by Diane Gaston
Miss Attwood strode over. ‘There you are, dear. Last I saw, you were at my side.’
‘I had a fancy to drink the waters, ma’am. And then I met my friends.’
No doubt Miss Attwood would tell her brother that she had been speaking with Lucien in a public place. Stonecroft had taken to warning her that people would talk if she and Lucien were too often seen together.
‘Well, we should go,’ Miss Attwood said. ‘Stonecroft sent me a message that he has some business to attend to. He will meet us back at the Crescent.’ She nodded to Lucien and Sir Richard. ‘Good day, gentlemen.’
Claire felt her anger kindle. Both Miss Attwood and her brother expected she do whatever they wished when they wished it. But, at this moment, defying Miss Attwood would serve no purpose and would only risk a scene.
Still, she wished for more time with Lucien.
‘Good day,’ she said, hoping her tone was not too resentful.
They started to walk towards the door when a man approached. The reporter, perhaps?
He broke into a smile and opened his arms. ‘My dear! I have found you at last!’
An inexplicable sense of dread engulfed her. Was this someone she should know?
He went on. ‘Ever since I learned you were in Bath I have frequented the Pump Room and other places hoping to locate you.’
She drew back. ‘I fear you mistake me for someone else, sir.’
‘No, it is you, I know that now!’ He gave her an entreating look. ‘Are you not happy to see me?’
He spoke with a hint of an Irish accent. Was he someone she knew in Ireland?
Her knees shook and she did not know what to do or say. She did not remember this man, but should she? Would this encounter expose what she’d hidden so successfully from all but a few, that her mind was disordered, that she had amnesia? How long before that on dit reached the newspapers?
* * *
Lucien saw the red-haired man approach Lady Rebecca. He watched her recoil and immediately strode over to her.
‘Do you need assistance, Lady Rebecca?’ he asked.
‘She is not Lady Rebecca,’ the man protested. ‘She is—’
Lady Rebecca broke in. ‘He has mistaken me for someone else. I tried to tell him he was wrong.’
‘He has been quite rude,’ added Miss Attwood. ‘Speaking to us without an introduction.’
Lucien placed himself between the man and the ladies. ‘Perhaps you should leave, sir.’
‘But I need to speak to her,’ the man argued, trying to move around him. ‘It is what I have come all this way to do.’
Lucien blocked his way and used his greater height to loom over the man. ‘You are distressing these ladies. You need to leave them. Now!’ He kept his voice low, but commanding.
The man backed up. ‘Very well.’ He bowed. ‘I see I cannot speak with you here, Lady Rebecca.’ He put a strange emphasis on her name.
He strode off.
Sir Richard joined them. ‘Are you all right, Miss Attwood?’
‘What a strange creature,’ she said.
While Sir Richard engaged Miss Attwood, Lucien stepped aside with Lady Rebecca. ‘He alarmed you.’
‘I was afraid he was someone I should remember,’ she whispered. ‘I did not want all of Bath society to know about—about—me.’
Lucien nodded. ‘I understand.’
She took a breath and pressed a hand to her chest. ‘I am relieved, though. He thought I was someone else. That was clear.’
Sir Richard interrupted. ‘I do not think these ladies should walk home alone, do you, Captain?’
‘No, he may be waiting for them outside.’ He looked at Lady Rebecca. ‘We will see you home safely.’
Sir Richard offered Miss Attwood his arm, leaving Lucien just where he wished to be. With Lady Rebecca. They left the Pump Room and started up Barton Street.
Lady Rebecca slowed her step so that they lagged enough behind Sir Richard and Miss Attwood that their conversation could be private. ‘Lucien, I had a memory.’
‘A memory?’ Perhaps this was the start.
‘In the Pump Room. Just a little while ago. I drank the waters and I distinctly remembered the smell and taste. I knew I’d tasted it before.’ Her voice was quiet but excited. ‘And then the memory came. I remembered laughing with other girls and I knew them. Or I had the sense that I knew them. It was very fleeting, but I remembered being in the Pump Room.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘I told you that you’d get your memory back.’
‘It is a little thing, though.’
‘You probably came to Bath as a schoolgirl,’ he said. ‘Makes sense if you were at a school in Bristol. It is not that far.’
‘I wonder if I would have more memories if I travelled to Bristol and found that school.’
It was on the tip of his tongue to offer to take her there, but he’d be delayed even longer from getting a ship.
Besides, Stonecroft should be taking her to Bristol and helping her regain her memory.
‘Where is Stonecroft today?’ he asked.
She waved her hand. ‘He was taking the waters. It helps his arthritic knees, he said.’
They walked without talking for a while and were quiet enough to hear Sir Richard regaling Miss Attwood with some tale. Lucien glanced around, making certain the man who’d bothered her was not in sight.
Lady Rebecca broke their silence. ‘That man alarmed me, Lucien.’
‘You must let me know if he bothers you again.’
She turned to him with a wan smile. ‘So you can rescue me once more?’
He ought to remain in Bath until he was certain that man would not distress her further.
‘When do you go to London?’ she asked.
‘Soon,’ he replied. ‘I should go soon.’
‘Will you let me know when you plan to leave?’ she asked. ‘I would like to say goodbye.’
‘I will.’
They reached Queen Square.
Miss Attwood turned around and called to Lady Rebecca, ‘Do not lag so! Come up here.’
They could no longer be alone. From then they said little to each other.
When they reached the door to Number Five Royal Crescent, Lucien faced her. She extended her hand and he clasped it. They held on for a moment longer than was needed to say goodbye.
‘Thank you again, Captain.’ He missed hearing her call him Lucien.
‘I am at your disposal.’ He released her hand.
The footman opened the door and the ladies went inside.
Sir Richard clapped Lucien on the shoulder. ‘I do not comprehend why you fail to simply tell that lady of your regard for her.’
‘It is very difficult to explain,’ Lucien said as they walked to the Circus.
He did have a great regard for her, he admitted to himself. He was concerned for her happiness, but knew it could not be achieved with him.
‘She is recovering her memory,’ he told his friend. ‘Being among people of her class may have been the catalyst. She will not want a mere captain when she remembers who she is.’
‘Falderal,’ Sir Richard said. ‘You overrate status and titles and such.’
‘Overrate them?’ Lucien shot back. ‘I despise what status and titles do to people. You’ve met them. They believe they deserve whatever they want merely because they want it. It is inconsequential what more humble people need. They think nothing of moving villages so the view from their estate is more picturesque. Or they ruin a life for a moment of pleasure—’ He stopped, realising he was ranting.
‘Might I remind you, boy, that I have a title?’ Sir Richard’s tone was kind.
‘That is another matter entirely,’ Lucien said defensively.
Sir Richard laughed.
As they reached the door to Sir Ri
chard’s house, Lucien said, ‘Yours is not a very elevated title, Sir Richard.’ He slanted his friend a glance and smiled.
Sir Richard clapped him on the back. ‘You are a hopeless prig.’
Sir Richard’s point was not lost on Lucien, though. Was it possible he put too much importance on titles and status? Sir Richard was the opposite of what Lucien abhorred. He was generous and accepting of all kinds of people from all walks of life. Was he merely a rare exception? Or was Lucien wrong to cut all aristocrats from the same cloth?
None of this mattered, though. Because Lucien wanted to be back at sea where he belonged. He missed the rhythm of navy life, the way every man mattered and everyone depended on each other. He missed the scent of the sea air and the rocking of the ship. He missed knowing his duty to his ship, his crew and his King.
All that afternoon Claire had flashes of the man who had approached her at the Pump Room. She did not know why he returned to her thoughts or why the instances were so fleeting that she could not hold on to them to make sense of it.
She told Ella about the man. And about Lucien once again coming to her aid.
‘You must watch out for that fellow,’ Ella said. ‘I have a premonition he will not be good for you.’
‘You have a premonition?’ This was the first Claire heard of Ella having premonitions.
‘I have premonitions, I do,’ insisted Ella. ‘My grandmother had the sight, too.’
Then Claire wished Ella could tell her when she would get her memory back and when she should make her break from Stonecroft.
* * *
Ella had helped Claire dress for dinner. There was a concert at the Upper Assembly Rooms this night so she wore yet another dress that the modiste in Bath had made for her, another dress chosen and approved by Miss Attwood.
It was pretty enough, a lilac satin with silver embroidery along the hem and neckline. Miss Attwood lent her amethyst earrings and a matching necklace.
When she entered the drawing room before dinner, Lord Stonecroft’s gaze swept over her as a man might look over a horse he wished to purchase.
He turned to his sister. ‘The dress is very fitting. You did well.’
His sister smiled. ‘Thank you. The modiste did wonders to work so quickly.’
Stonecroft never complimented Claire directly. He seemed determined not to do anything that would endear him to her.
Dinner was announced and they went to the dining room.
As they began the first course, Stonecroft said, ‘Honora tells me that you engaged with a strange man at the Pump Room today and nearly made a spectacle of yourself.’
Claire glanced at Miss Attwood before responding.
The woman’s brows knitted and Claire was fairly certain Lord Stonecroft was distorting what he’d been told.
‘Are you certain you understood what happened, sir?’ she finally said.
She thought she saw a guilty look flit across his face before his expression turned bland again. ‘Suppose you tell me what happened.’
‘A man came up to me and professed to know me, but I did not know him.’ That was the gist of it.
Stonecroft gave her a steady look. ‘You did not know him or you did not remember him?’
A wave of anxiety washed through her. He’d homed in on precisely what she’d feared. ‘I did not know him. He mistook me for someone else.’
‘I do not like this. Strange men speaking with you.’ He took a loud sip of his soup. ‘It does not look seemly.’
‘The contact was quite brief,’ she said, trying not to let her irritation show. ‘Captain Roper intervened and sent the man away.’
He pointed to her with his spoon. ‘That is another thing. You and Roper. You spoke privately together.’
‘In the Pump Room surrounded by everyone else who was there,’ she retorted.
‘And on the walk home?’ His brows rose.
She had spoken privately to Lucien. She lifted her chin. ‘Yes. I did engage in conversation with Captain Roper as he and Sir Richard escorted us home in case the stranger reappeared.’
The next course was served. The food at Stonecroft’s dinner table was bland in taste and unimaginative. Boiled fish, stewed chicken, boiled vegetables, small tarts for dessert.
That she observed that fact meant she must have eaten finer food elsewhere. Of course, the food on the fishing boat had been nearly the same every night and she’d found no fault in that.
‘Honora believes you spend entirely too much time with that Captain Roper,’ Stonecroft went on.
She glanced at Miss Attwood again. This time it seemed that had been what the woman had told her brother.
Claire straightened in her chair. ‘If I see Captain Roper at the Pump Room or at an Assembly or a concert, or on the street in Bath, I will speak to him. I will never snub him or avoid him. And you well know why, my lord.’
Because he had saved her life and was once her life and now deserved a life of his own.
* * *
Lucien was not in the habit of attending concerts. Concerts usually were more about the elite wanting to see and be seen. However, Sir Richard had learned from Miss Attwood that she, Stonecroft and Lady Rebecca would attend this night and Lucien was concerned that the stranger would be there, too, and would try again to approach her.
The tea room was set up for the concert, but the Octagon Room was filled as well, its tables filled with card players, another aristocratic pastime which Lucien disdained. Sir Richard joined some friends who sat near the middle of the room, but Lucien stood in the back where he could watch who entered and left.
Lord Stonecroft entered with Lady Rebecca on his arm and his sister following close behind. The Baron looked as arrogant as the other times Lucien had seen him. Miss Attwood greeted her friends with a tight smile. Lady Rebecca looked remote, as if her thoughts were anywhere but on the concert and the people attending.
She did not appear content and that worried him.
Stonecroft chose seats near the front of the room.
Lucien was reasonably certain they had not seen him. From Miss Attwood’s eagerness to separate them earlier, that was probably a good thing.
Gradually the seats filled and the din of the many voices sounded in his ears. Lucien scanned the crowd many times to be certain the stranger had not arrived unseen by him.
Soon the musicians entered and took their places. The soloist, a soprano, was introduced, and a tenor who’d been trained by Rauzzini, the Italian castrato who’d made much of his fortune singing in Bath.
The soloist sang the ‘Exsultate, jubilate’ which Mozart was supposed to have composed for Rauzzini—or so the introduction said.
The music and soloist’s voice were pleasant, but Lucien’s attention remained on the door. Finally he saw a man slip in. The stranger. He watched the man look through the crowd. He walked part way up the side of the room. Lucien knew the moment the man spotted her. He paused and his posture tensed. He smiled and returned to the back of the room. Lucien watched him from the opposite side. He would probably approach her during the intermission when refreshments would be served.
* * *
When the soloist finished and the applause ended, the audience stood and some left their seats, Stonecroft and Miss Attwood among them. Lady Rebecca remained where she was, sitting alone.
The stranger started to walk towards her. Lucien quickly crossed the room, intending to intercept him and escort him out. But the stranger spied him and turned back, mixing in with the crowd. Lucien could not reach him. He saw the man leave the room and he quickly followed. When he reached the door the man was already across the Octagon Room. By the time he made his way across that room, the stranger had quickened his step and was nearly at the other end of the ballroom. Lucien sprinted to catch up. Outside a cold drizzle darkened the streets. Lucien quickened his pace and caught the st
ranger by the collar.
‘Wait!’ he ordered. ‘I want to know who you are and what business you have with Lady Rebecca.’
The man squirmed under his grip. ‘Let me go!’
‘Answer me first.’
The man struggled. He and Lucien spun around as he tried to escape. Lucien’s injured shoulder ached with the strain of holding on to the man.
One of the Assembly Rooms attendants emerged from the building. ‘What goes here?’ he shouted.
The stranger cried, ‘He is trying to rob me!’
The attendant hurried towards them.
‘I am not robbing him,’ Lucien said.
‘Help me!’ the stranger wailed.
The attendant reached them.
Lucien said, ‘I want to question him.’
The attendant was close enough to see his face. ‘Captain Roper?’ He turned to the stranger. ‘This is Captain Roper. He is not a robber, sir. He is the Captain of the Foxfire. What is this?’
Lucien’s notoriety came to his assistance, apparently.
The stranger stopped struggling. ‘Very well. I will tell you. Make him let me go.’
Lucien loosened his grip, but did not release him. The man took advantage, though, and pushed against him, knocking Lucien off balance. The stranger wrenched away and fled down the street. Both the attendant and Lucien dashed after him, but he disappeared in the dark streets behind the Assembly Rooms.
Lucien uttered a low curse.
The attendant breathed hard. ‘What—who was he?’
‘That is what I wanted to discover.’ Lucien also needed to catch his breath. ‘I believed he means to do harm to a lady.’
‘Which lady?’ the man asked.
‘Lady Rebecca.’
‘Ah,’ the attendant said knowingly. He must have been aware of the connection between Lucien and Lady Rebecca.
They walked back to the Assembly Rooms.
When they reached the door, Lucien stopped him. ‘Let us not speak of this. I do not wish to alarm anyone unnecessarily.’
‘Very well, sir.’