It was raining the next morning and the two girls arrived at the Pump Room rather wet. When they entered, it was fairly crowded and there was a cheerful buzz of conversation. Lizzie spotted the Keatings and started in their direction. Sarah was following when she saw Sir Thomas Thatcham and stopped to exchange a few words. He smiled courteously on seeing her and bowed with old-fashioned elegance.
‘Are the waters doing you good, sir?’ she asked, with a mischievous glance.
He gave her a sharp look from under his brows then chuckled. ‘It is to be hoped they have some positive effect. They taste even worse than their reputation.’
‘In that case, they are certainly beneficial,’ she assured him. They were both laughing when a figure suddenly appeared at her side. It was Greg. Her wayward heart beat faster and she had to struggle to hide her pleasure as she acknowledged his greeting. She looked from him to his father. How closely they resembled each other, not only in their features, but with the same tall, broad-shouldered frame. They both had the same open, direct look.
But while Sir Thomas had the more elaborate manners of her own parents’ generation, Greg was every inch the bluff soldier. So far he had seemed very straightforward in his dealings with her. Yet now she had the suspicion that he was seeking her out simply to enquire about her family. Why was he interested in James? There could be no connection through gambling.
Like a bolt of lightning, a phrase she had overheard shot through her: the brother is making enquiries. Could it be…? Was it possible that there was a link? The idea made her feel breathless with suspense. She had to find out more from James.
In the whirl of these unpleasant ideas, she did not hear Greg speak to her. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘Miss Davenport….’
At this she looked up and he went on, ‘You seem rather cast down. I trust last night’s exertions were not too fatiguing for you?’
She made an effort to appear at ease. ‘I am not such a fragile creature as to be worn down by one assembly. In fact, it was very enjoyable.’
His amber eyes shone. ‘I am glad to hear it. I already know how energetic Lizzie is. So, if you also enjoy exercise, perhaps I can suggest that we all take a walk around the Beechen Cliff – on the next fine day, that is.’ He looked ruefully at his father. ‘I will reserve the offer of a drive until I have strengthened my arm. My father has made me promise that I will be cautious.’
The older man nodded gravely. ‘We are here to get you well, so we will stick to the doctor’s advice.’
Greg caught Sarah’s eye before looking away hastily. She saw the darker colour stain his cheekbones. He had been an officer in the bloody war being fought in Spain and no doubt had faced terrible danger and hardship countless times. But he could not say a word. Sarah understood. Sir Thomas was reacting to the loss of his eldest son by watching over this one with over-protective care.
She smiled at both of them. ‘How fortunate you are, sir, to have such a loving parent.’
Sir Thomas gave her a nod, bowed and walked away to return his glass to the attendant. She watched him greet an elderly lady and, as he lingered, chatting to her, another dowager joined them. Sarah’s eyes narrowed in amusement.
‘Your father seems to be quite at home in Bath.’ She turned back to Greg, who had recovered his usual poise by now. He glanced at his father and smiled. ‘It seems half of his old London friends are here. I am glad of it.’
While he watched his father, Sarah inspected him. As always he had a splendid appearance. Today he wore a smart russet jacket and snowy cravat. His buckskins emphasized the powerful muscles of a man who spent many hours in the saddle and his boots were dazzling. Her eyes travelled up to his lean face and coppery hair. She felt like a fly being relentlessly attracted into a spider’s web.
Then suddenly, the spell was broken. She gave a gasp of horror. Not two yards away Lord Percival was in conversation with another very rakish-looking man. She heard his bray of laughter. She stiffened with dismay. Her escape had been short indeed!
At length she heard Greg’s voice as if from far away. ‘Miss Davenport? Are you quite well? You have gone very pale.’
Slowly she raised her eyes to his. There was no way she could explain the problem. He put a hand under her elbow. ‘Come,’ he said, I think you need to find a seat.’ He gently pulled her along, out of the Pump Room and into the wide entrance area. Here he found a bench and pushed her down on to it.
Sarah was angry with herself for being so weak. Her knees were trembling and she was finding it hard to focus her thoughts. She was conscious of Greg’s kind help and made a pitiful attempt to smile. ‘Thank you, I am well again now. I am sorry to be so troublesome.’
He bent over her. ‘What happened? It seemed you received a terrible shock.’
She nodded. ‘Yes. I – I saw someone I did not expect to find in Bath.’ She drew a shuddering breath. ‘I cannot say more.’
Greg frowned down at her, looking very like his father. ‘Is this person likely to cause you annoyance?’
She looked at him miserably. What could she say? There was a long silence.
‘Will you not tell me his name?’
Sarah hesitated. Unconsciously, she started twisting a curl. This time, Greg took no notice.
‘I will soon discover it, you know,’ he said quietly. ‘Is it the same person who claimed you for the dance at the ball in London two weeks ago?’
Sarah clasped her hands firmly. It was foolish to act like a vapourish little miss. And Greg was only trying to help.
He is Lord Percival, the Earl of Ramsdale.’
If she had thrown a bucket of cold water over him it could not have had a greater effect. Sarah almost forgot her own woes as she watched Greg’s head jerk back in shock. He definitely went pale. Then his face hardened. Sarah glimpsed the steel that underlay his usual pleasant expression. He stared at her out of narrowed eyes. She sensed a withdrawal. And that was the last straw.
‘I do try to avoid him,’ she said in a low voice, ‘but he is my brother’s particular friend. I cannot ignore him.’
He nodded slowly. ‘I understand,’ he said at last. ‘You are in a difficult situation.’
She stood up and squared her shoulders. ‘At least I am prepared now. But I prefer to keep away from him if I can. Would you be kind enough to tell Lizzie I forgot something and returned home?’
‘I can escort you if you wish. Indeed, you still look pale.’
And so do you! But why should that name have such an effect on him? Sarah forced a smile to her lips. ‘Thank you but I am perfectly well. It is a very short walk to Milsom Street.’
It was clear she wanted to be alone. Greg watched as she set off, a slender figure under her umbrella, picking her way round the puddles. Now he had the key to her anxieties. But it was going to be a tricky matter to help her. He turned back towards the Pump Room. It would only be a question of time before someone introduced him to Lord Percival and then the subject of the gaming debt would arise.
Sarah’s reaction to Lord Percival was most instructive. It made Greg more determined than ever to discover just what had happened at that hunting party where his brother had died. As he wove a path through the crowd in search of Lizzie, he decided that his first task was to make the acquaintance of Sarah’s brother and see what he could find out from him.
Lizzie was at the far end of the room, in the midst of a group of people and chattering happily. Greg paused for a moment. He was shaken at how savagely the bitter anger over the loss of his brother had surged up again. He must not show any sign of that.
As if to remind him of his other woe, his arm was aching like the devil after the previous night’s exertions on the dance floor. He tucked his elbow into his side and moved towards Lizzie, summoning up a polite smile.
Lizzie caught sight of him and stepped forward. The group of people all turned as she did so. ‘Here you are at last,’ she said brightly. ‘Let me introduce you to the Earl of Ramsdale. Lord Percival, this is Major Thatcham.’