Chapter Five

“ P lease come riding with us. It is so much more fun.”

Susanne left hanging without speaking the implied words “than when I’m with my mother.”

“Governesses don’t ride,” Alice informed her. “Not for pleasure anyway, only to get from one place to the other, and usually in a stuffy coach-for-hire or by second-class train carriage.”

She ought to know. It was how she had fled her former life in an overly cramped train, clutching her ticket, only grateful she hadn’t been condemned to a rooftop seat of a mail coach, exposed to the elements.

“Then you cannot ride a horse,” Susanne said, sounding dejected, not to mention a little disappointed.

Alice’s whole existence was a lie, but she didn’t have to compound it with extra lies, so she replied honestly. “I can, in fact.”

Was it her vanity again wanting this young lady not to see her as a lesser female?

Susanne clapped her hands. “You are not merely a governess, I know that. We all know that.”

Alice swallowed a lump of fear.

“What do you mean?”

“Mother would not have let you be my chaperone if you weren’t also a widow. Besides, my sisters and I have had other governesses. None of them were like you.”

Alice decided not to ask the difference. She was doing the best she could to be subservient to Lady Beasley and her daughters while maintaining her dignity and giving them a decently broad education. She couldn’t abide by the fluffy-headed females with wool for brains.

Unfortunately, Susanne was not her pupil, and she, more than the younger ones, could use some learning.

“If I agree, will you do me the honor of attending some of my lessons?”

“I am too old for that,” Susanne scoffed. “I know all I need to know to run a household, or to direct a housekeeper and butler to run it. I must focus on finding a husband.”

“But what will you discuss with him if you do not know a little history? If you don’t learn a second language fluently, how can you travel together and not be a burden to him? What about going to a museum and speaking with him knowledgeably about art?”

Susanne shook her head. “Oh, Mrs. Malcolm. None of that is important to the gentlemen among whom I must find a husband. They can hire a translator when we travel and a guide for museums. He won’t be impressed if I am spouting information. In fact, that might dissuade some nice viscount or earl who wants nothing more than a dutiful, obedient wife.”

Alice wanted to shake her, but if Susanne truly had no interest in the outside world, then there wasn’t any way to force facts into her brain.

“Please come riding as my chaperone,” the young lady begged. “Just for the fun of it, without thinking of any of that knowledge stuff.”

Alice cracked a smile. That knowledge stuff . Maybe Susanne was correct. In her case, she was adorable, kind, and had a large dowry promised to any man who married her. Perhaps anything else was superfluous.

Thus, wearing one of her full skirts and missing her favorite green riding habit, Alice found herself seated sidesaddle, reins in hand, and hat upon head. Beside her rode Susanne, and on the other side, Lord Diamond, who sat his horse very finely.

They agreed upon the Royal Victoria Park. At least Susanne could be certain for whom it was named, although she didn’t know Victoria had officially opened the park when only a child of eleven.

After riding from Lord and Lady Beasley’s stable behind their home on The Paragon, the three riders eventually entered the park on Royal Avenue.

Lord Diamond spoke up as they passed the Royal Crescent.

“I am staying there,” he told them.

Of course he was! Where else would this perfect man reside but in one of thirty exclusive homes spanning five hundred feet of prime land overlooking the park?

Their three heads turned right to look up the slight incline across a stretch of green lawn where sheep had once grazed over the hidden ha-ha. Beyond it was a formal garden directly in front of the terraced townhouses. One hundred and fourteen Ionic columns greeted the eye, if Alice had counted correctly on one of her many walks.

“You are fortunate,” Susanne said.

“Indeed. My grandparents own it, although they are of a mind to sell.”

Alice would love to see inside one of the Palladian-style homes built by the same John Wood, the Younger, who had completed the celebrated Circus for his deceased father. However, she would never voice her desire. Next thing she knew, they would all be traipsing through a single gentleman’s abode, and that could hardly be what Lady Beasley intended for her daughter and her chaperone.

The wide path led them to the Victoria Obelisk, which Susanne was also able to identify as named for their queen. They continued on the large circuitous path.

Having always loved riding in Hyde Park or Richmond Park, Alice considered the outing to be an unexpected treat. Ignoring the curious glances of Lord Diamond — or trying to — Alice patted the horse’s neck and let herself become lost in the joy of being atop a gentle mount again.

“You ride well,” he called out past Susanne, who also looked over at her.

“His lordship is correct,” she said, sounding amused. “You appear like a lady and not at all like a governess.”

Alice tilted her chin, annoyed that Lord Diamond would think her unable to ride. In the next moment, she cursed her own pride. She ought to seem inexperienced and timid, but that was a hard part to play.

“My father kept a horse,” she said lamely. “I was merely lucky to get to learn... in my position, I mean.”

“Very lucky,” Susanne agreed.

Lord Diamond’s gaze narrowed. Not caring for his scrutiny, Alice dropped back to let the courting couple ride together.

She had been in Susanne’s situation many times before she’d made her fateful error. But she was there to make certain Susanne made no similar mistake. Therefore, Alice spent the rest of the ride watching the nearly hypnotizing view of horses’ rumps sway and their tails flash, trying not to look at Lord Diamond’s broad shoulders or his muscular thighs gripping his mount.

Seeing the two riders conversing, pointing out things, leaning over to talk, and laughing together, Alice tamped down the envy and bitterness she thought she’d outgrown and left behind.

That was before Lord Diamond kissed her and sparked to life a yearning for more.

When Susanne shrieked and the vignette suddenly changed, for a moment Alice did nothing, too shocked to react.

Something had spooked Susanne’s gelding, making it rear and take off at a gallop.

Urging her mare forward with a flick of her crop, suddenly Alice with Lord Diamond beside her were giving chase.

“What happened?” she called to him.

“I know not.”

It became plain at once that Susanne had dropped the reins and was hanging on to the horse’s neck as best she could.

“Can she jump?” he asked.

His question made her blood chill.

“I don’t know,” Alice said. But without reins, it was desperately dangerous.

In a short while, they’d crossed the oval field, approaching the cart path which circled up the other side and, after it, the hedgerow that divided one area of the park from another.

Since Susanne’s horse was racing full tilt toward it, they did, too. Luckily, the only carriages on the path were many yards away with no danger of collision.

“Veer off,” Lord Diamond yelled to her, but Alice was entirely capable of jumping the hedge.

In fact, as if he’d ordered Susanne’s gelding to do so, the horse swerved sideways a yard from the hedge, dumping its rider into the trimmed yews.

It was too late for Alice and Lord Diamond to do anything but keep going. Avoiding Susanne who luckily rolled over the top instead of sitting up, Alice jumped the hedgerow and cantered to a stop.

Lord Diamond came to a halt beside her and looked with astonishment.

“You are a very good rider,” he declared.

She could practically hear him silently add, “Too good for a governess.”

Without answer, she turned her horse around. Spying her charge on the ground, Alice dismounted unassisted and ran to Susanne.

“Are you unharmed?”

The young lady was already rising to her feet and brushing herself off, but her cheeks were pale from her ordeal.

“I believe I am.” Her tone was slightly shaky.

“Is she injured?” Lord Diamond asked, approaching, still atop his horse.

“I don’t believe so,” Alice answered him.

“Then I shall go in pursuit of her horse before it causes an accident or gets itself injured.”

After watching him leave, Alice turned her attention back to the young lady. Her eyes were large, and her lower lip was trembling.

“People fall off their horses all the time,” Alice reminded her, hoping to tame any fears immediately so the incident wouldn’t cause a lasting scar on Susanne’s tender psyche. “And then, they get directly back on.”

“I don’t want to get back on,” Susanne said. “Besides, I seem to have lost Rowan.”

“I didn’t know your horse’s name,” Alice said to keep her speaking and distract her from what had occurred, “but Lord Diamond has gone in pursuit.”

“Your horse is Polly,” Susanne added, and tears started to run down Susanne’s cheeks.

Alice gathered her in a hug. “You came to no harm,” she said, running her hands soothingly down the girl’s back. “Just a nasty fright is all, but when Lord Diamond returns with your horse, you shall mount up, and we’ll go home.”

“No!” It was the firmest Alice could recall Susanne ever speaking. “Not today. There was a bee. I believe it stung Rowan. I won’t get on him again.”

An open-air barouche drew up beside the hedge. A lady and a gentleman were in it.

“Lady Susanne,” greeted the woman. “We saw what happened. Are you injured?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said meekly.

“May we give you a ride back to your residence?”

Susanne leaned away from Alice and blinked at her. “May I please go home with Lord and Lady Eldridge?”

“Of course,” she said. “I shall bring Rowan back.”

“There’s a break in the hedge on the other side of the tree,” the gentleman said, then directed his driver to move the carriage forward.

Holding her arm, Alice led Susanne around the tree and through the yews and let the Eldridges take her away. She hoped that was the correct thing for a chaperone to do, but she had little choice. She couldn’t abandon the mare, nor had Lord and Lady Eldridge invited her along.

Even as the two carriage horses pulled away at a trot, Lord Diamond returned, leading Rowan.

“Lady Susanne has abandoned us,” he said.

Thus, Alice tried to ignore him. “Luckily, some of her acquaintances came by.”

“Hm,” he said, looking in the direction they went before glancing down at her. “She ought to have got back on her mount.”

Alice nodded. “That’s what I told her, but she adamantly refused.”

“You know a lot about horses and riding.”

Ignoring his questioning tone, she looked at Rowan’s head. Sure enough, he had a swelling on his velvety nose.

“Lady Susanne was correct. He was stung.”

Lord Diamond dismounted. “If you hold his head, I will see if a stinger remains.”

“Very well.”

And thus, Alice found herself in close proximity to the best smelling, most handsome man she’d ever met.

With a hand tucked around each of the lower cheek straps of Rowan’s bridle, she did her best to hold the horse’s head motionless.

Beside her, Lord Diamond looked at the small swollen bump.

“There is a stinger. Hold on.” Yanking off his gloves, he pressed a finger to either side of the pink area to tighten it, and with his other hand, he ran his thumb’s fingernail over it. “Got it.”

“Well done,” she said. In that instant, she was looking up, and he was looking down. Her insides fluttered. They were the perfect distance from each other for a kiss if he but bent a little lower.

His blue eyes locked with her own, and she caught her breath. Then his gaze dropped to her mouth.

Alice moved quickly, releasing the horse and stepping away.

“And now I am left as a horse’s chaperone,” she quipped to lighten the moment.

“Indeed.” His raspy tone weakened her knees.

When he said nothing more, merely taking her measure in a way that made her skin feel too tight, she asked, “Shall we head back to the Beasleys’ home?”

“It is your home, too, is it not?”

A quick laugh escaped her. She had never considered it her home. It was her place of employment, not somewhere she could relax — except when playing her violin.

“You find that amusing?” he asked.

“I am grateful for the place I have in the Beasleys’ household,” she said, but when he edged closer, alarm fluttered in her stomach.

“May I assist you onto your mount?” he offered.

Of course! What a ninny!

“Thank you,” she said.

In silence, he laced his gloved fingers, making a step for her use. Drawing up her skirt slightly, she placed the toe of her shoe in Lord Diamond’s hands, feeling almost indecent. Then with experience, she popped up and onto the saddle.

For a moment, his fingers skimmed her ankle, raising her skirt higher, causing her to shiver, before he guided her foot into the iron-and-leather slipper stirrup. Then he released her dress.

“Thank you,” she mumbled again, as if it was the only thing she could say.

When he looked up at her, he smiled slightly.

“How is it you are such a skilled horsewoman? Even the way you mount is done with assurance and elegance.”

Her cheeks warmed under his compliment. Should she lie to him? Alice could see no reason. And she had enough lies in her life.

“In truth, I grew up riding, mostly in the country. I haven’t ridden for a while, but one never forgets how to do it, no more than I would forget how to play music.”

“I see,” he said, finally turning away and reclaiming his horse, which was happily munching grass beside Susanne’s Rowan.

Adam didn’t know what had come over him. Obviously, he was not happy Lady Susanne had fallen, but the moment he and Mrs. Malcolm were alone again, the air crackled between them with undeniable attraction. He was acutely aware of her nearness, her floral scent, the exact gray-green color of her wide-set, intelligent eyes, the way a rosy blush feathered across her cheeks when he complimented her.

He wanted to spend more time with her. Alone. Now that he knew her to be widowed, his wish wasn’t so outrageous, apart from the fact that she was in the employ of Lady Susanne’s parents.

But to what end? Adam wished he could say his motives were pure. Instead, they were driven by sheer magnetic attraction.

With Mrs. Malcolm riding beside him while he led the third horse at a slow amble, he decided to ask her more about her life. Getting to know her better was a more honorable pursuit than wishing to kiss her again. Although his body adamantly urged him to do that, too.

Wincing slightly, he recalled his father’s lesson from an early age. One did not dally with the help. He knew better than to lead on or do anything to display a lack of respect for the station of useful, loyal staff, who in turn respected their employers. It was all civilized and designed to protect the vulnerable from the powerful.

Without doubt, the Earl Diamond was correct.

And yet... Mrs. Malcolm didn’t seem particularly vulnerable. Looking over at her, examining her profile, he thought her strong and brave and clear-headed.

“How long has it been since your husband passed away?”

She made a strangled gasp, which turned into a cough to cover it up.

“Do you think that an appropriate topic?” she asked without looking at him.

“Short of snooping around, how else will I discover the answer without asking? And I am not the type to pour a cup of gossip water. I would rather hear about you from your own lips.”

“Why do you want to hear about me at all?” she asked. “You know what I am. What more is there to say?”

“I am the heir to an earldom, but that is not all I am. I like fishing and trying to beat my eldest sister at target practice with the bow. I enjoy riding, which you know already, and now I know that about you, too. I don’t care for spiders,” he added carefully.

Her head whipped around, her eyes suddenly dancing. “Are you afraid of creepy-crawlies, my lord?”

“Not afraid , exactly. I simply don’t want them on me. Or near me. Or in my room when I am sleeping.”

“I see.” She smirked and looked away.

He enjoyed having amused her.

“Is there something you don’t like?” Adam asked, hoping for a little tit for tat.

When she hesitated, he thought she might tell him something important or nothing at all.

“I do not care for watercress. I don’t want it on me, near me, or in my room when I am sleeping.”

Adam couldn’t help himself — he started to laugh and couldn’t stop for a few moments.

“If you kill any spiders that approach, then I will eat any watercress we encounter.”

Her smile before she spoke made his heart stutter, then beat rapidly.

“Very well,” Mrs. Malcolm agreed. “That seems a fair deal.”

They had exited the park, and time was slipping away. Urgency made him bold because he might never have the chance again.

“Won’t you share your story?” he asked, wanting more than ever for her not to be such a mystery. “Just as I am more than an heir, you are more than a governess.”

Another long pause ensued until he was convinced she wouldn’t answer. At last, Mrs. Malcolm spoke without looking at him.

“I have been widowed for two years, which is half a year longer than I was married.”

He thought about her words. “How did your husband die? Was he a soldier?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Unless you married an older man,” Adam began, “then I assume your husband was my age. And I don’t intend to die anytime soon.”

She shrugged. “He may have been a little older than you. I may be a little older than you, for that matter.”

He hadn’t considered that, but he knew better than to ask her exact age. It didn’t bother him one way or the other. They were simply two people riding together.

They approached the Circus, the architectural masterpiece of John Wood, the Elder. Adam was glad to see it in her company, knowing she would be able to answer any questions he had. She was that sort of person.

As expected, when they entered the first of three semi-circular sections of the golden-stoned neighborhood, Mrs. Malcolm said, “Mr. Wood designed it after being inspired by a visit to Stonehenge. Sadly, he died shortly afterward, only three months into its building. It took his son the next fourteen years to complete.”

“A lot more columns than Stonehenge,” Adam said, looking along the crescent of homes in front of them and then around at the other two. Doric, Roman, and Corinthian columns stacked one above the other, moving up in complexity for each of every home’s three stories. To be sure, it was clever and pleasing to the eye.

“Palladian architecture at its finest,” he said.

When Mrs. Malcolm cocked her head in his direction, he confessed, “My mother grew up here, and she told me a bit about it.”

Adam thought the facades were exceedingly interesting, with friezes high above and all around.

“What are the symbols?” he asked, just to hear Mrs. Malcolm talk.

“I have walked all three sections many times,” she said. “There are emblems of the Mason and the Druids, and many items to do with science and art. Hundreds actually. I’ve seen a compass, flowers, boats, globes, birds. Even a paintbrush.”

“A serpent,” Adam pointed out over one door.

She sent him an arch look, and he wondered if she knew his given name. He shrugged.

“One point of interest,” she said, “if you look at the parapet atop each home, you’ll see the finials are all in the shape of an acorn.”

Adam craned his head and looked. “Indeed. And why?”

This time, Mrs. Malcolm shrugged. “Some say they make reference to Bath’s founder, King Bladud.”

“I confess to being like Lady Susanne with Lord Sydney and his gardens,” he said. “I have never heard of this king.”

Mrs. Malcolm smiled softly. “I do enjoy reading about the details. Very well, if you want to know, he was a mere leper swineherd with many pigs at the time he came here. This could be anytime between 500 and 900 BC.”

“That is a large span of ‘anytime’,” Adam pointed out.

“It is. As the story goes, he escaped being locked up for his leprosy, contracted in Greece of all places, came to Bath, and discovered the healing waters.”

Adam frowned. “That doesn’t sound correct. I’ve never heard these waters cured leprosy. Anyway, how did he become king, and of what?”

“You know good old Geoffrey of Monmouth's Historia Regum Britanniae ?” Mrs. Malcolm asked her question the way most women discussed a novel of one of the Bront? sisters, only recently revealed not to be gentlemen writers with the last name of Bell. “He first mentions Bladud as a King of the Britons, son of King Rud Hud Hudibras,” she continued, “but no one knows for certain if either were even real.”

“What about his pigs?” Adam asked, entranced by her.

“Bladud noticed his pigs had good skin after wallowing in the warm mud of Bath.”

“You are running rig on me now,” he said, delighted.

“I am not, I promise you. Bladud tried the warm mud and cured his leprosy. His father restored him as heir to the throne, and Bladud founded Bath in order to bring restorative powers to others.”

“What about the acorns?” He waved his hand at the many finials three stories above them.

“Oh, those.” She arched a flawlessly shaped eyebrow. “All pigs love acorns. Didn’t you know that?”

“Again, I am suddenly reduced to the position of pupil with you as my teacher.” He appreciated her knowledge and told her so. “You are impressive, Mrs. Malcolm.”

“Thank you.”

Having traversed the Circus, they were now heading along Bennett Street and had lapsed into silence. Adam realized, in all the talk of pigs and kings, she hadn’t answered his original question about how her husband died.

“Why don’t you wish to speak of Mr. Malcolm?”

“Mr. Malcolm,” she repeated. Then she said something more under her breath.

They turned onto The Paragon, which he thought a strange name for a street. It stretched for thirty-seven identical white front doors under thirty-seven triangular pediments, all three-story facades, also with matching wrought-iron railings out front.

On this street of sameness, Mrs. Malcolm’s next words, so extraordinarily frank, shocked him.

“Because my husband was a bastard through and through. I don’t mean that literally. He wasn’t born on the wrong side of the blanket, as they say, but his nature was as base as they come. Therefore, you must excuse me if I don’t wish to waste a moment of otherwise pleasant discourse on him.”

Adam swallowed. He hadn’t expected that! They circled around to the alley where a groom would take all three mounts, and Mrs. Malcolm would disappear indoors.

Wishing he could think of something to say that didn’t sound trite or pointless, Adam finally blurted out what he felt. “Then I am truly sorry you married him.”

“As am I,” she said.

“And why did you come to Bath?” He had to ask. For of all the places in Britain or the world, he wondered how she had ended up there, where he had found her.

She cocked her head, then sighed. “Because of Northanger Abbey .”

He didn’t know what to say since he hadn’t read it.

“A favorite of mine,” she added.

And that was all he was going to get out of her.

Soon, he had dismounted and raced the groom to help her down. She seemed to be in an ill humor, and Adam blamed himself. They could have simply continued discussing Bath or buildings, or even how long she’d been playing the violin, but he’d gone and pried into something painful.

How could he make amends?

Then he recalled what he’d seen on a notice at Sydney Gardens.

“May I escort you to the Hanoverian concert in Sydney Gardens tomorrow night? The musicians are performing at the Gothic Hall.”

She froze motionless as a statue.