Blame It on Bath Page 0,124

him a great deal better if he hadn’t been responsible for everyone deserting us to carry up his luggage,” she replied.

“And his carriage is so elegant! Everything a gentleman should be, I’m sure,” went on Eugenie, either ignoring or not hearing Tessa’s comment. “How fortunate we should be in Bath at the same time, at the very same hotel! I do believe Lady Woodall mentioned his name recently—oh, she shall be in transports that we have seen him! What was it she was saying about him?” Her brow knitted anxiously. “I’m sure it was some bon mot that would amuse you, my dear . . .”

Tessa suppressed a sigh. She didn’t listen to Louise’s gossip, and Eugenie didn’t remember it. What a pair they made. She shifted her weight; her shoes were beginning to pinch her feet.

Lord Gresham smiled, then laughed at whatever was said outside, and finally walked into the hotel. He moved like a man who knew others would pause to watch him walk by. It was the bold, unhurried stride of someone with the world in his pocket and had a whiff of predatory grace, as if he understood just how arresting his appearance was and meant to use it to his best advantage. Because Eugenie was right: he was a blindingly attractive man.

Tessa had learned the hard way to be wary of very attractive men. They often thought it counted for too much, and in her experience, a handsome man was not a man to be trusted. And this man, who not only had the face of a minor deity but an earldom and, from the looks of his clothing, a substantial income, was nearly everything she had come to mistrust and dislike. That was all without considering how he had inconvenienced her, however unknowingly. Together, it pushed her strained temper to the breaking point. She arched her brows critically and murmured to Eugenie, “He looks indolent to me.”

Here the earl committed his second grievous offense. He was several feet away from her, with Mr. Lucas hovering beside him and a servant—probably his valet—trailing close behind, and yet when she spoke the peevish words in a hushed whisper, Lord Gresham paused. When his head came up and he turned to look directly at her with startling dark eyes, Tessa knew, with a wincing certainty, that he had heard her.

Eugenie sucked in her breath with a long, whistling wheeze. She sank into a deep curtsey, dragging Tessa down with her. Chagrined at being so careless, Tessa ducked her head and obediently curtseyed. She fervently wished she had arrived half an hour earlier, so she and Eugenie could have been comfortably ensconced in their rooms before he appeared. Now she would have to be very certain she never ran into the earl again; if he remembered her face, or heaven forbid, learned her name and connected her to Louise, her sister would quite possibly murder her.

For a moment the earl just looked at her, his gaze somehow piercing, even though she still thought he looked like a languid, lazy sort. Then, incredibly, one corner of his mouth twitched and a sinful smile slowly spread over his face, as if he knew every disdainful thought she’d had about him, and was amused—or even challenged—by them. Tessa could hear Eugenie gasping for air beside her, and she could feel the heat of the blood rushing to her cheeks, but she couldn’t look away. Still smiling in that enigmatic, wicked way, Lord Gresham bowed his head to her, and then finally—finally—walked away.

“Oh, my,” moaned Eugenie. Her fingers still dug into Tessa’s arm, and it took some effort to pry her off and lead her to a chair in the corner. “Oh, my . . .”

“I’m sorry,” said Tessa, abashed. “I never dreamed he would overhear; I was wrong to say it out loud. But Eugenie, he won’t remember. Or if he does, it will be some amusing story he tells his friends about the shrewish lady at the York Hotel.”

“What if we see him again?” whispered Eugenie in anguish. “He might remember, Tessa, he might! And your sister, so hopeful about her new life in London! He’s quite an established member of the haut ton; he could ruin her!”

“I will hide my face if he approaches,” she promised. “You know I would never deliberately upset Louise—and you shouldn’t either. Telling her about this will only send her into a spell and cause her to worry needlessly.” It would also unleash a