‘Is there nothing I can do to help, sir? Surely your man of business and your solicitor and your steward should all be assisting you.’
‘They are. They assist me by endlessly wanting decisions, raising problems, quibbling over detail.’ The Marquess pushed his wire-framed spectacles to the top of his head, making him look like a somewhat less amiable version of Benjamin Franklin. ‘This lot...’ he swept a hand around at the piles ‘...is what they want decisions on today.’
‘Then tell me when something arises with which I can assist.’ Encouraged, or at least not dismissed, by a grunt, Ivo sat down. ‘It is four months since my father’s death. I note you have not ordered mourning for the household.’
‘Or myself. The older I get, the less I hold with it. All that money going to pay for yard upon yard of black cloth, everyone looking like crows, people whispering disapproval behind their hands if you turn up at a party—what good does it do the deceased, I ask you? Matthew is not sitting on some celestial cloud tut-tutting at us. The sticklers soon forget to be shocked if you aren’t wearing black to remind them.’ He shot Ivo a sharp look. ‘I see you are not wearing it either.’
‘I was in uniform when the news reached me. Then, when I got back to England, I was in too much of a hurry to try and catch Miss Parris before it was too late to bother with tailors. I think I agree with you, now I consider it.’ It would be an empty conventional gesture, but that was all. He wished suddenly that he could feel some pain, some deep sense of loss, but there was just regret for a life lost needlessly.
‘Excellent. If we are not officially in mourning, then there is nothing to hinder your courting, either.’
‘No, sir.’
Ivo beat a hasty retreat to his own wing. What had come over him, offering to take Jane to Bath? The call had been to set his mind at rest that she had reached Batheaston safely and also, if he was honest with himself, to tease her a little. That was all that was necessary. He could have honestly told his grandfather that he had called on the young lady who had been causing his uncertainty and leave him to stew for a week or so while Ivo looked around, put thoughts of Daphne in the past where they belonged and found the will to consider seeking a suitable wife.
Now he was committed to escorting a young lady who was going to want to explore not the contents of Bath’s shops, but to search for empty ones. And what was he going to do if she found something? Tell her formidable cousin, he supposed, although that would feel like a betrayal. Which it should not because it would be for Jane’s own good.
Jane Newnham was a distraction. She was difficult, provoking but, unfortunately, interesting. Interesting in much the same way as one was interested in why a particular piece of music stuck in your head in a maddening manner or why Byron’s writing was so compelling when he was such an infuriating individual.
An afternoon in her company should be enough to quell that particular irritation, he decided. And, if he saw a shop with a To Let sign in the window, he would simply steer her in the opposite direction.
* * *
Most young ladies would take infinite pains before being taken for a ride by an eligible earl. Ivo knew that and knew perfectly well that such efforts would not be due to his own personal charms. However, he was ready to be suitably admiring of the result, as was expected of him. He left Robert, his groom, with the reins of the fine pair of bays he had chosen from the Tower stables and strolled down the footpath between Miss Lowry’s admirable rose beds.
He was also prepared to be kept waiting so that the lady in question could make an entrance. In consequence it was difficult to keep the surprise off his face when the front door opened and Jane stepped out when he was halfway down the garden path. She was wearing a neat but perfectly ordinary walking dress—one he recognised from their journey from London. Her bonnet was familiar, too, as were the sensible walking shoes that kicked the single flounce on the gown as she walked briskly towards him. No flirty little parasol either, he noticed. Only the reticule was different. Hopefully she had left the pocket pistol behind.
‘Good afternoon, Miss Newnham,’ he said, raising his hat and conscious of the ears on the phaeton and, probably, those behind the front door. ‘No sketch pad today?’
‘Notebook,’ she said, all brisk efficiency. ‘And good afternoon to you, Lord Kendall.’
He handed her up on to the seat where she made herself comfortable with a little wriggle and one, unfussy, twitch at her skirts.
‘What a handsome pair,’ she observed. Clearly his horses were of more interest than he was, he thought, amused at the fact he felt faintly piqued.
‘My grandfather bred them. I have to confess to finding it hard to drag myself away from the stables.’
‘Then I am to be congratulated on giving you a pretext to try these beauties,’ she said.
‘Come now, Miss Newnham, how can you believe I had any other motive than the pleasure of your company?’ He clicked his tongue at the bays and they walked on, ears pricked. They were eager, but well mannered, and with a flick of the reins he sent them into a brisk trot past the lane leading to the ferry to Bath Hampton and on towards Bathwick.
Jane laughed. ‘You, my lord, were set on teasing me by inviting me and we both know it.’ She lowered her voice, clearly conscious of Robert perched up behind. ‘But you may certainly pay for your mischief by being useful today.’
The day was fine and the road, which was the stage and Mail route, was well maintained, so they bowled along at a good pace, making suitably banal conversation. Jane
admired the view of the canal, Ivo remarked on the likely problems of flooding, both agreed that the view of Bath ahead of them, spilling down the hillside, golden in the sunshine, was very fine.
They rattled over the cobbles of Walcott Parade, swept past St Swithin’s Church and then up steep, narrow, Guinea Lane into Bennett Street. Ivo drew up in front of the Assembly Rooms and turned in the seat. ‘We will meet you here at four thirty, Robert. I will drive us down to the head of Milsom Street now and you can take them to the livery stables from there.’
‘Aye, my lord.’
‘Milsom Street? But I do not—’ Jane subsided, but as soon as they were on the pavement and Robert was driving away, she turned to Ivo, indignant. ‘You know I do not want to go shopping. Or window shopping, for that matter. And I know perfectly well that shop rents in Milsom Street will be far too expensive for me.’
‘Are you really determined on this mad scheme?’ Ivo demanded. He tucked her right hand firmly under his arm and began to stroll downhill. ‘You know perfectly well it is too much of a risk both to your reputation and to your resources.’
There was the faintest of hesitations. ‘If I can find the right premises, yes, I am determined.’
‘And what of your cousin? What are her views on the matter?’ Silence. He glanced down at an uncommunicative hat brim. ‘Have you discussed it with her?’