like for myself. But enough of that. Do go on.’
‘We have only three ladies here at present: Lizzie Burns, Jane and Miss Anstruther.’
‘And how is Lizzie? When I was here last she was not well.’
‘I think we have avoided the fever, but the doctor says she should keep to her bed for another week. However, her baby is now three weeks old and doing well.’
‘That is some good news then. And what of you, Mrs Gifford? How is your sister?’
The older lady’s face was grave.
‘Very poorly, I’m afraid.’
‘Then you must go to her as soon as maybe. The woman we interviewed to replace you—Mrs Jennings—how soon can she be here?’
‘She is moving in this afternoon. I hope to get away this evening.’
‘Good. And you have enough money for your journey?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ The old woman blinked rapidly. ‘Bless you, Miss Prentess, you have been very good. I do not expect to be away for long, I fear my sister’s end is very near.’
‘You must take as long as you need,’ Susannah told her softly. ‘We shall manage here. Now—’ she looked towards the window ‘—if I am not mistaken, the builder has arrived, and we will find out just what work is needed.’
Chapter Six
Susannah’s cheerful, business-like manner did not desert her until she was alone in her carriage on the way back to Bath. Mr Tyler was a tradesman she had used before, and she trusted him not to mislead her, but his report on the house was not encouraging. He had already carried out some of the most urgent repairs but needed payment for the materials he had used before he could continue. He had pleaded his case with her. He was a family man, with debts of his own, and if she couldn’t pay him something now he would have to remove his scaffolding and his men, and once he had left the site he would not be able to return until late summer. She had promised to send him something by the morning, but her concern now was where to find the money.
When she had first embarked upon this project she had approached her uncle’s lawyer, now her own man of business. He had politely but firmly rejected her requests for an advance upon her inheritance. She was allowed sufficient funds to run the house in Bath and a sum that her uncle had considered enough for her personal use, but it would not run to the cost of repairing Florence House.
‘If only we had not lost money at last week’s card party,’ she muttered, staring unseeing at the bleak winter landscape.
However, it was not her nature to be despondent and she put her mind to ways of raising the capital she needed. Her fingers crept up to the string of pearls about her neck. She had inherited her aunt’s jewel box. It was overflowing with necklaces, brooches and rings, most of them quite unsuitable for a single lady. Susannah did not want to sell any of them. They were part of her inheritance and she owed it to her uncle’s memory to keep them if she possibly could. But Florence House was important to her, and she had to do something, and urgently. By the time she reached Bath she had come up with a plan, and when she spotted Gerald Barnabus on the pavement she pulled the check-string and stopped the carriage.
‘Gerald, good day to you! I wonder if I might have a word...’
* * *
March had arrived. The first flowers of spring were in evidence and Jasper was conscious of the fact that he had planned to be back at Markham by now. He was receiving regular reports from his steward, which assured him all was well, but he wanted to be back before Lady Day. The yearly rents were due then and he liked to discuss future agreements with his tenants. Honesty compelled him to admit that there was no real reason for him to stay in Bath, so what was keeping him here? He might argue that it was the mystery surrounding Susannah Prentess, but an uncomfortable honesty forced him to admit that it was the woman herself who fascinated him. It would not do. It would be best if he forgot all about Miss Prentess. When Tuesday dawned he found himself looking forward to going to Royal Crescent that evening. It would be the last time, he promised himself. He would bid goodbye to Mrs Wilby and her enchanting