Chapter One

Marianne

January 1817

“N elson! Nelson, stop that at once, do you hear? Naughty boy!” Lady Barrington hurried across the grass towards her pet, wagging her finger. “No! Leave his shoes alone. You must not behave in this way.”

Marianne ran after her aunt, watching in dismay as the pug set about destroying the fine evening shoes of the handsome young gentleman standing on the Crescent Lawn. The gentleman offered little resistance, merely laughing as he attempted to pat the dog.

“There, there! You and I should be friends, little one. ’Tis a dear wish of mine that you should stop attacking me whenever we meet. What is bothering you?”

Perchance Nelson was confused as to why the unknown gentleman was wearing full evening dress– for ’twas early morning and the sun was still struggling to cast its beams through the dense clouds and announce that the day was breaking. Perhaps the pug also wondered why the young man was not wearing more substantial outer clothing to protect against the chill wind– and why his hair was damp.

“Ah, Lady Barrington,” the gentleman said. “How charming to see you. I do hope you have had a pleasant Christmas. ”

Then he directed his gaze at Marianne and she felt her insides turn to liquid. That look! His dark tumbled hair and easy smile– a face made for pleasure and amusement. But something about his piercing blue eyes spoke of hidden depths, possibly of a sadness or dissatisfaction, but with what, ’twas not possible to say. He seemed an intriguing character– and one Marianne would do well to avoid.

“Indeed, I have had a splendid Christmas,” Lady Barrington said to the gentleman, “and the highlight was the arrival of my niece a few days ago. ’Tis a blessing to have a young person in the house now all my dear daughters are married and living far away. Mr. Templeton, may I present Mrs. Marianne Pembroke? Marianne, this is Mr. Edmund Templeton. He is a near neighbor of mine– and I believe you met his parents last night at my twelfth night party.”

Edmund bowed to Marianne, then reached for her gloved hand and raised it to his lips with practiced ease.

“I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Pembroke.”

Marianne’s heart danced– she could do nothing to prevent it– and she felt afraid.

“But Mr. Templeton, I have a bone to pick with you.” Lady Barrington shook her head. “For you did not accept my invitation to yesterday’s party.”

“A thousand apologies, Lady B, but I was already engaged for the evening elsewhere. Be assured, however, that turning down your invitation caused me great pain. I adore visiting your beautiful home at Number 4 and felt utterly heartbroken that I had to miss your bountiful hospitality last night.”

Lady Barrington smiled almost girlishly at these compliments. Heavens! Was no one immune to Mr. Templeton’s charm? No one, it seemed, save Nelson.

“And moreover,” Edmund continued, “I know how forward I have been in addressing you as Lady B instead of Lady Barrington. I hope you will forgive me? ”

Edmund fixed Lady Barrington with such a winsome smile that ’twas all Marianne could do to keep from bursting out laughing. Her aunt was a formidable woman– everyone agreed on this– but she was putty in Edmund’s hands, enjoying every moment of his flirtatious nonsense.

“I should give you a good trimming for choosing to celebrate twelfth night elsewhere,” Lady Barrington said, “for the party would have been even more enjoyable if you had attended. However, you make your apologies so prettily that I find I cannot be cross. And of course you may address me as Lady B– as often as you wish.”

“Thank the Lord,” Edmund said. “You cannot know how relieved I am to have caused no offense.”

His eyes– possibly looking a little tired from lack of sleep– then turned to Marianne. “Welcome to Bath, Mrs. Pembroke. Is this your first visit?”

“’Tis not my first, but I have not been here for some time.”

I spent most of my last visit crying– ’twas a very distressing period that I wish most fervently to forget.

Nelson squared his shoulders and gave Edmund a hard stare– then he growled and lunged at his shoes again.

Lady Barrington looked horrified as the soft leather received further extensive scratching.

“Mr. Templeton! How can I apologize enough? This is very much out of character for Nelson, for he is usually such a friendly and sociable dog.”

Again, the blood-curdling growl issued forth from deep within the pug’s throat– and this time, it sounded like a threat.

Edmund smiled. “Pray do not concern yourself, Lady B. My shoes have survived. Nelson is quite right to be wary of me; I am sure that he only wishes to protect you and Mrs. Pembroke.”

“We have no need to be protected from a fine young gentleman such as yourself, Mr. Templeton. I would like to invite you to tea tomorrow so that you can make friends with Nelson. He is always more relaxed in his own drawing room, sitting on his cushion by the fireside.” Lady Barrington put her head to one side and gave Edmund a smile that was almost coquettish. “Might we prevail on you to accept? Will you be able to squeeze us into your busy social life?”

“I would be absolutely delighted and can scarce wait for the hours to pass till ’tis time to attend.” Edmund gave a small bow. “But now I am afraid I must leave you all, for my parents are expecting me at breakfast. Farewell– until tomorrow.”

“I do believe Mr. Templeton will be heading straight for his bedchamber to catch up with his sleep after he has breakfasted,” Lady Barrington remarked as Edmund strode away. “I wonder how many parties he attended last night; he certainly knows how to enjoy himself. These young men! How they find the stamina I will never know.”

Marianne studied Edmund’s retreating figure. Such confidence! A fleeting frown passed over her features. Was Mr. Edmund Templeton perchance a little too pleased with himself? And did his teasing way of conversation mask a heart of flint? But he had such a handsome countenance, ’twas hard to think ill of him.

Beware, Marianne! Remember your resolve.

Nelson gave a short series of joyful, wheezy yaps and then turned his face to the chill January wind sweeping across from the river and scampered into the distance.

“Marianne, my dear,” Lady Barrington said. “Would you mind chasing after him? I find I cannot keep up with the dog as I used to.”

“Leave it to me, Aunt. I am sure I can catch him.”

Heavens! I have only been here a short time, but I have already lost count of the number of occasions on which I have had to pursue this little rascal. I hope he does not leap from the ha-ha as he attempted yesterday, for ’tis quite a sharp drop.

Marianne felt a little weary too, as the party the night before had not finished until the small hours– but in Lady Barrington’s household, one was expected to rise at the same time every morning– early– no matter what time one had reached one’s bed the night before. Marianne did not mind, though, for the walk was refreshing and would make the coffee and freshly baked rolls waiting for them at Number 4 taste all the sweeter.

Eventually, she caught up with Nelson and scooped him up into her arms. He was quite out of breath, but there was no sign of his former bad temper.

“What is it you do not like about Mr. Templeton, I wonder?” Marianne whispered into his ear.

She carried the dog back to his mistress.

“Thank you, my dear.” Lady Barrington held out her arms. “Come to me, little one.”

Nelson allowed himself to be deposited in Lady Barrington’s arms, and she wrapped him in her fur stole.

“I do hope you are enjoying Bath, Marianne,” Lady Barrington said as they began walking back to her home. “Tell me honestly, what did you think of last night?”

“’Twas incredible,” Marianne enthused. “I have not been to such a large gathering for a long time.”

“I thought that would be the case, for your parents do not have a very active social life. And when your mother and I were growing up, I was always the one wild for company– she was quite shy. I think you take after her, my dear, do you not?”

“Perhaps; I must admit to feeling a little nervous occasionally when I meet new people.”

“We will have to cure you of that– after all, you are here for a purpose.”

Oh, Lord! Not this again. Marianne had endured several talks from her aunt already on the subject of matrimony.

“Yes,” Lady Barrington continued, “you have been languishing long enough in Clifton with your parents, wasting the best years of your life. Now you are here in the heart of Bath, you have the opportunity to mix with the cream of society. Tell me truthfully– did any of the young men you met last night catch your eye? Is there anyone you would wish to see again?”

This was a forthright way to speak, indeed. Perchance Marianne might answer in an equally direct way? Should she say that she did not give any of the single men last night a second glance in case they felt encouraged to woo her? She could not bear to– for if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she fully intended never to marry again after her previous marriage had been cut short so tragically but a year and a half ago.

Marianne opened her mouth to speak. Then closed her lips again, for what was the point? Her aunt was a determined individual and had already said many times that this was to be the year of Marianne’s second marriage.

“What about Mr. Templeton?” Lady Barrington said. “He has excellent prospects, for he will inherit his father’s title and fortune one day– though, God willing, that will not be for many years. But if Mr. Templeton is not to your taste, no matter, for in truth, he does not seem in a hurry to settle down.”

And I have no wish to remarry. Even if I did, I suspect Mr. Templeton and I would not suit, for I find it hard to think what we might have in common– I am not so green, but I know that his seeming interest this morning was merely the typical flirtatious behavior of a man about town. Doubtless he has scores of ladies lined up who adore him and long for his attentions. They are welcome to him!

“There are many other eligible gentlemen for you to meet in Bath.” Lady Barrington tickled Nelson’s ears. “And now the business of Christmas is over, we can start planning which balls you will attend. I believe you are very fond of music, too?”

“Oh yes. I would adore to go to some concerts. And the theatre, if that is a possibility. I have heard how splendid the Theatre Royal is.”

“Concerts, theatre, balls, dinners, and gatherings– ’twill all be so exciting! And, hopefully, fruitful. I think I might ask a few more people for tea tomorrow. Perhaps Mr. Templeton’s sister, Mrs. Fitzgerald, might be free.”

“Ah, I met her in passing yesterday,” Marianne said. “She was going into Number 3 when I was coming out of your house, and we exchanged a few words. I liked her very much.”

“She has a charming husband– Mr. George Fitzgerald. They married last summer, and I should now call him Doctor Fitzgerald, for he has recently qualified as a medical man. ’Tis so confusing, for his father is also Doctor Fitzgerald and is a very much respected personage in the city; Doctor Fitzgerald senior is my physician and has also attended a few times to treat Nelson.”

“And he did not mind?”

“Mind? Why should he? What do you mean?”

“Oh, I simply meant because Nelson is a dog.” Marianne blushed and hoped she had not caused offense.

“Lord bless you, no! Doctor Fitzgerald senior is a notable animal lover– as is his son. Besides, Doctor Fitzgerald knows how much I dote on Nelson and, as my physician, is always keen to keep Nelson in good health– for if Nelson is ill, then I rapidly become unwell too, such is my affection for my pet.”

Marianne reflected that ’twas good to hear of Lady Barrington’s more sensitive side; generally speaking, she was considered rather a dominant character with a mission to convert all to her way of thinking. Marianne would have to be strong– and courageous– if she was to stick to her plan of remaining unwed.

For I will never marry a second time; I cannot face the agony of loss again.

*

Edmund

Lady Templeton regarded her son quizzically. “Sit down, my dear. How delightful to see you at breakfast; this is indeed a rare occurrence.”

“Good morning, Mama.” Edmund looked down at his evening clothes. “Perhaps I should go upstairs to change first? I seem to have dressed in the wrong attire.”

“You need not try to pretend you have not been out all night. I know your habits.”

Edmund gave a snort of laughter and sat down at the table. A footman moved to fill his coffee cup.

“Thank you,” Edmund said. “Yes, fill it right up if you would be so kind. Ah! ’Tis nice and strong.”

Edmund spread his toast liberally with butter and quince jelly, and wolfed it down appreciatively. Then he accepted a second cup of coffee and flopped backwards in his chair.

“Are you feeling better, my dear?” Lady Templeton smiled. “I remember how proud your father was at your age that he could forgo a night’s sleep to attend social engagements and carry on relatively normally the next day.”

Edmund grinned and helped himself to a large piece of honey cake. “And pray, where is Papa?”

“Your papa was reluctant to rise early this morning. We did not arrive home from Number 4 till the new day was well underway.”

“Ah yes. I have just encountered Lady B on the Crescent Lawn and was thoroughly reprimanded for not attending her twelfth night gathering.”

“Perhaps you should have gone,” Lady Templeton said. “There were many interesting guests, and we all had such fun with no end of music and cards– then we played charades.”

“I will wager that was amusing! Lady B has just introduced me to her niece– and has asked me to take tea with them tomorrow.”

Ah, Mrs. Pembroke with her Titian locks and scintillating green eyes. There is something very special about the lady– Mr. Pembroke is a lucky man. I expect I will meet him when I go to Lady B’s for tea tomorrow.

“Mrs. Pembroke is very good company,” Lady Templeton said. “ We chatted yesterday for quite some time about novels and the theatre. Between you and me, I think she is in Bath to find a husband.”

“She is a widow?”

Now that is interesting! There is no Mr. Pembroke on the scene to object to a flirtation.

“Yes. She was married but a short time, a matter of five months, I believe. Captain Pembroke was killed at Waterloo, along with far too many others.” A tear rolled down Lady Templeton’s cheek. “Oh, I can scarce bear to think of those dreadful times.”

“Pray, do not distress yourself, Mama.” Edmund put his hand across the table and gently stroked his mother’s fingers as she tried to compose herself. “All turned out for the best for Henry in the end, did it not? He is safe with us in Bath again, married to his dear Kitty, and proud father to little Isabella.”

Edmund’s younger brother, Henry, had managed to survive Waterloo under the most extraordinary circumstances in 1815 and had then had a hair-raising adventure returning to England, pursued by his mortal enemy, Lord Steyne. William Carter, Henry’s manservant– and the illegitimate half-brother of Lady Templeton– had saved Henry’s life on more than one occasion. ’Twas most fortunate that Carter had worked for the government as a spy for many years and so possessed special skills of survival.

“We owe dear Carter such a great debt of gratitude,” Lady Templeton whispered. “And though he does not wish us to broadcast the fact to the world, never forget that he is your beloved uncle.”

“Indeed, Mama, we all hold Carter in the highest regard, and he will always take his rightful position when we are en famille . That will never change, whatever the circumstances. But how I long with all my heart for him to be publicly accepted as your brother by the ton .”

“As do I, but timing is critical in these matters, and Carter himself is reluctant to be the cause of any stain upon the family.”

“The ton are but hypocrites! And Carter is worth more than the lot of them. ”

“You are a dear son, Edmund, and I appreciate your loyalty. Now, have another slice of cake and I will tell you more about Mrs. Pembroke. Her aunt is very keen to introduce her to the cream of Bath society and plans she will stay for a good few months, possibly longer.”

“Does the length of her visit depend on whether or not she finds a husband in the city?”

“There is no need to be facetious, Edmund; matrimony is a serious business, and a lady must plan for her future.”

Unmarried– and not looking for flirtation, but a husband. I must be wary! How sick I am of being pursued by young women– aided and abetted by their relatives– all because they want the Templeton title and fortune. So many see me as a gateway to a new life, not as a potential future spouse they can respect; ’tis hard for me to judge who might be genuine.

“I found Mrs. Pembroke to be a woman of good sense and refinement,” Lady Templeton said, “perhaps a little shy, but that is no bad thing. And although her parents have somewhat fallen upon hard times, she is Lady Barrington’s niece and thus part of a well-connected family. ’Twould not be beneath you to marry her. And she is exceedingly pretty– and still quite young– three and twenty, I believe.”

“Mama!” Edmund put his napkin down on the table. “I do wish you would not talk about matrimony as if it were some sort of cold transaction where a man may select a partner according to a woman’s breeding, character, and looks. Does the woman herself have no say?”

“Of course she does! But Edmund, you know where your duty lies.”

“Yes, yes, I know that one day I must choose a bride who will be worthy to become the next Lady Templeton. When that day comes, I will seek advice from you and Papa and then ask for your blessing on our union– but that time is far distant. There is no need to discuss the subject as endlessly as you do. I resent being put under pressure– for I am not yet ready for matrimony.”

Lady Templeton took a sip of coffee and then placed the cup down very firmly on the saucer. “You have been saying this for many moons, and you are now five and twenty. ’Tis high time you settled down. Mrs. Pembroke is a very suitable candidate and would be an honorable addition to our family– but if she does not appeal, then you must look around the ladies of Bath in earnest, or perhaps we should take a trip to London, for your father and I think the time is right... and we both think you should begin to take more interest in learning to manage the Templeton estate, for ’tis wrong to leave all the burden with your papa.”

Edmund closed his eyes and let his mother’s words drift across him, then his head slumped forwards.

Lady Templeton laughed. “Are you really falling asleep?”

“No, of course not.” Edmund gave an exaggerated shake. “I do beg your pardon, Mama. I merely nodded off for a minute due to the immensely tedious nature of the conversation. But on second thought, perchance I should retire to my room, for I feel uncommonly tired.”

Just then the parlor door opened and Lord Templeton appeared.

“Good Lord!” Edmund said. “Papa! You look even more exhausted than I do.”

“How very pleasant to see you, too, Edmund,” Lord Templeton said. “Did you have an enjoyable evening? We missed you at Lady Barrington’s– you would have–”

“Yes, yes,” Edmund cut in. “Mama has already given me the lecture about missing the party.”

“But I have a special reason for saying this,” Lord Templeton said, “for there was the most amiable young lady there, a Mrs. Pembroke. Your sister Selina was very taken with her, and I believe they have already become firm friends. I do hope you will make her acquaintance soon, for your mother and I think you would suit.”

Edmund chuckled. “Too late again, for Mama has already broken the news that the pair of you have decided to marry me off to Mrs. Pembroke. And as a matter of fact, I have already made her acquaintance outside on the lawn this morning when the infernal Nelson savaged my shoes for some ungodly reason.”

“Nelson has never been that fond of you, Edmund,” Lady Templeton observed, handing her husband a slice of pound cake.

“’Tis not my fault the pooch has no taste,” Edmund said.

He then proceeded to give a hugely embellished account of how Nelson had attacked his evening shoes with great vigor and determination– and an awful lot of noisy wheezing and snarling which Edmund took pleasure in mimicking.

“Please, desist!” Lady Templeton said. “’Tis far too comical for this hour of the morning; we are trying to have our breakfast in peace.”

But Edmund was in full flow, his tiredness forgotten, and he would not pause his farcical tale of woe.

“See here?” Edmund lifted up a foot to show the damaged leather. “What on earth is wrong with the idiotic pug that means he turns into a rabid beast bent on destruction when faced with a pair of handsome evening pumps?”

Lord Templeton laughed heartily, then the laugh turned into a cough. Things went from bad to worse as he started clutching alarmingly at his chest and went puce in the face.

“Water! Some water, for pity’s sake,” he gasped.

Edmund leapt to his feet and held a glass to his father’s lips.

“Quick!” Lady Templeton began to wring her hands. “We must send a servant for a doctor!”

“’Twould be better if I ran to Number 3,” Edmund said, “to see if George is at home.”

“Yes, of course,” Lady Templeton said. “Speed is of the essence. I do believe your papa is suffering with his heart. Here, my dear, let me help you lie down on the carpet– perhaps on your side?”

Edmund raced towards the door of the parlor, knocking over a small mahogany box on the desk in his haste.

“Edmund!” Lady Templeton shrieked, “Pray do not stop to pick up the alphabet letters, for pity’s sake! ”

“Sorry, Mama!” Edmund fled from the house, then around to Number 3, urgently beating on the door.

“George! George! Are you there? Let me in, man, for God’s sake!”

When the footman opened the door, Edmund ran into the parlor and found his sister, Selina, and her husband, George, at breakfast.

“Selina, ’tis Papa!” Edmund said. “Come quickly, George– there’s not a moment to lose. Your medical skills are required.”

George stood up immediately. “I have my bag ready by the door. Describe your father’s symptoms as we run and try not to panic; these things often seem worse than they are.”

George and Edmund hared along the pavement with Selina not far behind, and very soon George was examining Lord Templeton. He turned his father-in-law onto his back, then loosened his cravat and shirt, and with sincere apologies for the intrusion, placed his ear on Lord Templeton’s chest in order that he might listen to his heart.

“What is going on?” Lady Templeton’s eyes filled with tears. “Is this it? Is he dying?”

Selina held a finger to her lips. “Shush, Mama! George must have total silence to be able to make a diagnosis.”

The seconds ticked past and then George, his brows knitted together in concentration, proceeded to take his father-in-law’s pulse. Eventually he nodded, and looked round the room with a cheerful smile before turning back to his patient.

“I am glad to say ’twas a false alarm, Lord Templeton, and you are free to stand up. If you would care to take my arm and Edmund’s too, ah– gently does it. And feel free to take a few slow sips of water. I am pleased to report that your heart is strong and steady, as is your pulse. ’Twould be advisable to let my father know of this episode as he is your physician, but my diagnosis is that the act of eating a piece of dry cake and laughing at the same time resulted in digestive discomfort, which in turn caused understandable and natural alarm.”

Lady Templeton shed more tears, this time of gratitude as she hugged her husband.

“What a relief!” she cried. “You have no idea, my dear George, how grateful I am to have my son-in-law the doctor living so close by.”

“Yes, thank you very much, George.” Lord Templeton wiped his brow. “I feel completely restored– albeit rather foolish to have created such a stir. ’Twas all because Edmund made me laugh by talking about Lady Barrington’s rascally pooch in such a humorous way.”

“I will remember, Papa, not to attempt humor when a family member is eating pound cake in the future.”

“You will do more than that, Edmund,” Lord Templeton said, “for although this was a false alarm, nevertheless it has got me thinking. No one lives forever, and before I die, my greatest wish is to see all my children happily married and with their own families.”

He clasped Lady Templeton’s hand. “We have been blessed in recent years, for not only do we have our dearest Henry married to Kitty next door at Number 2, but we have you, Selina, married to George, and living at Number 3.”

Lord Templeton allowed his gaze to fix upon his firstborn. “And as for you, Edmund, well, you must see where my mind is travelling with this.”

“Yes, yes I know. You would like to see me settled, preferably with an heir to inherit the Templeton name and fortune– possibly even residing at Number 4, although I am at a loss to understand how that might be achieved, for you do not own that house.”

“An heir and a spare,” Lady Templeton murmured. “That is the safest.”

“Two spares, at least.” Selina’s eyes danced with mirth. “You need to hurry up, Edmund.”

“I can recommend marriage,” George said as he gave Selina a particularly smoldering look.

“But really,” Edmund protested, “I cannot be expected to marry purely because my family think ’tis the right time– surely? Besides, I have not found the right lady yet.”

Edmund’s voice trailed off as he looked around the room. His parents were still holding hands after their shock, and George and Selina were gazing at each other in the sort of sentimental way people do when they have been married for scarcely seven months.

Unbidden, a vision of a flame-haired lady flooded into Edmund’s mind.

Mrs. Pembroke! I must be on my guard, for I have no inclination to marry anyone for a good few years yet– despite my family’s sincere wishes and best encouragement. And I certainly have no desire to marry someone who has come to Bath with the express wish of hoping to snare herself a rich husband, however pretty she might be.

*

Marianne

“I am sure there is something going on at Number 1,” Lady Barrington said as she stood at the window of her parlor.

Marianne took another sip of her breakfast coffee. What could her aunt be looking at now? In the past few days, Lady Barrington had spent an inordinate amount of time at various windows in the house, observing the life outside and passing judgement. She had even been known to open the sashes, despite the cold, in order to lean out with an ear trumpet to hear better what passersby were discussing.

“Well, my dear,” Lady Barrington said as she sat down at the breakfast table again, “I have just seen Mr. Edmund Templeton running along the pavement and then beating at his sister’s front door.”

“Perhaps he is going on a visit?” Marianne said.

“’Tis a little early for a visit, do you not think? No, I believe it presages something more urgent. An emergency?”

“Possibly. ”

’Tis is none of our business– but I do wonder what could be happening.

Lady Barrington resumed her position by the window, a plate with two pastries in her hand.

“Ah ha! He is running back to Number 1 now– and he has Mr. Fitzgerald, I mean young Doctor Fitzgerald with him, as well as his sister Selina. Come, my dear.” Lady Barrington beckoned to her niece. “Pray join me.”

Marianne needed no further invitation– after all, ’twas a little intriguing, and what harm could glancing out of a window do? Hastening over, she endeavored to stand half-hidden next to the shutter, rather than openly gawping like her aunt.

“Do you think I should go over there?” Lady Barrington said in an eager tone.

“Perhaps not, for it could be a family matter.”

“But Doctor Fitzgerald was carrying his medical bag, and that makes it a public matter, surely, for any member of the public could see him if they happened to be in the street.”

Marianne coughed. “I merely meant that if a member of the Templeton family or staff were ill, would that not make it more of a private concern?”

Lady Barrington frowned, the word “private” not seeming to register.

Nelson wheezed noisily as he sprang across the room to join the two ladies; he then whined and tugged at the hem of Lady Barrington’s skirt until she put down her pastries and picked him up.

“There you are, my little darling. You want to see what is going on, too.”

She held the pug’s face close to the window pane.

Marianne stifled a giggle. Then she felt a twinge of guilt. ’Twas no laughing matter if something was genuinely wrong.

“I must know what is happening,” Lady Barrington said. “Therefore, I will summon Jane. ”

“Your maid?”

“Yes. ’Tis a short step for her through the back garden and thence round to the servants’ quarters of Number 1. Did you know her sister, Martha, works there– and will be able to reveal exactly what has happened?”

Marianne felt a little shocked to hear this and turned away to hide her face.

“My motives are of the highest,” Lady Barrington continued. “I never indulge in gossip or interfere with other people’s business. However, ’twould be churlish to look a gift horse in the mouth, and I cannot tell you how much better informed I have been since Jane came to work for me a few months ago. Her arrival has enriched my life considerably.”

I cannot believe that my aunt thinks ’tis right to use a servant girl as a source of information about her neighbors– and what about the possibility that information passes the other way, too?

Yet, what do I know? This is not the way my parents behave with their maid in Clifton, but this is Bath, and Lady Barrington is a highly regarded member of the ton . Perchance the situation is quite normal in high society?

There was a timid knock, and Jane appeared.

“There you are!” Lady Barrington quickly explained how imperative it was that Jane found out from her sister if there was any special news at the Templetons that morning.

“Do you wish me to go round to see Martha now?” Jane said.

“Yes. But first, ask Cook to load up a plate with some of the delicacies left from last night, and take the food with you to Number 1’s kitchen as an offering from me. And on your way round, my dear, you may consume one of the sweetmeats from the plate. Do we understand each other?”

Jane grinned, nodded– and scurried away.

“The next item on my list to achieve today, Marianne, is to sort out a problem that has worried me for some time– and that problem, why, it concerns you. ”

“I am so sorry.” Marianne felt a familiar, panicky feeling. “Have I done something wrong?”

Was she to be sent back to her parents after only a few days in Bath? How could she have caused offense?

“Heavens above, do not look so worried, child; I only wish to sort out your wardrobe.”

Marianne looked down at her clothes in dismay.

“Yes, my dear, well might you look worried; in the past few days I have seen you wear far too many grays, blacks and drab colors; ’tis time for you to emerge from mourning. A considerable time has passed since your dear husband departed this life, and you are young, pretty, and very much in need of a new husband.”

Lady Barrington’s voice softened a little. “I have written to your parents about this, and they are in complete agreement– so what say you? Shall we walk to Milsom Street this morning to visit my dressmaker? I have taken the liberty of making a tentative appointment; we can look at fabrics and have measurements taken. No one wants to rush you, dearest Marianne– but I think ’tis time.”

Is it? How can one decide when to stop mourning one’s husband? Sometimes, in my darkest moments, I fear even a whole lifetime of sorrow would not be enough of a tribute for my brave Richard.

“I have no doubt you will find Madame Dubonnet an agreeable and sympathetic woman. She is also stylish, knowledgeable, and works very speedily; she and her team will help you present your finest self. ’Twill be like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. And then you will be able to shine brightly in society like a beauteous and majestic tropical bird, although in the west of England rather than further towards the equator.”

Am I to be both a butterfly and a bird at the same time? What an imagination my dear aunt has! And do birds not feast on butterflies on occasions?

“This is vastly generous,” Marianne said, “but there is no need for you to spend your money on me, for I have frocks aplenty and they are not all drab– I wore my lavender gown last night. ”

Lady Barrington sniffed. “Lavender is not your best color. You should wear bright blues and greens, and perhaps the warmth of gold– and russet. Then the gentlemen will notice you.”

But I have no wish to attract a husband nor to look like wildlife; I am quite happy being a widow who intends to remain unmarried to the end of her life. However, would it not be rude of me to continue to refuse my aunt? She means well and has a kind and generous soul.

Marianne twisted her fingers together. What should she do?

“I will brook no opposition,” Lady Barrington said, “and will see you in the hall in ten minutes time, ready to visit the dressmaker.”

Lady Barrington’s edict made it easy for Marianne to realize where her duty lay– and that resistance would be futile.

So ’tis decided– I am to emerge from my widow’s weeds. Ah well, perhaps ’tis time– for I have become a little weary of wearing muted shades for so long. My dear Richard always said how much he admired me in vibrant colors. But I am not prepared to go along with the husband-hunting part of my aunt’s scheme.

Lady Barrington swept from the room. “Come along now,” she called back to Marianne. “No dawdling! You need to come upstairs my dear; you have nine minutes left to get ready.”

Did not my aunt say but a few minutes ago that no one wished to rush me? And now she is determined we should be out of the house in double quick time. How quickly her moods change! Truly, she has a whim of iron.

Marianne followed her aunt up the stairs and made her way to her bedchamber. She stared in the mirror, noticing how the dull gray of her frock did nothing for her complexion– if anything, it exaggerated the shadows under her eyes.

Lord! Mr. Templeton must have thought me very lackluster this morning when we met. And my hair! It resembles a bird’s nest after being buffeted by the cold January wind.

Marianne wound a shiny red curl around a finger, coaxing it into a tighter spiral before releasing it, then moved on to the next, working her way around to frame her face until satisfied with the effect. She bit her lips gently and pinched her cheeks to create a rosy look, then wrinkled her nose, annoyed to see a tiny dusting of freckles even in the middle of winter.

Richard always admired my warm coloring, but not all men look favorably upon redheads, especially redheads with freckles. I wonder what looks the tall, dark, and elegant Mr. Templeton prefers?

Marianne took a step back from the mirror and gasped. What in God’s name was she thinking? She had no interest in what Mr. Templeton, or any other man, thought of her looks. That part of life was closed to her– forever.

Lady Barrington’s voice could be heard from the corridor. “Marianne! Two minutes left! I am about to descend the staircase.”

“I am coming!” Marianne changed her shoes, pulled her black pelisse from her closet and snatched her reticule, feeling inside quickly to see if all was there. She smiled as her fingers met the reassuring smoothness of the tiny leather pouch she carried with her constantly– and would until the day she died.

Downstairs in the hall, Lady Barrington was talking to her maid.

“Well done, Jane,” Lady Barrington said. “You are a quick worker, and I thank you for your diligence. Now go and see Cook and tell her I give express permission for you to have another sweetmeat from last night. I am very grateful, my dear.”

Jane hurried towards the back staircase, and Lady Barrington and Marianne set off with Nelson to go into the city.

“Try not to stare as we pass Number 1,” Lady Barrington cautioned Marianne. “’Twould not do to be considered over inquisitive.”

“Was Jane able to establish the cause of the commotion this morning?”

“She was. There was a concern about Lord Templeton’s health which I am very pleased to say turned out to be a false alarm.”

“That is good to hear.” Marianne hated to hear of anyone suffering illness.

Lady Barrington tucked her arm through her niece’s. “But you will be very pleased with what I found out next. The word amongst the servants is that this health scare led to a conversation about the need for Mr. Templeton to marry ere long and produce an heir. His wife will be Lady Templeton– imagine!”

I have no interest in this matter; I am not searching for a husband.

“Well, my dear, Jane also told me that earlier, before the medical emergency, your name was mentioned at the Templeton breakfast table as a fitting bride for Mr. Templeton. What do you think of that?”

Marianne’s eyelids began to sting. She was determined not to give way to her feelings, but the tears started to escape nonetheless.

“Look at me, Marianne,” Lady Barrington commanded. Marianne held up her head and regarded her aunt through a watery haze. “Ah, I see I have been a blundering idiot– as usual. I apologize unreservedly, my sweet child. I know first-hand what the pain of losing a dear husband is like. Please, forgive me– and I promise to stop talking about your marriage prospects until such time as you are ready. Or, at least, I promise to try my best to be more circumspect. Now, let us walk briskly. Would you like to hold Nelson’s lead? He does so adore you.”

Marianne nodded her acquiescence and Nelson gave her a baleful look before licking the hem of her dress.

“And on reflection, I think we should browse the bookshop, and then visit a teashop before we venture to the dressmaker. I know how much you adore reading, and I always find a hot drink and a sweet treat cure most ills. Come, my dear– place your best foot forward!”

I wish I had even an ounce of my aunt’s indomitable spirit, for she knows how to overcome the difficulties of life and find joy after bereavement. How glad I am that I have come to stay with her in Bath. Perhaps here I will learn to control my unquiet mind and find the courage to face my future– whatsoever that might be.