Gail Eastwood by A Perilous Journey

to a compliment sincerely meant,” he said reprovingly.
    Caught off guard, Gillian looked up. Sparks were already racing through her veins from his proximity, and when she saw the warm look in his eyes, they all burst into flame at once. Her eyes widened in alarm at the sensation.
    Brinton smiled and moved away. He took up his own plate and, to Gillian’s dismay, sat down across from her next to Gilbey, where she could not avoid his disconcerting gaze. She bent her head to her plate, pretending to look for bones in her fish. Could he possibly sense her reaction to him? Did she somehow betray herself, or did men have some way of knowing?
    “Gillie, you do look very fine this morning,” her brother said, filling the awkward pause.
    “You are too kind,” she replied, finding her voice. Bravely, she raised her head to address Brinton. “And how is it we have the pleasure of your company this early in the day, my lord?” It came out sounding like a challenge.
    The earl leaned back in his chair. “I could risk another set-down and say that I simply could not stay away from your shining presence, or I could take the coward’s way out and admit that the offerings at the Castle cannot begin to compare with Mrs. Alford’s table.”
    Gilbey chuckled, and Gillian could not hide a smile. “Where is our intrepid hostess this morning?” she asked.
    “Alice and I have been friends since childhood, and early hours have never agreed with her,” Brinton informed them. “I am sure we will see her later in the day.”
    Gillian gave herself a mental slap for questions that were none of her business and changed the subject. “Upon your recommendation, my lord, we have changed our route and, one might say, have gone to cover here in Bath. We have you to thank as well as Mrs. Alford for a very comfortable night. But what would you suggest we do now?”
    “I have business to attend here, and I think you may safely spend the day. It is a shame the shops are not open, for I am sure there are necessities that you have had to leave behind. However, we could tour the city a bit if that would please you.”
    “Could we?” Gillian’s enthusiasm for the idea blinded her to any question about what sort of business Brinton might need to conduct on a Sunday. She turned to her twin. “Gilbey, do you think we would be safe? Is there anyone who would know us?”
    “I don’t recall that we have any connections in Bath. And who would suspect a pair of runaways to be taking in the sights?”
    “Can we see the Roman antiquities? My father read to us about them. Can you imagine digging in the dirt and finding a head of Minerva! It gives me chills of excitement just to think of it! Does one have to take the waters to see the baths? And I’d love to see Pulteney Bridge—they say it is like a little piece of Italy.”
    Rafferty found Gillian’s childlike eagerness a refreshing change from the studied boredom practiced by the
ton
. He gave her the wide, brilliant smile that lit up his whole face. “What, not asking for the shops or the Pump Room first? But, of course. History and architecture it is.” He turned to Gilbey. “Will your knee bear walking today?”
    Gilbey thought that walking might relieve some of his stiffness, so after their meal the trio set off. They agreed that if anyone inquired, the twins were to pose as Brinton’s visiting cousins from Devonshire.
    It seemed as if the sun had drawn everyone in Bath into the streets. As the twins and Brinton progressed through Laura Place and across Pulteney Bridge, the pedestrian traffic on the pavements grew thicker and thicker, far surpassing the congestion of vehicular traffic in the roadways.
    “If ‘everyone of consequence’ is in London for the Season, how can there still be so many people here?” Gillian asked Brinton playfully.
    “Clearly, Bath hosts an immense population of inconsequential persons, including ourselves,” Brinton replied, and they both laughed.
    Gillian