gaze the valet shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, finally saying in a rush, ‘It’s not like you, sir, to pursue a woman if she ain’t willing.’
Jasper shook his head.
‘Willing be damned. That has nothing to do with it. Miss Prentess said she was going out this morning. I want to know where she is bound. I’ll find out what her secret is if I have to tear Bath apart!’
* * *
By nine o’clock the viscount was washed and dressed in his green riding coat and buckskins. His heavy caped driving coat was thrown over a chair and his hat and gloves rested on the table in readiness. He strode impatiently up and down the sitting room, stopping occasionally to look out of the window, where large feathery flakes of snow could be seen floating down. At last he heard a hasty footstep approaching. Morton entered upon the knock.
‘Well?’ Jasper barked out the word.
‘I saw the carriage setting off, my lord, and followed it, as you ordered. It went as far as a house just this side of Priston. On the Wells Road.’
‘And you can find it again?’ demanded Jasper, shrugging himself into his driving coat.
‘Aye, my lord. The curricle is at the door now, but the weather’s turning bad. The snow is beginning to settle.’
‘Then the sooner we get started the better.’
* * *
The horses were fresh and Jasper had to concentrate to keep them in check as they trotted through the quiet streets. It was early yet, and the snow was keeping all but the very hardy indoors. Once they had crossed the bridge and were settled upon the Wells Road he gave them their heads and they rattled along at a cracking pace. It was snowing heavily now, coating the ground and hedges and making it difficult to see far ahead. Beside him, Morton hunched down into his coat and muttered occasionally about the folly of travelling in such weather. Jasper was beginning to agree with him and was contemplating abandoning his journey when the snow eased and the dense cloud lifted a little.
‘There, we shall go on easily now.’
‘Aye, my lord, ‘til the weather sets in again,’ retorted Morton with all the familiarity of an old and trusted retainer. ‘I mislike the look of that sky. If you was to ask me we should turn back now.’
Jasper looked up. The grey, sullen clouds matched his mood exactly.
‘Well I am not asking you,’ he snapped ‘You applied goose-fat to the horses’ feet, didn’t you, to prevent the snow from balling? So we should be good for a few hours yet. We shall turn back once I have discovered Miss Prentess’s secret and not before.’
The journey had done much to cool Jasper’s temper but nothing to quell his determination to find out what could persuade Susannah to drive out on such a morning. This had nothing to do with Gerald, it was purely for his own satisfaction. His wrists were still sore from that silk rope, but he was not a vindictive man, he bore her no grudge for that... Well, not much of a grudge. The woman intrigued him. She had rejected him, and he was not used to that. On the contrary most women were only too willing to accept his advances.
When he and his twin had entered society as young men they had the advantages of being wealthy and handsome. The ladies had literally fallen at their feet and they had learned to take such adulation as their due. They had flirted outrageously and become known as the dark and notorious Coale twins. Now, Jasper had the added advantage of a title. He had never had to fight for a woman in his life. He had only to cast his discerning eye upon a female and in most cases she would fall eagerly into his arms. If a lady showed any reluctance then he shrugged and moved on. No rancour, no regret.
He wondered if he had become too complacent, arrogant, even, where women were concerned. He had never had to work for their good opinion, merely taken it for granted. He had always assumed that when he eventually fell in love the lady would feel the same and it had come as something of a shock three years ago when he had proposed to Zelah Pentewan and been refused. However, she was head over heels in love with his twin and he could understand that, only berating himself for not discovering the state