Susan thought about that. “He was with a young lady from Bath. We were at the theater. We couldn’t speak too openly, but he seemed a little harried to me. When I asked him how he was making a living he said import-export with some friends. It sounded suspicious tome.”
John hung his head. “I feel bad for him. I really do. I wish he would contact me. I should like to reconcile. And you have no idea how to reachhim?”
“I’m sorry. I was not inclined to see himagain.”
“Of course,” John said nothing for a moment then he looked over to Susan and put his hand on her arm. “Thank you for letting me know. And thank you for not telling me this in front of AuntClarissa.”
“I thought it should be just betweenus.”
As John let go of her arm, Susan once again felt that charge of energy surge between them. She wondered if he felt it like she did. But he gave no indication that he did. Then he led the way into the sittingroom.
It was nearly eight o’clock when John stood and extended his hand to hisaunt.
“I know you don’t want a late night. Are you ready to leave?” he askedher.
She smiled, stood, and before accepting his arm turned toSusan.
“My dear, when you return to Ash would you do me the favor of calling on me one afternoon? I’ve something I’d like to discuss with you. Any time would be fine. I rarely goout.”
“I’d be happyto.”
Thank you for coming, Your Grace,” Jessica said, slightly bowing her head. “It’s been a great pleasure entertaining you and your lovelyaunt.”
The Duke nodded and escorted his auntaway.
* * *
The next morningwas the mud day. A long relaxing soak in a tub of mud was exactly what Susan wanted. She lay back in the warm ooze and closed her eyes and was having a restful nap before she knew it. And after the mud, there was a long soothing massage and a cool down in a private cubicle where she nearly fell asleepagain.
Susan was to meet Jessica in the lobby of the bathhouse. As she came out of the dressing room she saw Jessica chatting with a young man who tipped his hat as sheapproached.
“Good morning, Miss Wilton. Your cousin was just telling me about your dinner last evening with the Duke of Lennox. She tells me you are an intimate of hiscircle.”
“Susan this is the Viscount Silvester Damler from Northumberland. He is visiting Bath with his mother,” Jessicasaid.
The Viscount was thin, pale, and reedy. He looked like he might blow away in a stiffbreeze.
“Susan Wilton,” she said, bowing her head. “I’m hardly an intimate of the Duke’s. I teach grammar school in a small village inKent.”
This seemed to set the Viscount back for a moment and he gathered himself together by brushing the two sides of his thin moustache with a glovedfinger.
“I see. And it has been such a great pleasure meeting the both of you.” He clicked his heels, turned, and scooted out of the lobby like a rabbit being chased by adog.
“Oh, Susan, you scared him away with your tales of ruraleducation.”
“Really Jessica, I’m quite bored with all this nonsense. Can we please go back to London now? I’m afraid I’ll never be any good at all of these socialshenanigans.”
Jessica sighed and examined her cousin. “Yes, my dear, if you like, but I had such high hopes of you finding some shining cavalier to sweep you off yourfeet.”
“Oh, Jessica, I don’t believe I’ve seen a single cavalier—shining or otherwise during my entire trip. I think I’ll do much better with my handsome sailor fromAsh.”
Jessica tilted her head and said, “Ooo, a handsome sailor? You’ve not told me about him. You’ve been holding out on me. Now you must tell me absolutelyeverything.”
* * *
After returningto London from Bath, Susan stayed a few days longer. They attended a few museums during the day and went to a concert one evening and a presentation of ballet the next. They ate at several restaurants and had luncheon at home but the flavor had gone out of the adventure for Susan. She longed forhome.
One afternoon at tea, before Sir Allister Beaumont made his appearance, Susan put her hand on the tea table and said, “My dearest Cousin,Jessica…”
