found she was quite enjoying herself, walking along with her hand resting lightly in the crook of Lord Brinton’s elbow. Propriety had demanded that she borrow a shawl and bonnet from Mrs. Alford, so she felt rather stylishly turned out. The crowds had made it impossible to walk three abreast, and Gilbey had dropped behind them, stopping here and there to examine details of the scenery that caught his artist’s eye. They paused along the river’s bank for a view of the bridge. The sound of the rushing rapids blocked out the noises of the city.
“
Now
I can see something to admire in it,” Gillian said, gazing back at the celebrated structure. “When we walked over it, it seemed nothing more than a charming street of shops!”
“If you ever travel to Venice, you will have had a preview of what you will see there,” Brinton commented. His eyes were on Gillian, not the view.
“I will be happy if I can get to Scotland,” she said sharply, turning away. She did not wish to be reminded of the uncertain future, or even the limitations of the present.
The earl stayed a moment as she began to move away. Gillian could sense that he was still watching her. Then she heard him move, and he was beside her again, taking her hand and gently tucking it back in the crook of his arm.
“I did not mean to upset you,” he said apologetically. “In fact, I was wondering if you might not be happy, here in this place, at this moment, on this day.”
In this company
, thought Gillian, but Brinton had not said those words.
I almost could be
, she added to herself. She did not dare to tell Brinton that, however. It alarmed her to think how much she was enjoying being with him.
They turned toward Bath Abbey, towering above the other buildings in this oldest part of the city. Prudence suggested that they avoid the services underway inside, but they found much to admire in its rich exterior, including the famous sculptured angels clambering up celestial ladders on the west front.
“They do not appear to have the least interest in interceding for us mere mortals, do they?” Gillian asked.
Brinton caught her reference to
Tristram Shandy
right away, “Your education is showing again, Miss Kentwell. Have a care, or someone may take you for a bluestocking!”
“In Scotland they are not averse to educated females,” she said with a defensive toss of her head.
She started off ahead of the two men, but Brinton caught her hand before she had taken a second step. “Don’t you know that I meant that as a compliment?” he said softly.
“Gillie thinks they read Laurence Sterne in Scotland,” Gilbey teased.
“I have heard that they teach a good deal more than embroidery in their female academies. One day they will have women in the universities,” she declared staunchly.
Looking down into Gillian’s earnest face, the earl knew he did not want to talk about Scotland. He felt his emotions swirling in a confusion of warmth and sympathy that he thought he saw answered in the blue-green depths of her eyes. She made a lovely picture in her blue dress with the borrowed shawl and bonnet. She was charming and intelligent, and he wondered if, after all, his uncle had known exactly what he was doing in choosing her. If it was all an act on her part, it was a damn fine one.
He steered the twins up Union Street. “I judge the Pump Room will be too crowded to suit us at this time of day,” he said to both of his companions, “but I believe it is required for all ladies to take in the shops on Milsom Street. Even, or perhaps most advantageously, when the shops are closed.”
And we will be less likely to run into anyone who will wish to converse or ask questions
, Brinton added to himself. He hoped Alice was having some luck with the inquiries he had asked her to make for him while he kept the twins occupied.
In front of a milliner’s window they halted. “Gilbey, look! There’s a little cork riding hat almost exactly like the one I
“
Now
I can see something to admire in it,” Gillian said, gazing back at the celebrated structure. “When we walked over it, it seemed nothing more than a charming street of shops!”
“If you ever travel to Venice, you will have had a preview of what you will see there,” Brinton commented. His eyes were on Gillian, not the view.
“I will be happy if I can get to Scotland,” she said sharply, turning away. She did not wish to be reminded of the uncertain future, or even the limitations of the present.
The earl stayed a moment as she began to move away. Gillian could sense that he was still watching her. Then she heard him move, and he was beside her again, taking her hand and gently tucking it back in the crook of his arm.
“I did not mean to upset you,” he said apologetically. “In fact, I was wondering if you might not be happy, here in this place, at this moment, on this day.”
In this company
, thought Gillian, but Brinton had not said those words.
I almost could be
, she added to herself. She did not dare to tell Brinton that, however. It alarmed her to think how much she was enjoying being with him.
They turned toward Bath Abbey, towering above the other buildings in this oldest part of the city. Prudence suggested that they avoid the services underway inside, but they found much to admire in its rich exterior, including the famous sculptured angels clambering up celestial ladders on the west front.
“They do not appear to have the least interest in interceding for us mere mortals, do they?” Gillian asked.
Brinton caught her reference to
Tristram Shandy
right away, “Your education is showing again, Miss Kentwell. Have a care, or someone may take you for a bluestocking!”
“In Scotland they are not averse to educated females,” she said with a defensive toss of her head.
She started off ahead of the two men, but Brinton caught her hand before she had taken a second step. “Don’t you know that I meant that as a compliment?” he said softly.
“Gillie thinks they read Laurence Sterne in Scotland,” Gilbey teased.
“I have heard that they teach a good deal more than embroidery in their female academies. One day they will have women in the universities,” she declared staunchly.
Looking down into Gillian’s earnest face, the earl knew he did not want to talk about Scotland. He felt his emotions swirling in a confusion of warmth and sympathy that he thought he saw answered in the blue-green depths of her eyes. She made a lovely picture in her blue dress with the borrowed shawl and bonnet. She was charming and intelligent, and he wondered if, after all, his uncle had known exactly what he was doing in choosing her. If it was all an act on her part, it was a damn fine one.
He steered the twins up Union Street. “I judge the Pump Room will be too crowded to suit us at this time of day,” he said to both of his companions, “but I believe it is required for all ladies to take in the shops on Milsom Street. Even, or perhaps most advantageously, when the shops are closed.”
And we will be less likely to run into anyone who will wish to converse or ask questions
, Brinton added to himself. He hoped Alice was having some luck with the inquiries he had asked her to make for him while he kept the twins occupied.
In front of a milliner’s window they halted. “Gilbey, look! There’s a little cork riding hat almost exactly like the one I
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