Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager(7)

‘Don’t!’ hissed Mrs Wilby in an urgent whisper. ‘Pray, Susannah, do not mention the word business. It is not at all becoming.’

‘Quite right,’ agreed Kate, her lips twitching. ‘Susannah is a lady and should know nothing about such matters. She is here merely to look beautiful and to stir up such envy that the other ladies will all want to know where she buys her gowns.’

‘Kate!’

Susannah’s protest evoked nothing more than a shake of the head from her friend.

‘It is true, Susannah, and you know it. And I like the new way you have put up your hair,’ she added. ‘Quite in the classical style. What is it Mr Barnabus christened you? The golden goddess. Well tonight you could as well be called a Greek goddess.’

‘Thank you, but enough of your nonsense,’ said Susannah, trying to ignore the heat that burned her cheeks. ‘Let us go in, shall we?’

They moved on to the ballroom. Heads turned as Susannah entered, but she was used to that. As Bath’s richest heiress it was only to be expected that she would be pointed out wherever she went, and tonight it suited her purpose to be noticed.

The dancing was already in progress and the floor was a mass of bodies, swirling and skipping in time to the music. There were a good number of acquaintances present, including many of the gentlemen who had attended the card party the previous evening. As soon as she entered she was surrounded by hopeful suitors, all begging for the honour of a dance. Laughing, Kate carried Mrs Wilby off to the benches at the side of the room, leaving Susannah with her admirers.

The country dances were lively and in such a crowd it was necessary to concentrate to avoid jostling the other dancers. Nevertheless, Susannah enjoyed herself, and was happy to join a second and even a third set as the gentlemen lined up to partner her. She was hot and not a little dizzy by the time Mr Edmonds swung her through the final steps of a particularly lively country dance. He invited her to stand up again even as the last notes were fading.

‘You are very kind, sir, but I am going to sit down now,’ she said, half-gasping, half-laughing as she rose from her curtsy. ‘I really do not think I could dance another reel for quite a while, but thank you—oh!’

As she turned to leave the dance floor she found her way blocked by a wall of black. A second glance showed her it was not a wall, but a gentleman’s evening coat, and when she allowed her eyes to travel up from the broad chest they were dazzled by the snowy white linen of an intricately tied neckcloth.

‘I am very pleased to hear it, Miss Prentess, for I have brought you a glass of wine.’

She stepped back and lifted her gaze even further, to the smiling face of Lord Markham.

* * *

Jasper noted with satisfaction Susannah’s start of surprise. There was no denying she looked quite beautiful with her golden hair piled up on her head and a soft flush of exertion mantling her cheeks. And she used her looks to good effect, for most of the men he had seen at the Crescent last night were in the ballroom. He had watched the young pups—and some of the older ones—flock around her as she entered and he had no doubt that they had engaged her for every dance, which was why he had decided upon more subtle tactics.

‘Oh,’ she said again, the blush on her cheek deepening. He held out a wineglass and she took it. As she sipped gratefully at her wine he cast a swift, appraising glance over her.

‘Madras muslin,’ he said, displaying his knowledge of ladies’ fashion. ‘Is that in deference to your late uncle, the nabob?’

Immediately she was on the defensive.

‘No, but I am not ashamed of the source of my fortune, Lord Markham.’

‘I am glad to hear it.’

They stood in silence, watching the dancers, but Susannah was very much aware of the man beside her. His evening clothes were simple, a plain coat of black superfine with black knee-breeches of Florentine silk, but they were superbly cut and he wore them with an air of assurance. He was a man used to commanding attention, and she could not deny that he had hers. They were standing side by side, inches apart, and the skin on her arm tingled at his proximity. Her whole body was aware of him, of the power in that long, lean frame. No man had ever affected her like this before. Swallowing nervously, she sought for something to say.

‘I thought you had left Bath, my lord.’

‘Not yet. My cousin appears very happy with the attractions here and I decided to stay and—er—sample them for myself.’

A wary look appeared in her hazel eyes.

‘For one used to the delights of London, I fear you will find it sadly flat.’

‘Are you trying to discourage me, Miss Prentess?’

‘Not at all. But I believe our entertainment is nothing to London.’

‘And how long have you lived here?’

‘We moved into Bath about a year ago.’

‘Then you shall advise me on the entertainments available.’

‘I am sure your cousin can do that, sir.’

‘But I would value a different perspective.’

‘I would be only too happy to help you, sir, if I had the time, but I regret I am too busy at present.’

‘Busy? With what?’

She ignored his question.

‘But here is someone who may be able to help you.’ She looked past him. ‘You know Mrs Logan, I think?

‘We met last night.’ Jasper bowed. ‘Madam.’

‘Ah, yes, Viscount Markham.’ The widow held out her hand to him. ‘We played at euchre together. How could I forget?’

‘The viscount is planning to remain in Bath for a while, Kate.’

Jasper’s keen eye did not miss the look of appeal Susannah gave her friend.

‘Indeed? How delightful.’

‘Yes, and he is anxious to know what entertainments the city offers. Perhaps, Kate, you can assist the viscount? You must excuse me, but I see my next dance partner is looking for me...’

With a gracious smile she hastened away. Jasper watched her go, his eyes narrowing. Outmanoeuvred, by gad, and by a slip of a girl. He told himself he was amused by her antics, but to one more accustomed to being toadied to and courted wherever he went, Jasper could not deny a small element of annoyance.

‘Well, my lord?’ Mrs Logan’s voice cut through his thoughts and he turned back to her, his urbane smile firmly in place.

‘Yes, madam, pray tell me the delights I might expect to find in Bath...’

* * *

Susannah hurried away to join her partner for the next dance set. She found her encounters with the viscount strangely unsettling. He was undoubtedly handsome and charming, but her impression upon meeting him for the first time was that he was suspicious of her. He had as good as accused her of having designs upon his cousin, but she hoped she had reassured him on that point. He did not like her, she was sure of that. There was no warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. Why, then, was he singling her out?

‘Wrong way, Miss Prentess!’

Her partner’s urgent whisper brought Susannah back to the dance and she tried to concentrate upon her steps, but even as she twirled and passed and skipped she was aware that the viscount was watching her from the side of the room. Perhaps he was looking out for a rich wife. Another pass, another skip and she gave her hands to her partner to swing her around. She also gave the young gentleman her warmest smile. If Lord Markham thought he only had to parade his title before her and she would fall at his feet, then he was very much in error.

* * *

Susannah danced and laughed until her feet and her cheeks ached. Her partners had never known her so vivacious, nor so encouraging. She never once looked for the viscount, but when the ball ended she was disappointed to learn from Mrs Logan that he had left soon after speaking to her.

‘He was less interested in knowing about Bath than learning about you,’ Kate told her as they waited for their cloaks.

‘Oh?’ Susannah tried not to be intrigued and failed miserably. ‘What did he say?’

‘He asked about your parents.’ Kate’s cynical smile dawned. ‘If he is looking for a rich bride he could do worse.’

‘No, he could not.’ Susannah shivered. ‘He is wasting his time with me. I do not want a husband, and certainly not one who looks down his aristocratic nose at me.’

‘But you must admit he is devilishly handsome,’ murmured Kate.

Susannah thought of those hard eyes boring into her. Something inside fluttered again when she thought of Viscount Markham, but she would not admit it to be attraction.

‘Devilish, yes, I’ll agree to that.’

‘Well, for my part I like him,’ declared Mrs Wilby, coming up. She cast an anxious look at her niece. ‘That is, he has never been anything but charming to me.’

‘Hah!’ Susannah found two pairs of eyes upon her. Her aunt’s held merely a question at her vehement exclamation, but Kate Logan’s glance was brimful of merriment and a knowing look that brought an angry flush to Susannah’s cheek. She said haughtily, ‘Charm is the viscount’s second nature, but it will not work with me!’