Blame It on Bath Page 0,49

and body, but also finally at some peace. When she startled herself awake for the second time, she decided to go to bed. She set the screen in front of the fire and was just moving to blow out the lamps when she felt a breath of cool air at her back. Slowly she turned, and lounging in the doorway was her husband, watching her.

“Good evening, my lady,” he said, his voice a silky rumble.

Katherine froze. Her stomach took a giant leap, then plummeted to her knees. He looked tousled and vital and utterly focused on her.

“I trust you’ve had your bath, and a good dinner,” he added.

Mutely she nodded.

“Very good.” He stepped into the room and closed the door. “Then let’s go to bed.”

Chapter 11

Gerard hadn’t been in Bath half a day, and already he was displeased with the place.

First there was the house. He had told Bragg to take a fashionable place across the river near Sydney Gardens, for the sake of his privacy and also for Kate’s. She had spent most of her time in the country, and he’d never heard her express any sadness at that. She was a quiet woman, and if she wanted to spend her time in solitary walks through the countryside, he wanted to make it easier for her to do so. Gerard remembered the gardens across the River Avon as lush and beautiful, almost idyllic. Instead of all that, however, Bragg had only managed to find a house in Queen Square, right in the fusty middle of Bath. No doubt their neighbors would be gossiping old ladies who would peck at Kate and him the entire time. Bragg threw up his hands and declared everything in Sydney Gardens was taken, and this was the best he could find. Gerard sighed and waved it off because Bragg was usually right; but he wasn’t happy to be installed so awkwardly and uncomfortably in the town.

He left Kate to her bathing, thinking she deserved some peace after the last two days, but the urge to get out and do something still roiled under his skin. There was very little he could do at that hour, but Gerard remembered where the taverns were, so he put on his coat again and went out, striding along the pavements that gradually narrowed as he left the better part of town. The stench of the river grew worse, rank with horses and offal and other smells he didn’t care to investigate. He stepped around a pair of whores loitering on the pavement and ducked into a tavern. It was smoky and loud, just the sort of carousing place he was used to in the army. He ordered a pint of ale and found a seat at a table by the door.

The simplest approach, and therefore probably the best, was the most direct. Gerard had one principal clue to the blackmailer’s identity: the letters themselves. With luck, the post office in Bath, where two of the letters had originated, would be able to shed some light on the sender. There were receiving houses all over town, but he planned to start with the main post office. Once he had a name, or a description, the real hunt could begin.

He finished his ale and left the pub, walking until the night sky was a canopy of black speckled with stars. The exercise did much to settle his mind, and he finally returned to Queen Square, where Bragg had a cold dinner and a full report waiting for him. His man had a habit of reporting back to him as if they were still on campaign, and tonight was no different. Bragg was a keen observer, so Gerard ate and listened in silence as he divulged what he knew of the neighbors—not much as yet, although there were, as expected, several curious older ladies on the Square anxious to meet the new tenants—and the house and servants. The upstairs maid was inclined to sloth, but the cook was good, and the footman had been put on notice that the new master expected military precision.

“M’lady’s maid will probably frighten them more than you or I do, though,” Bragg added.

Gerard grinned. “Mrs. Dennis is more formidable than half the English Army.”

Bragg shuddered. “Right you are, Cap’n. Already she’s scolded me about the house, the bath for her ladyship, and then her own accommodations. How was I to know the lady’s maid would want the ironing in her room?”

“Give her whatever she wants, at