Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager - By Sarah Mallory Page 0,65

in some worthy cause.’

The dowager sipped at her wine, a slight crease furrowing her brow. Jasper waited patiently, knowing better than to disturb the old lady. At last she looked up, a glimmer of a smile on her sharp features.

‘Very well, I will do it. If only to confound the Bath tabbies!’

Chapter Twelve

When Saturday dawned wet and windy, Susannah and Mrs Wilby decided to remain indoors. They settled quietly to their sewing, although Susannah’s work remained untouched on her lap for most of the time. Her thoughts kept going back to the viscount and his refusal to admit he had spoken to anyone about Florence House. She had seen too many of the young men in Bath bluster and boast. One could not rely on any of them, but it surprised her how much it hurt her to know the viscount was one of their number. She had thought him different from the rest. She had hoped—quickly she stifled her half-formed thoughts. She would think no more about it. When Mrs Wilby addressed some remark to her she replied briefly and bent her head over her tambour frame once more. She had thought herself quite content with her lot, but recently she had to admit that the future as an unmarried lady seemed rather a lonely one.

Susannah was surprised out of this melancholy train of thought by Gatley coming in to announce a visitor.

‘The Dowager Countess of Gisburne?’ Aunt Maude dropped her sewing in amazement. ‘But we do not know—I saw her name in Mr King’s visitors’ book, but—oh, show her up, Gatley, show her up! Good heavens, what on earth has brought a dowager countess to our door?’

‘I have no idea, Aunt, but we shall soon know.’ Susannah quickly put away the sewing things while her aunt patted her cap and straightened her gown.

The Dowager was a thin, formidable-looking figure, her severe black gown relieved by a vast quantity of white lace. Her dark, bird-like eyes rested for a moment on Susannah as she entered the room, before she turned her attention to Aunt Maude.

‘Mrs Wilby, we have not been introduced, but I hope you will forgive the intrusion when you know my business.’

Murmuring, Aunt Maude rose from her curtsy and begged the dowager to be seated.

She moved to a sofa and sat down, saying in her forthright manner, ‘I believe you are responsible for an establishment near here. Florence House.’

Susannah looked up.

‘Goodness me, ma’am, however did you hear of that?’

Those sharp eyes flickered over her again, and Susannah saw the gleam of amusement in their depths.

‘The rumour mill in Bath is quite inexhaustible, Miss Prentess. You may know, Mrs Wilby, that I am very interested in such causes. I would like to help you.’

Aunt Maude threw an anguished glance towards Susannah, who replied cautiously, ‘That is very gracious of you, ma’am, but I am not sure...’

‘Oh come, ladies, I have not been in Bath long but one visit to the Pump Room was sufficient for me to know that your little scheme has set up the backs of the Walcot Street committee. Will you deny that your present funding is inadequate?’

‘No, we will not deny that,’ replied Susannah.

‘Good.’ The dowager put down her cane. ‘Then let us discuss it!’

* * *

When at last Lady Gisburne had been shown out, Mrs Wilby fell back in her chair.

‘Heavens, my head is fairly spinning.’

‘I admit she is a very forceful personality,’ agreed Susannah, smiling slightly, ‘but her patronage—and her money!—will be most welcome.’

‘But can we believe her when she says she will leave the control of Florence House in our hands?’

‘Oh, I think so, but that is something we can go over once the papers are drawn up.’ Susanna stood by the window, watching the dowager being helped into her carriage. ‘I liked her plain speaking. She is very knowledgeable about how we should proceed. With Lady Gisburne as patroness I think the future of Florence House is assured.’

‘And Odesse,’ added Mrs Wilby. ‘My lady agreed we should not make her connection with Florence House public knowledge, but she was keen to see her work.’

Susannah chuckled.

‘From the prodigious amount of lace on the dowager’s gown, her patronage alone should bring plenty of work for the modiste and the lace-makers.’ She turned back to her aunt. ‘It is a great relief to me,’ she admitted. ‘I do not mind if Bath society shuns me, but the thought of not being able to support the house, or the girls—’ She broke