Once the new baby was born there would be no reason for him to remain in Bath. Except…
While in Bath, he spent several hours a day on his father’s businesses and looking into new ventures or expansions of existing ones. The idea of new businesses excited him, and Bath was the perfect place to grow their holdings. What astounded him more than anything was how little he missed London.
The lack of enthusiasm among his peers regarding the Parliamentary bill, the social events in the evenings that were either boring or full of mothers dragging their daughters in front of him, or the ridiculous bets at White’s, was far removed from Bath both in distance and similarity. He swore the air was cleaner, the traffic less congested, and the Avon river smelled better than the Thames, by far.
And then there was Lizbeth.
He constantly felt something tickling at the back of his neck when they were together, and a sense of absence when they were apart. One concern he could not shake off was the fact that they had gotten Lizbeth away too easily. The people who ran the ring that abducted young women were ruthless and did not like being thwarted.
Just because the only repercussions they’d had so far was the visit from Mrs. O’Leary to the bookstore did not mean Lizbeth was safe. There were some days when he felt like he was waiting for the second shoe to drop.
On another note, she was slowly, but definitely, crawling into his heart. Everything about her appealed to him. Her looks, her softness, the way she was coming back from her horrendous experience, the joy on her face when she’d spotted her paintings, and the sadness for her little brother when she hugged Michael.
His years as a rake were behind him, even if he did decide to return to London and his life there. He had no desire to replace his mistress and could only think of one woman he wanted in his bed.
Lizbeth.
But would she ever get over what happened to her? Be able to share intimacy with a husband? Did he have the patience to give her the time she needed?
Yes, to the last one.
He’d always been a patient man and once he decided Lizbeth was for him—and that day was coming closer—he would wait as long as she needed. As difficult as it might be once she was his wife, a long and happy marriage depended on it.
Did he say once she was his wife? Had he made up his mind? He grinned. Apparently so.
He pushed the meandering aside when he realized Lizbeth sat at her easel, paint brush in her hand, patiently waiting for his answer.
“Yes. There is a good possibility I will be here in the spring.”
She turned back to her easel. “Good.”
What the devil did that mean? Surely, she wasn’t thinking along the lines he was? He whistled a soft tune as he left her happily painting.
The carriage pulled up in front of the Assembly a little past ten o’clock. The hundreds of candles and lamps burning inside lit up the front of the building as if it were daytime.
There was a man in America, Mr. Thomas Edison, who claimed to have invented what he called a ‘light bulb’ that had all the world excited about the possibility of having lighting at night that was almost as strong as sunshine.
Marcus felt it would be a good thing for no other reason than all the fires caused as the result of inept handling of candles and oil lamps.
“Oh, I think I just saw Pamela and Nick enter the assembly. I thought they would be on a wedding trip,” Lizbeth said as she took Marcus’s arm and they started up the stairs.
“He told me at their wedding that they weren’t going to take more than a few days honeymoon because while he’d been in London Carter had found him a buyer for his club.”
“That’s right, Carter Westbrooke is his solicitor, isn’t he?”
“Yes. And Berkshire’s and mine.” Marcus helped her off with her cloak.
Lizbeth smoothed out the few wrinkles in her gown from the short carriage ride. “Nick is selling the club?”
“Yes. Apparently, it has always been his goal to sell the club and reinvest his money into something he referred to as ‘respectable’. I’m sure taking Pamela to wife encouraged him to do it sooner than later.” Marcus took her arm as they made their way past the throngs of attendees to where Lottie, Carter, Pamela and Nick stood.
“Oh, so nice to see you Lizbeth!” Lottie hugged her and turned to Marcus. “And you, too, Marcus.”
He bowed to the group. “It is a pleasure to see all of you, as well.”
“If only Addie could b-be here, then we would all be t-together.” Pamela took Lizbeth’s hands and squeezed them.
Lottie looked over at Marcus. “How does Addie fare? I promised her that Pamela and I would come for tea this week.” She turned toward Lizbeth. “We want to be sure to pick a day when you will be there, as well.”