Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager - By Sarah Mallory Page 0,19
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.’