“Not so tight, Thomas. Breathing is desirable, if you don’t mind.” This was definitely not his idea of a good time—promenading through the Pump Rooms—but Gil wanted to take the waters, and it was what one did while in Bath. Insufferable social customs. “Would you hurry? I thought we discussed this.”

The valet scowled up and him and gave another hard tug on the neck cloth, but didn’t respond.

Alex groaned. His valet held far more concern for his appearance than he did. He just wanted to get this morning over with.

The previous day’s journey had proven difficult for Gil. His coughing fits grew more pronounced, and more frequent to Alex’s estimation, the longer they were in that blasted carriage. He would prefer to stay in their hotel that day, in order to allow the earl enough time to recover from the trip. Gil, however, seemed disinclined to listen to the young whippersnapper’s ideas on the matter.

Taking the waters was never Gil’s true intention in traveling to Bath. The actual purpose of the visit surely had more to do with his business than the Roman Baths. Alex had his own ideas on what that particular business might entail, but he wouldn’t force his friend to disclose anything until he was ready. Lord Rotheby would be meeting with his man-of-business to discuss details of the entailments on his properties. What else could it be? It wouldn’t surprise Alex one whit if the man was trying to keep as much as possible from his grandson. Lord Quinton had always been a wild one, if memory served—though since his marriage, he seemed to have settled somewhat.

He should be in Somerton, resting at Roundstone Park, but instead he was traipsing all over Somerset, seeing to affairs that would no longer affect him after he passed.

Thomas finished his torture and excused himself just as the viscount arrived in Alex’s chamber.

“Ah, good, I see you’re dressed. Are you ready? I’d like to start our day.” Gil slumped in his stance as he groped for his cane—yet another sign that he should stay at the hotel and rest instead of meeting some blasted social ritual. One couldn’t tell from his tone that anything was amiss, however. He seemed as chipper and falsely gruff as ever.

Alex offered an arm for his friend to lean on. “I’m as ready to deal with this infernal business as I’ll ever be, but I will have you know I’m not at all happy with it. But you already know my feelings on the matter.” He let out an audible sigh at the look of grim resolve on the earl’s face. “I’ve already ordered a carriage brought around. They should be downstairs preparing for our departure.”

The walk to the Pump Rooms was not far, but Alex wouldn’t risk overtiring Lord Rotheby so early in the day. If he must suffer through this ordeal, he would at least do everything in his power to take good care of the older man in the process.

Not that the earl made the task easy. He grumbled beneath his breath something along the lines of he could damned well walk, but what alternative did Alex have? He would concede to the older man on certain points, but on this one he refused to budge.

They traveled in silence. By the time they arrived, a number of fashionable people were already milling about the room in groups of twos and threes. Some stood near the Grecian columns and carried on in-depth conversations. Those who were sickly made their way to the end of the room to drink from the waters. Alex and Gil had scarcely arrived before various desirables made their way over to greet them.

The Countess of Trent swooped in on them like a huntress after her prey, with her greying yellowed locks in a loose knot behind her head. The woman’s sharp nose led her forward, with the rest of her following close behind. “Lord Rotheby! How pleasant to see you in Bath again, sir. I see you’ve brought your friend Lord Alexander with you. Quelle surprise.”

She placed one arm through each of theirs and walked around the room, effectively trapping them in her grasp.

“You know, my lord, you really ought to grace us with your presence more often. Bath is not such a far jaunt from Somerton. It’s quite unfair of you to hole yourself up in that manor house of yours. Why, Lady Kensington just told me how you visit their cottage all the time, and I thought to myself the Kensingtons were not sharing you very well with the rest of us. Of course, she failed to mention that you were also in Bath today, the wretch. I’ll have to give her a piece of my mind for not sharing the most delightful news!”

The Kensingtons were in Bath? Alex stopped in his tracks momentarily, but Lady Trent soon pulled him along again. If the Kensingtons were here, then Lady Grace would be as well.

He searched the crowded room to catch a glimpse of her before berating himself. He was supposed to be avoiding her, not seeking her out. Blast, it wasn’t any sort of an impossible goal. But how could he avoid thinking about the woman whose eyes had become his constant companion at night, who set his loins aflame with a simple glance?

Lady Trent then turned her attentions from Rotheby to him. “And you, Lord Alexander. Where have you and your family been hiding all this time? I declare, we have seen neither hide nor hair of any of the Hardwickes in an age. His Grace, your brother—he must be out of mourning now, isn’t he? You know my youngest daughter, Lady Cecelia, would be just perfect for him. I’m certain she could help him to forget all about his first duchess.”

The woman’s audacity spawned a glare in him, which he neglected to quell.

“Oh goodness me, there are the Marquess and Marchioness of Coulter. I must speak with them. Please do excuse me, gentlemen. Lady Trent swooped away from them as fast as she had come, and Alex could not be more pleased to see her go.

He eased over to Gil’s side to provide him assistance in walking without being too obvious. “Relax, Alex,” the older man said. “She’s moved on to her next targets. She’ll not bother us again, but will simply gossip about us.” He smiled weakly. “She’s still convinced she will marry me. Ever since Trent passed away five years ago, she’s been hounding me. All the woman cares about is money and status.” He let out a heaving sigh and shook his head. “I think there are much more important things in this lifetime to focus my attentions on. Now, what did she say about the Kensingtons? Have you spotted your young lady yet?” The twinkle was back in the earl’s eyes. “I think I’ll go and take some of the waters while you search for better company.” Gil straightened and detached himself.

“She is most certainly not my young lady,” Alex called after his friend. The exasperation in his tone rang out in the grand hall. How would he ever convince himself to stay away from her if no one in his blasted life would cooperate?

“Well, if she is not your young lady yet, perhaps you should do something about it. Time is wasting, my friend. And you never know how much you’ll have. If you do nothing, I’m quite sure another man will come along and snatch her out from under your nose. Perhaps a Mr. Maxwell?”

Rotheby walked away, leaving him alone in the center of the huge hall. He turned about, trying to spot anyone he recognized.

While he did find someone he knew, the particular someone he found was not anyone he wanted to converse with. Alex turned in the opposite direction, walking away from Lord Overstreet and hoping to find a diversion. The bastard had no sense of decorum, and Alex wanted nothing less than to be associated with the man.

In his haste to escape Overstreet’s company, he walked straight into another, far more acceptable, acquaintance. “My apologies, Sir Laurence! I didn’t see you there. I must admit, my distractions got the better of me.”

Sir Laurence glanced over Alex’s shoulder and gave him a consolatory look before glancing across at Overstreet.

“Lord Rotheby just left me to take the waters,” Alex continued. “I’m sure he would love to see you. We were unaware you had come to Bath.”

Sir Laurence placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder in a show of camaraderie and smiled. “Come, join us. We’ll keep you company, and Overstreet will have no reason to interrupt. He and I have never been on the best of terms, to put it mildly.” His conspiratorial tone made Alex like the man even more.

He led Alex to where his wife and niece were conversing quietly. “Look who I bumped into, my dears. Our neighbors have also come to Bath.”

A brief flash of panic swept across Lady Grace’s features, just as soon replaced by a bland expression she showed obvious difficulty in achieving. Apparently, she was no more in favor of their continued association than he.

“Ladies.” Alex bowed his head to them.

“Oh, Lord Alexander. How fine it is to see you here. I assume you’re not alone? Is Lord Rotheby with you?” Lady Kensington grasped his hand with clear euphoria before scanning the crowds for a glimpse of the earl. However much he may wish to avoid Lady Grace, he was unable to deny her aunt’s exuberant display of affection for him.

“Yes, ma’am, he should return shortly. I’m sure you can speak with him as long as you like. Lady Trent was kind enough to inform us she already encountered your family this morning.” He coughed beneath his breath.

“Oh, that beast of a woman! Such a dragon. Did she make a go at Lord Rotheby again? I would wager she did.” Lady Kensington’s face filled with color as she went into a rant about the countess. “She’s been after Lord Rotheby since the day her husband died, if not before. I declare—oh! Why, Lord Rotheby, so good of you to join us.”

“Lady Kensington, Lady Grace. Sir Laurence.” Gil greeted them each in turn. He shook the baronet’s hand. “How wonderful to see you all again, and quite surprising, I might add, to see you here in Bath. Are you here for some shopping?” He took a swig of the water in his hands. “I daresay there is little opportunity for that in Somerton, although we do have a few shops that will carry some decent goods on occasion. Lady Grace, you shall find much more variety and quality here. Myself, I came for the waters.” He held up the glass, as though to prove his point. “I must say, I’m not very fond of their taste, but they are reputed to have excellent healing qualities.”

Gil pulled a face as he took another sip from his glass. “I hope they shall help cure me of this interminable cough. After a few days of drinking from them, I suppose we shall see. If I live that long, that is. Tastes like it has been poisoned.”

Alex wondered how many days the man considered a few.

At that moment, Lady Kensington looked across the room. Alex caught a gleam in her eyes the moment she started to speak. He’d be damned if she wasn’t up to something again. The blasted woman schemed too much.

“Goodness gracious me, is that Captain and Mrs. Marshall across the way? I do believe it is. Laurence, Lord Rotheby, we simply must go and speak with them. It has been far too long. Hurry along, they are alone at the moment.”

She hauled the two men with her. Lady Grace glared at her aunt as the older woman led Sir Laurence and Rotheby away. Then Lady Kensington feigned a sudden remembrance that Alex and her niece had been with them. “Oh dear, we are leaving these two without a thought! How horrid of us.”

With a pleading look, she turned to Alex. “My lord, do be a dear and entertain our Gracie for us. We could take the two of you with us to speak with the Marshalls, but I do fear you would both become dreadfully bored in the company of so many older people.”

She patted the back of his hand as if he were a good puppy, and turned on her way, leaving her niece seething beneath the surface, presumably because the chit was once again alone in his company. “What a sweet boy he is. He’s quite good to us all, Lord Rotheby.” Her voice trailed off as they disappeared through the crowded Pump Room.

Lady Grace tried to stifle a groan as she turned to face Alex, but he heard it leak through. They eyed each other warily. How would they ever manage to avoid each other at this rate?

She faced him with a look full of consternation. “I suppose it is my turn to apologize. It seems despite what our wishes may be, my aunt has other plans in mind. I’m very sorry.”

What kind of response could Alex give to such a statement? Now he would to be stuck in a very public, very social setting, with a woman who wanted to be anywhere other than with him, for Lord only knew how long. He wanted to make the best of the situation, but honestly didn’t have the first inkling how to go about it.

His mind drifted back to a few days before, when she had painted the scene at the river. He wished he could see her like that again, with all the joy and freedom she had experienced. But she only seemed to experience panic, fear, and discomfort while in his general vicinity—at least if she was aware of his presence.

“My lady, I truly believe you had nothing to do with that. There’s no need to apologize.” He glanced around the room for a few moments as he debated what else to say to her.

She remained silent—a trait he now expected in her but which rankled, nonetheless.

Her silence lasted just a touch too long. His aggravation finally got the better of him and he snapped, “Am I thoroughly disagreeable to you, ma’am? Am I so horrible you are unable to converse with me at all, or is something else wrong? I’ve apologized to you repeatedly for taking liberties in Lord Rotheby’s garden, and for everything else under the sun. I don’t know what else I can do to convince you to speak to me. You could at least make some effort at being civil. Lord knows I have made enough efforts for the both of us.”

Her eyes grew wide, and then slowly filled with heat. “You…you…how dare you! May I remind you, sir, you are the one who took those very liberties you speak of with me.” She stood with her hands haughtily on her hips and her icy eyes turned to deep, blue flames of anger. “I didn’t ask you to do so, I didn’t encourage you to do so, and I most certainly didn’t want you to do so. That was entirely your choice. You’ve made it abundantly clear you only suffer my presence as a favor to Lord Rotheby and my aunt and uncle. Yet you continue to stare lasciviously at me, leaving me thoroughly baffled as to what, precisely, you want from me.”

Her voice rose no more than a whisper as she built a head of steam. Now that she had started, Alex worried she might never stop her tirade. Yet this harangue of hers was intriguing. She suddenly had so very much to say.

He stood in the middle of the Pump Room with his mouth agape, unsure of how to proceed other than allow her to continue her verbal assault. So he did.

“I do not know how to act around you. I’ve tried to ignore you, as you seemed disinclined to my company, and I therefore assumed you would prefer that reaction. So how, pray tell, am I supposed to react? I’ve tried to stop you from making a gargantuan mistake, but you seem to have an aversion to accepting my assistance. I would very much like to help you by doing whatever it is you want, but I’m quite incapable of interpreting your thoughts. So, my lord, why don’t you tell me what to do and save us both a good deal of trouble? It would alleviate the ache that is rapidly building in my head.”

Lady Grace finally took a breath, and waited. By this point, most of the room openly stared at the two of them, some with their jaws hanging open, others seeming to note every word said so they could rush to the nearest gossip and fill them in on these newest, juicy on-dits. Her words, while hardly more than a whisper, seemed to echo in the spacious area.

Alex, too, heard every word she’d hissed at him. Yet he had listened to only a few. The passion she displayed entranced him. She was normally so cold and collected, never losing the veneer of control she kept such tight rein over.

Yet that had all gone by the wayside, and he could think of nothing but how beautiful she looked when angry. Her eyes had flashed and flared, and some strands of her hair had pulled free from the exacting knot and whipped about her face. He wanted to capture her passion, to hold onto it for a later moment when she resumed her cold demeanor.

Alex yearned to touch her.

Maddening. Most men would do anything to avoid infuriating a lady, but he was formulating ways he could do so again. He loved seeing her out of control, reckless and passionate. He wanted more. So much more.

Without a thought to the consequences of his actions or the audience that had gathered, he closed the distance between them and kissed her. Greedy this time, he took more than he gave. One hand fisted in the knot of hair at the nape of her neck and worked to free more of it than was already framing her face, while the other drew her closer to him so he could feel her length against him.

Their audience drew in a collective, scandalized breath, which appeared to register with Lady Grace. She struggled against him, but he would prefer to ignore them. However, she increased her struggles and pushed hard against his chest to separate them. Reluctantly, Alex relinquished his hold.

She took a calming breath, then another, and a third, all while glaring daggers of ice-blue fire into his eyes. Then she reached a hand up and slapped him across his cheek. “You forget yourself, sir,” she spat out. Then she turned on her heels and fled, with the Kensingtons close behind.

Alex started to follow her as well, but Gil appeared as if from nowhere and placed a hand on his arm. “Let her go, Alex. This will all be sorted out. Just let her go for now.”

So he did.