning, for example. I saw your carriage at the Borough Walls—’

Jasper halted, under the pretence of removing a speck of dirt from his coat. Perhaps now he might find out what she was doing so early in the day.

‘No, no, ma’am, you are mistaken. I have not been abroad today.’

He turned. Susannah was smiling serenely as she poured more tea for the matron.

‘No? But I made sure it was your carriage …’

‘Very likely,’ returned Susannah, handing her the cup. ‘I believe my aunt sent Edwards to collect some purchases for her. Is that not right, Aunt?’

‘What’s that, dear? Oh, oh, yes—yes, that’s it.’

Mrs Wilby’s flustered response was in itself suspicious, yet if he had not seen Susannah in the carriage with his own eyes Jasper would be as ready as Mrs Bulstrode to believe her story.

Schooling himself, he continued towards General Sanstead. It was clearly not the time to question Miss Prentess, but he would get to the bottom of this. Later.

The General, an old friend, was delighted to see Jasper and kept him talking for some time, asking after the family. The viscount responded suitably and once he had fetched more tea for Mrs Sanstead, he sat down and engaged them in conversation for the next half-hour while he observed the company.

Jasper realised this was a very different gathering from the discreet little card party he had attended. Gerald was staying close to Susannah and Jasper couldn’t blame him, they were by far the youngest people in the room. Apart from Gerald, Jasper could see he was the only unmarried man present and for the most part the visitors were older matrons, who moved about the room, forming groups to gossip and disperse again.

Jasper played his part and was much sought out by the other guests, who were all eager to claim acquaintance with a viscount. No one could have faulted his manners, but he was all the time watching Susannah, and when at last he found her alone beside the tea-table he moved across to join her.

‘No, thank you.’ He put up his hand as she offered him tea. ‘Are your rooms never empty, Miss Prentess?’

‘My aunt enjoys entertaining.’

‘And you?

‘Of course.’

He looked about the room.

‘But this company is not worthy of you, madam.’ She looked at him, her hazel eyes puzzled and he continued. ‘Apart from Barnabus and myself it is all matrons and married couples’

‘This is my aunt’s party, sir.’

‘Perhaps your milieu is the cardroom.’

She looked down, smiling.

‘No, I do not think so.’

Jasper hesitated, wondering if he should mention seeing her on the bridge that morning and into the lull came Mrs Sanstead’s voice as she moved across to join the other married ladies.

‘We are missing Mrs Anstruther today, Mrs Wilby. Is she not well?’

Immediately Miss Prentess was on the alert. Jasper could not fail to notice the way she grew still, nor the wary look in her eye. There was some coughing and shuffling and from the furtive looks in his direction it was clear this was not a subject for his hearing. He turned away, pretending to interest himself in a pleasant landscape on the wall, but not before he had seen Mrs Bulstrode turn quickly in her seat, setting the tassels on her green turban swinging wildly.

‘Lord, Mrs Sanstead, have you not heard? The Anstruthers have retired to Shropshire. They left Bath this morning.’

‘Heavens, that was sudden. When do they mean to return?’

‘Who can tell? Their daughter …’

He could not make out the next words, but he heard Mrs Sanstead sigh.

‘Oh, you mean she is with child? Poor gel.’

‘Yes. I understand she refused to say who the father might be and Anstruther has banished her.’ Mrs Bulstrode’s whisper was easily audible to Jasper’s keen ears. ‘Thrown her out of the house in disgrace.’

‘Flighty piece, I always said so,’ muttered Mrs Farthing with a disdainful sniff. ‘My son William showed a preference for her at one time, but I am glad it came to nought. She has obviously been far too free with her favours.’

‘Whatever she has done she does not deserve to be cast off,’ murmured Mrs Wilby. ‘And what of the father? Do we have any idea who he might be?’

‘No one will say, although there are rumours.’ Mrs Farthing dropped her voice a little and ended in a conspiratorial whisper that somehow managed to carry around the whole room. ‘Mr Warwick.’

‘What? Not the young man we met here the other night?’ exclaimed Mrs Sanstead. ‘Why, he made a fourth at whist, and seemed so charming.’

‘The very same.’ Mrs Farthing nodded. ‘He denies it of course.’

‘Naturally,’ muttered Susannah.

She had not joined the matrons, but she was listening as intently as Jasper. Now he heard her utterance, and saw the angry frown that passed across her brow.

‘But what of Anstruther?’ barked the General, with a total disregard for the fact that the ladies considered their gossip confidential. ‘If it was my gel I’d have it out with the rascal, and if ‘tis true I would make him marry her.’

‘That certainly would be preferable to her being cast out and having to fend for herself,’ sighed Mrs Wilby.

Susannah’s lip curled. ‘An unenviable choice,’ she said, sotto voce. ‘Marriage to a scoundrel, or destitution.’

‘You do not agree, Miss Prentess?’ Jasper kept his voice low, so that only she could hear him. ‘You would rather he did not

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