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Mrs Sommersby's Second Chance

Page 4

by Laurie Benson


  He leaned over her and her breath caught as his lips drew closer to her eyelids. His finely made arms, defined through the linen of his blue coat, came around hers. He could have easily stood to the side of her to free the bit of fabric, but being surrounded by all his quiet masculine presence, she was glad he had decided not to.

  ‘You truly have got yourself caught.’

  He looked down at her and flecks of gold were visible in his blue eyes. ‘I know I haven’t spent much time in your presence, however, this is the quietest I think I have seen you,’ he said with a slight smile.

  ‘I don’t want to distract you.’

  ‘You already have.’

  She lifted her chin and now their mouths were a few inches apart. The warm air of his breath brushed across her lips. The last time she had kissed a man was ten years ago. And even then, she couldn’t ever recall her pulse beating like this at the thought of kissing her husband.

  Just a few more inches and their lips would be touching. Just a few more inches and she would wrap her arms around his neck and let herself sink into his embrace.

  His arms tightened around hers and she felt the tugging of the back of her dress. ‘I think I have it,’ he said, his breath caressing her lips.

  So close, their lips were so close.

  A loud yapping broke the moment and the gentleman she was thinking of kissing reeled back and it was then that she realised she was free. Free of the shrub and the spell that had been cast over her. Free of desires that left her forgetting where she was or the fact that she didn’t know who she was with.

  She was a respectable widow and respectable women did not go around kissing gentlemen behind some shrubbery in a public park.

  Humphrey’s small black and brown body was hidden within the bottom branches of the thick hedge beside her, but his little black head and brown ears were visible. He continued to bark at the gentleman who had come to her aid.

  ‘Where did you come from?’ He looked between the small dog and Clara. ‘You might want to step away. It doesn’t appear very friendly.’

  ‘It’s fine. He’s fine. He belongs to me.’ She looked down at Humphrey. ‘Now hush. The nice gentleman was helping me,’ she said to the creature who was responsible for this awkward encounter.

  ‘I don’t think he likes me.’

  ‘He just wants to get out from under the bush.’

  The gentleman lowered himself to the heels of his top boots. The muscles of his thighs flexed in his cream-coloured breeches when his coat parted with his movement. He held his gloved hand out to Humphrey, but didn’t say a word, giving the dog the opportunity to sniff him.

  ‘He won’t go to you. He’s stuck in the bushes.’

  ‘He’s stuck, too?’

  Clara held up the loop of Humphrey’s leash that was wrapped around her wrist, giving a slight tug to the bit of the red cord that was free of the tangled mess for him to see. Humphrey let out a series of barks as if he was trying to explain to the gentleman how it happened.

  ‘First your dress and now your dog’s leash? You two are quite a pair.’

  ‘If we are being precise, it was his leash first and then my dress.’

  Lane stood up and strode towards her. ‘Can you untangle it?’

  ‘I had been trying to when my dress got caught. I wasn’t having much luck.’

  ‘Let me see if I can help.’ He squatted just out of Humphrey’s reach and then held out his hand to the puppy. ‘What have you done to yourself, little one?’

  Instead of sniffing the gentleman’s hand, Humphrey appeared to try to explain how it had happened before lowering his head to his paws.

  ‘I see. Well, let’s free you from this mess so you and your mistress do not have to spend the night here.’ Humphrey looked up at him as he traced the red cord from the dog’s collar into the hedge and moved some of the branches around to study the tangled mess. ‘How did he do this?’ he asked, his attention still focused on untangling the cord.

  ‘I’m not sure. He was chasing a butterfly and the next thing I knew I was pulled practically into the bush.’

  ‘Your leash is too long. You need a shorter one.’ He motioned for her to hand him her end and then he worked it through the branches.

  Not wanting to inadvertently get caught in the bushes again, Clara adjusted her blue shawl around her shoulders. ‘Do you think you will be able to free him or should we just untie the leash from his collar?’

  ‘I think I’ve got it. Just a few more twists... There, he is free.’

  He handed her the end of the leash just as Humphrey let out a few barks before charging the gentleman’s leg and resting his paws on his knee. He was rewarded with some scratching behind his ears and Humphrey whipped his head around and licked the man’s hand.

  ‘No more chasing butterflies for you, young man.’

  Humphrey gave an excited bark as if to say he agreed the adventure had not been worth it.

  Clara took a step closer to them and prayed Humphrey would not embarrass her with more of his inappropriate displays. ‘Thank you very much for your assistance. I’m not sure what we would have done if you had not come along.’

  ‘Well, I’m just glad I did.’ He moved his hands to scratch Humphrey’s neck and the little dog wagged his tail.

  ‘Humphrey loves having his neck scratched. If you keep doing that, he won’t allow you to get up.’

  He looked up at her. ‘Humphrey? This is Humphrey?’

  ‘That’s his name,’ she said, nodding.

  ‘Well, it’s nice to meet you, Humphrey.’ He held out his hand to the dog, with his palm up. ‘Can you shake?’

  Humphrey barked and licked his hand.

  ‘Come now, gentlemen shake when they meet. Give me your paw.’

  Humphrey barked again.

  ‘He doesn’t understand what you’re asking.’

  ‘Then we will teach him.’ He tapped Humphrey’s right paw. ‘Paw.’ He held his hand out to Humphrey. ‘Give me your paw.’

  Once more Humphrey barked and a few more times the gentlemen tapped his paw and repeated the word.

  Each time, Humphrey barked. But the last time when the gentleman held out his hand and requested his paw, Humphrey placed it in his hand. He closed his fingers around the little paw and gave it a small shake, while he scratched Humphrey’s neck with his other hand. The dog let out a series of happy sounds as if he was letting him know how proud he was that he learned a new trick. Then he looked at Clara with his big brown eyes and let out another bark.

  ‘Yes, I see. You’ve learned something new.’ She took a step closer as the gentleman gave one last pat to Humphrey’s head before standing up.

  ‘You seem quite at ease with him. Do you have a dog of your own?’

  ‘Not any longer. I did for a while a long time ago. I travel too much now.’

  ‘Travelling a lot sounds like an adventurous life.’

  ‘I suppose some people may see it as such. Most times the travelling is rather tedious.’

  ‘I’m surprised to see you here. This small stretch is not typically frequented by visitors. They normally enjoy promenading up by the Crescent.’

  ‘Crawling might be a better word. They were moving much too slowly for my liking.’ He took a step closer.

  ‘Moving at a sedate pace can be enjoyable when you find your companions entertaining.’

  His eyes held hers for a few heartbeats before he looked around for Humphrey. ‘But when you are alone and have some place to be, walking behind people being entertained is irritating.’

  The candid statement was made with such a gruff delivery it almost made her laugh. ‘I imagine it would be. So where did you need to be?’

  ‘Today?’

  She nodded and waited for him to respond.

  ‘Nowhere...exactly. But that doesn’t mea
n it was any less bothersome.’

  A small laugh crept out before she could hold it back. ‘So, you came here to avoid the people out there enjoying themselves.’

  His brows drew together and he crossed his arms. Standing tall with his legs apart, he appeared to be preparing for battle. ‘You seem to enjoy having fun at my expense.’

  ‘I am not having fun at your expense. But you must admit you take the most benign things quite seriously.’

  ‘I do not.’

  ‘You do. I have lived most of my life in this town and not once have I witnessed anyone inspect the water as carefully as you did yesterday. And today you couldn’t even enjoy a walk along the Crescent.’

  ‘That does not mean I have a serious disposition.’

  She crossed her arms in return. ‘How would your friends describe you?’

  ‘That is neither here nor there.’

  ‘That tells me that you know they would not be describing you as jovial.’

  ‘I should have left you in the bushes.’

  The off-the-cuff comment didn’t insult her, but made her laugh instead. ‘So perhaps you aren’t so serious all the time. What have you found enjoyable while you’ve been here in Bath?’

  ‘I have yet to have the opportunity to see much of the town.’

  ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘Eight days.’

  ‘Eight days and you haven’t seen much of Bath? What have you been doing all this time?’

  ‘I’m here on business and haven’t really got out much.’

  ‘Apparently. I think we need to remedy that. It might help with that disposition of yours.’

  ‘And what do you think I’d find enjoyable here?’

  My company is enjoyable, she wanted to say. ‘I suppose it depends on what you like. Perhaps it would be better to ask what kinds of activities you find enjoyable.’

  He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.

  It seemed he was not going to make suggesting what he should do an easy endeavour. ‘Well, one can assume you do not enjoy long strolls.’

  ‘No. That is not true. I do enjoy a brisk walk. It helps me clear my thoughts.’

  ‘Then we will put brisk walking on the list. Perhaps you would enjoy visiting the Lower Assembly Rooms. They are near the bowling green and close to some lovely walks that are laid out by the river. If you time it just right, you might be able to walk the pathways before the crowds descend. And the public breakfast that is served there every Wednesday is quite good.’

  ‘That’s a much too leisurely way to spend my days.’

  ‘Well, you could always attend the dress and fancy balls in the evenings in the Upper Assembly Rooms. I prefer the dress balls, myself. And there are cards rooms at those if you do not dance.’

  ‘What makes you think I do not know how to dance?’

  ‘Forgive me. I meant if you were not inclined to dance.’

  ‘I find balls rather tedious. Too much talking about the weather and the state of the roads.’

  ‘Of course. Who would want to speak to all those people enjoying each other’s company?’

  His lips pressed together which made her laugh again.

  ‘Then perhaps you would prefer a concert or the theatre. Bath has a vast array of ways to entertain yourself while you are here. Your wife might enjoy those activities.’ She waited to see if he would confirm that he was married. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might be until now.

  ‘Was that your way of finding out if I am married?’

  She was not one to hide her inquisitive nature so she smiled up at him. ‘Are you?’

  Instead of appearing affronted by her question, the hint of a small smile played on his lips. ‘No. I am not.’

  ‘Neither am I.’ Clara held back a groan. Why, oh, why had she offered that bit of information? It wasn’t as if he had bothered to ask her.

  ‘I know. I assumed from the Pump Room that you are widowed. I’m sorry for your loss.’

  ‘Thank you, but my husband passed a long time ago.’

  The small creases at the corners of his eyes deepened as they looked at one another.

  Humphrey’s head nudged her ankle, drawing her attention down to her dog. When she saw him eyeing the gentleman’s boot with that expression she had come to know, a sense of dread filled her chest. She held tight to his leash and tugged him back, closer to her.

  Humphrey let out a series of barks in protest.

  ‘I really should be taking him home. He is probably hungry.’

  ‘Would you like me to escort you back from where you came?’

  ‘No, thank you. That won’t be necessary. I don’t have far to go.’ Humphrey pulled on the leash in the direction of the gentleman, making their departure all the more urgent. ‘I do hope you’ll take my suggestions. It would be a pity if you spent your time here without enjoying some of what this town has to offer.’

  His eyes seemed to darken momentarily. ‘I’ll consider your suggestions.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

  There was something about being around this gentleman that made it hard not to smile. She was just glad this time she did so only after she had turned to walk away.

  ‘Wait. I do not even know your name,’ he called after her.

  Clara pulled back on Humphrey’s leash and turned around. ‘Mrs Clara Sommersby. And you are...?’

  He tipped his head and held the brim of his hat. ‘Mr William Lane.’ A smile softened the hard planes of his features.

  There was no reason to hide her smile now as she bobbed a curtsy. ‘Good day, Mr Lane. Perhaps we shall meet again.’

  * * *

  It had taken all of Lane’s restraint not to follow Mrs Sommersby out from behind the hedgerow in their secluded spot in the park. As it were, he watched her slowly walk away from him with her small dog trotting along beside her until she reached the end of the hedge where the dirt path they were on merged with the gravel pathway that would take her out of the park.

  There was something about being around her that had him wanting to talk with her some more and not rush back to the coffee house as he had originally intended. But now, running back to the coffee house was the furthest thing from his mind as he wondered if she walked her dog here often. When he reached the edge of the wooded park, he looked left and right, trying to catch sight of her, but to no avail. She was nowhere to be found. Digging his hands into his pockets, he resumed his walk. This time he didn’t mind the slow pace, since, instead of focusing on reaching his destination, his mind was filled with thoughts of Mrs Sommersby. And the fact that for those few moments she was stuck to the bush, more than anything, he had wanted to kiss her.

  Chapter Five

  Two days later Lane sat across from Hart and the Duke of Lyonsdale in the office in the back room of the coffee house and tried his best to decipher the man’s expression. Lyonsdale had listened intently to what Hart and Lane had to say about the planned spa—but he hadn’t asked any questions. The Duke had invested his money with them in past ventures and in prior instances he always had some questions. However, today he sat with his arms crossed and a neutral expression on his face. It couldn’t be possible that Lyonsdale was going to turn them down. This spa had the potential to become one of their most profitable ventures yet.

  Tapping his finger on the proposed budget that laid between them on the table, Lane leaned closer. ‘You have yet to tell us your thoughts. You see the potential, do you not?’

  Lyonsdale nodded and sat back in his chair. ‘Those numbers are impressive—however, I’m afraid I cannot invest in this.’

  Lane could feel his composure start to slip and he almost had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from calling this well-respected member of the House of Lords an ass. ‘Might I ask why?’

  ‘Because I have been comin
g to Bath for years and I see the changes that are taking place here. How many times have you been to Bath, Lane?’

  ‘I just started visiting recently.’

  ‘I see. Well, let me tell you what I’ve observed. This town was once overflowing with members of the ton. Parading along the Crescent resembled making your way through the crowds at Almack’s on a Wednesday night. But do you know what I see now?’

  Lane shook his head, wishing that he could tell Lyonsdale that he didn’t want to know. Those numbers on that page spoke louder to him.

  ‘Now I see a town fading somewhat in its glory as the most fashionable place to be outside of London. There are not nearly as many members of the ton here as there once were. Brighton is where the Regent is. Brighton is where the growth is. Do not mistake what I am saying. Bath is still a desirable destination, but for how much longer? It may be profitable now, but can you truly tell me it will continue to be profitable ten years from now...or twenty?’

  While Lyonsdale, unlike many members of English Society, always treated Lane with respect, Lane had never felt the divide in class as acutely with the man as he did at this very moment.

  ‘There are no guarantees in business,’ Lane replied, looking Lyonsdale directly in the eye. ‘I cannot say with one hundred per cent certainty that this venture will be profitable ten years from now or twenty. But what I can guarantee is that right now...now, those numbers are sound. And while people of your class and position may not be flocking here the way they once were, people of my class are. The merchant class and those who are discovering ways to make money through industry, we are all here. And there are many more of us than there are of you.’

  He liked the man. He truly did. But how could he not see what was right in front of him?

  ‘I didn’t mean to appear so singular in my vision.’

 

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