‘You can arrange a cushion for him.’
‘It’s not the same.’ Apparently, Humphrey agreed because he let out a series of barks.
‘Do you want me to truly train him or did you just want me here to kiss me?’ The teasing sound was back in his voice.
‘Can’t I have both?’
‘I am more than content to spend the day with you in my arms—however, at some point I can guarantee I will be wanting to do more than kiss you.’ He tilted his head and looked at her, waiting for her reply.
She already wanted that, too, very much. It was what she had thought about last night. But could she trust herself not to give her heart to him if she gave him her body?
‘Oh, very well. Show me how I can get this rascal to listen to me.’ Using her best pouting face, she lowered Humphrey to the rug beside her feet.
Humphrey barked up at them and went to jump back on to the sofa, but Lane instructed her how to tell the dog no and how to get him to understand that she meant it. After twenty more minutes, they took a break for tea.
‘You’ve impressed me with what you’ve been able to accomplish with him in such a short time,’ she said as they sipped their tea and watched Humphrey sniff the legs on her pianoforte that was in the corner of the room. ‘I think you’ve managed to wear him out. Look how slowly he is moving. How can I ever repay you for this?’
‘I’m not leaving just yet.’
His gaze dropped down to her lips and her mouth suddenly went dry.
‘I would hope not.’
‘There is one more thing we need to do.’
Chapter Twenty-One
‘How in the world did I allow you to talk me into this?’ she asked, following him outside her front door. ‘This is not a good idea.’
Lane could tell by the look on Clara’s face that she was intrigued and terrified at the same time. They stood on the pavement in front of her home between the iron gates with Humphrey beside them without his leash. He was wagging his tail and looking up between them. Already he was able to understand that he could not run off and he needed to watch them for permission. Lane prayed there were no squirrels nearby. If there were, there was no telling how long he would find himself chasing Humphrey this afternoon.
‘Whenever you are ready,’ he said to Clara.
They turned out of her gate to the right and started to stroll along the Crescent to begin their short walk. There was no sense in keeping Humphrey out for a long time without his leash. It was too risky. They would just walk along for a bit to see if the dog would obey before taking him back home.
‘Come, Humphrey,’ she called out and the dog padded over to her side and then circled around to walk between them.
‘My dog likes you.’
‘I like him, too. You have a fine fellow in Humphrey.’
‘You are generous with your praise. You know how he is.’
Lane glanced down at the puppy walking with his chin held high and knew that when he did leave Bath, he would miss his small, furry friend. It wasn’t often he received the kind of greeting he received each time he ran into Humphrey.
‘Yes, but it doesn’t dim any of the brightness one feels from being the centre of his attention. I believe I shall miss him when I return to London.’
‘Will you be returning to London soon?’
‘Sooner than I would prefer, I believe. However, I am not sure of the date just yet.’
Over Humphrey’s head, Lane placed his hand close enough to hers that he was able to secretly brush his fingers against hers hidden in the folds of the skirt of her blue gown. He couldn’t help himself. This moment—this walk—felt oddly intimate since they were walking in broad daylight with the dog between them. It felt comfortable. It felt natural. It felt as though this was how he was supposed to be spending his afternoons.
He had been so certain that the owner of the hotel would sell him the property that it never occurred to him that he might be leaving town in less than a week’s time and his dream of building a spa would die in the office of Mr Edwards. He would find out soon enough. Glancing over at Clara, strolling serenely along by his side, he started to wonder if his profound sense of loss had more to do with leaving her than it did with not opening the spa.
They were approaching the corner of the pavement that would take them back on to the Crescent when she turned to him and broke the silence that had surrounded them for the last ten minutes.
‘I will miss you when you are gone.’
It was a short statement—just eight words. But those words had hit him in the chest and meant so much. He wanted to say it back to her. He wanted to admit that he was not looking forward to the days when he would wake in the morning without a sense of anticipation that he might see her somewhere. His days would be darker without Clara in them. She had every right to expect him to say it back—and yet he couldn’t.
Growing up in the Foundling Hospital had taught him at a very early age that children could be cruel and that admitting your feelings left you vulnerable. Those two things had proved to be a devastating combination. Life was safer on your soul if you kept your feelings to yourself.
Their eyes met and held for several heartbeats. She was waiting for him to say it back to her. It was in her eyes.
Humphrey let out a series of barks, breaking into this moment that was crushing his chest. While it first appeared that Humphrey was barking up at them, he was in fact barking at the expensively outfitted landau with an official crest on its door that was parked in front of Clara’s home and at the footmen wearing the burgundy livery of Clara’s staff who were unloading trunks from it and bringing them inside her house. As if she could sense Humphrey’s excitement at all the commotion, Clara picked him up and cradled him in her arms as they walked forward.
‘Were you expecting guests?’
‘No, but my nieces do have a habit of showing up unannounced. It might be one thing we Sommersby women pride ourselves on.’ She picked up the pace of her steps and her obvious delight that she would be reunited with one of her nieces shone on her face.
It was a feeling that he could not relate to.
Just as they approached her house, three tall women between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-one emerged from inside, wrapped close together and talking over each other. There was no mistaking they were sisters with their similar features and forms. The older two had jet-black hair, but the younger one’s hair was closer in colour to Clara’s. It was interesting to see Clara pause to watch them before taking a step closer. He couldn’t recall anyone looking at him with the expression Clara had on her face. It looked like a mixture of deep affection and pride.
The younger one spotted Clara and with a low squeal of delight she hurried towards her. With care, Clara placed Humphrey down on the pavement and met the girl halfway, enveloping her in her arms for a hug.
The young woman’s eyes closed in delight as she held on to Clara with a smile that brightened her entire face. ‘You always have given the best hugs. I’m so glad you have returned. We were wondering where you had gone off to. No one in the household seemed to know and Darby seemed quite perplexed you weren’t in the drawing room.’
The other two sisters joined in the hugging and Lane was free to watch the dynamics between the women play out before him. The excitement proved to be too much for poor Humphrey and he began barking excitedly at the women who were back to talking over one another.
‘Quiet, Humphrey,’ he stated quite firmly, looking down at the dog.
The dog looked back at him, pleading his case with his big black eyes and yapping his explanation.
‘You are too loud,’ he said, picking the puppy up. He told himself he did it to ensure Humphrey didn’t run over and paw at the women for attention. But he also took some comfort in holding the warm little dog that snuggled into the crook of his arm.
You k
new your feelings ran deep when you would also miss her dog when you left.
When he looked back over at the women all four of them were staring at him.
‘That dog looks like Ambrose,’ the youngest one commented offhandedly, stepping back from Clara.
There was an apologetic look in Clara’s eyes as she looked directly at him. ‘It is Ambrose.’
‘But this gentleman called him Humphrey.’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘They always are,’ the one with the finest clothes and the sapphire necklace said, eyeing him openly.
The younger one gave him a friendly smile and then turned to Clara. ‘Is this gentleman a friend of yours?’
They were friends, he supposed...by definition. But he’d never had a friend whom he’d kissed before. He’d certainly never had a friend who he’d wanted desperately to bed—countless times.
The woman waited for a response and continued to glance expectantly between him and Clara. Humphrey took this opportunity to lick his chin as if to inform the woman that Lane was his friend as well.
Clara walked over and guided him by the arm closer to the woman as if she realised it would be better if they were introduced to each other without the entire Crescent having to hear the conversation. ‘He is. Mr Lane, may I introduce my nieces to you. This is Elizabeth, the Duchess of Skeffington,’ she said, gesturing to the one in the finest clothes and then turned to the other woman with black hair. ‘And this is Lady Andrew Pearce.’
‘You may call me Lady Charlotte, Mr Lane,’ she replied with another warm smile.
The Duchess poked her with her elbow, showing her disapproval of her sister’s request. He knew an Andrew Pearce. At one time the man had lived in the Albany, the building where Lane had his residence, and the man was a friend of Hart’s. He had spent time with him at a number of races they had attended together over the years. He was a brother of the Duke of Winterbourne. Could this be his wife?
The youngest and most exuberant of the group, continued to look at him with that friendly smile as she bobbed a curtsy, not waiting for Clara to introduce her. ‘I’m Mrs Sommersby’s youngest niece, Lady Montague Pearce. But you may call me Lady Juliet.’
‘He can probably tell you are the youngest,’ the Duchess called out. ‘There is no need to announce it.’
Lady Juliet turned to her sister with a teasing grin. ‘You are just jealous you cannot use that title as well.’
‘I’d rather the one I have.’
‘We know,’ Lady Charlotte and Lady Juliet said in unison.
‘Girls, this is my friend, Mr William Lane’ There was an affectionate glow about her when she said it that spread warmth throughout his chest.
Lady Juliet was keeping her eyes on him as Humphrey continued to shower him with wet kisses all over his chin.
‘We should go inside and have tea,’ Clara said. ‘Are your husbands with you?’
‘No,’ Lady Charlotte said, taking Clara’s hand and giving it a pat. ‘We have left them at home as we decided we wanted to spend time with you like we used to.’
The Duchess began walking through the opening of the black wrought-iron gates that led to Clara’s front door and lifted the skirt of her purple gown to take the step. ‘You always have the best tea. It’s just what I need after that ride.’
He put Humphrey down and was just about to shoo him into the house and take his leave to return back to the coffee house when Lady Juliet called out, ‘Isn’t Mr Lane going to join us?’
‘Oh, please do, Mr Lane,’ Lady Charlotte added. ‘We did not mean to impose on your visit with our aunt.’
To hear Lady Charlotte refer to Clara as her aunt was strange to his ears. He didn’t think of Clara as anyone’s aunt. He didn’t think of Clara as being related to anyone. ‘I’m sure you ladies have much to discuss. You don’t need a gentleman about.’
‘Nonsense. We will be here for a week. That is plenty of time for us to visit with our aunt.’
‘You are staying for the week?’ Clara said, her eyes widening as she looked between Lady Juliet and Lady Charlotte.
‘It has all been arranged.’
Lady Juliet looked pointedly at Clara and cleared her throat. ‘Don’t you think Mr Lane should come inside?’
‘Of course I do,’ Clara said, dropping her niece’s hands. ‘Won’t you join us for some tea?’
‘I should be off. I’ve been here long enough.’
‘Then perhaps Mr Lane can join us for dinner tonight?’ Her youngest niece was very eager for him to stay. There was no telling if that was good or bad.
‘Tonight I am having a musical recital here. Had I known the three of you were coming I would not have arranged it.’
‘Is Mr Lane attending?’
Lady Charlotte stared at her sister with wide eyes. ‘Juliet!’
‘Why don’t you girls go inside?’ Clara said, walking towards him as she scooped up Humphrey in her arms. ‘I will meet you in the drawing room.’
Behind Clara’s shoulder he could see Lady Charlotte pull Lady Juliet into the house.
‘Do not feel obligated to extend an invitation to me. My skin is thicker than that.’
‘No. I would like you to come. It’s just...’ She averted her gaze. ‘I’ve invited the Collingswoods and Mr Greeley as well, you see. And the Dowager.’
‘I see. And does Greeley know that he is to be ambushed when he arrives?’
‘I have left it up to Eleanor to break the news to him.’
‘I see.’
She tilted her head and offered him a rueful smile. ‘Mr Greeley might appreciate having you there.’
‘Mr Greeley would?’
She stepped closer to him. ‘And I would. I am sorry that our afternoon has had to end so quickly. I had hoped we would have been able to return to the drawing room.’
‘And what did you hope we would do in there?’
A flicker of passion flashed in her eyes. ‘I’m sure we could have thought of something.’
‘I’m sure we could have.’
‘Then you will come back later? It begins at seven.’
‘Very well...for Greeley I will return.’
The look of joy on her face just from finding out that she would see him later gave him an odd full feeling in his chest. It was an unexpected reaction and one he contemplated on his long walk back to the coffee house.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Never before had Clara been disappointed to see her nieces. However, once the excitement of knowing that they were back in her home after all this time had subsided, she found she was sad that her day with Lane had been interrupted. She was beginning to realise that he would be leaving Bath soon and that she did not have an infinite amount of time with him.
A deep sense of melancholy washed over her. Her nieces were here—however, part of her wished they had not come. A twinge of guilt hit her as she entered her home and placed Humphrey down on the floor. He scampered off, probably to take a nap, and she notified Darby that she would be serving tea to her nieces.
Walking up the stairs, she recalled the times she had spent in this house with Charlotte, Lizzy, and Juliet. She had no children of her own, but she couldn’t have loved these girls any more than if they were her own daughters. She recalled Charlotte running to her here when she received word that her husband had been killed at Waterloo. She could see herself sitting on these stairs, comforting Juliet when she brought her here after the girl’s heart had been broken in London. And she remembered the times she’d spent shopping and sharing much-needed laughter with Lizzy when the Duchess would find refuge here from her loveless marriage. There were countless other moments as well. Getting ready for balls. Taking turns reading novels to each other. Chatting endlessly over pots of tea and needlework. Having them here knowing Lane might be leaving soon should be a blessing. H
er heart should feel comforted. So why was it aching? She pinched her cheeks and pasted on a smile before taking a deep breath and walking into the room.
‘Tell us about Mr Lane,’ Juliet said without any preamble the moment Clara crossed the threshold.
The urge to turn and walk out of the room was overwhelming.
‘Juliet, allow her to sit first before you pepper her with your questions.’ Charlotte always had been the most level-headed one of the three.
‘I am simply asking the question we all want an answer to. Your dog seems very taken with him. Where did you meet?’
Clara took a seat between Charlotte and Juliet on the sofa where an hour before Lane had kissed her. She hadn’t realised how much she liked this pink sofa with gold-painted accents until now. ‘We met in the Pump Room.’ She busied herself pushing out the wrinkles from her gown. She didn’t want to talk about Lane. Their relationship was too complicated.
‘Did you bring the baby?’ she asked Charlotte.
‘Yes, he is asleep in my room. My maid is watching over him should he wake. I think the ride tired him out.’
‘And did you all ride here together in Lizzy’s carriage?’
Lizzy sat back in her chair across from them. ‘No, Charlotte and Juliet arrived in Charlotte’s. I followed them in mine.’
‘What Lizzy is not saying is that there wasn’t enough room for all of us to travel together in her carriage, so I took mine as well. She has too many trunks with her. I honestly don’t know how she travelled to Sicily without the ship sinking from the weight of her luggage.’
‘I managed to travel lighter than you would believe.’
‘And yet here you are at Aunt Clara’s for a week with enough luggage to stay for three months.’
‘I like to be prepared.’
Juliet was uncharacteristically quiet. Of all her nieces, Clara had spent the most time with Juliet. The girl had lived with her for years here before her recent marriage. Juliet knew her very well. If she needed to fool anyone that she was happy at this moment, it would be Juliet.
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