Page 27 of Appointment in Bath

“I mean it. This time, I’m going to put my own interests first.” Ivo’s conscience twinged. “And I’m not going to feel guilty about it.”

Chapter Seven

Meg was in her bedroom, nestled in the cushioned window embrasure, working on a new sampler, when Mrs. Church appeared at the door.

“Miss Colfax to see you, miss,” the old housekeeper said.

Setting aside her sewing, Meg rose from her seat. She cast a dubious glance out the window. “In this weather?”

Rain streamed down the glass. It had been storming for the last two days. There had been no possibility of taking Rowena out. No possibility of seeing Mr. Beresford again.

Meg was both disappointed and a little relieved. She and Mr. Beresford had parted a trifle stiffly the last time they’d met. Perhaps he wouldn’t have wanted to see her again anyway. Not after she’d so stupidly insisted that her father had been in love with his mother.

She knew better now.

“She came in her father’s carriage,” Mrs. Church said. “Timothy is seeing to the horses.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ve put her in the drawing room. Shall I bring in the tea tray?”

“Yes please.” Meg straightened her plain wool gown and smoothed her hair before descending to the drawing room. It had rarely been in use since her father’s illness. The servants nevertheless lit the fires every morning in anticipation of Sir Frederick’s arrival. One never knew when he would take it into his head to limp downstairs and bellow his disapproval at the lack of readiness in the common rooms.

Miss Colfax was seated on the old-fashioned damask-upholstered sofa. She stood to greet Meg, the skirts of her modest silk gown swishing softly as she came forward.

The two young ladies curtsied to each other.

“Miss Burton-Smythe.” Miss Colfax’s milk-and-honey voice was as richly sweet when speaking as it was when she sang in church. “How do you do?”

“Miss C-Colfax.” Motioning for the vicar’s daughter to sit, Meg took a chair across from her. “What brings you here on such a day as this?”

Miss Colfax resumed her seat. “I come at my father’s bequest.” She smiled. “And for my own pleasure. For it is indeed always a pleasure to be in your company.”

Meg had no reason to doubt Miss Colfax’s sincerity. The vicar’s daughter wasn’t an unkind person. Quite the reverse. It was that very fact that often put Meg out of countenance. How could one ever hope to compare with such perfection?

“You are very good,” Meg said. “I’m grateful for the c-company, of course. Only, the weather is so dreadful.”

“Indeed. I have been obliged to cancel our classes today at the village school. The rain has made it impossible. Such a deluge! Mr. Pinnock says Mead Lane is in danger of flooding.”

Mrs. Church brought in the tea tray. It held a silver teapot, two porcelain cups, and a small plate of ginger biscuits. “Mrs. Stapleton’s baked them fresh this morning,” she said, placing the tray on the table in front of Meg. “There’s bread and butter as well.”

“How divine,” Miss Colfax said. “Please thank Mrs. Stapleton for her efforts.”

“I shall,” Mrs. Church answered. “Will that be all, miss?”

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Church,” Meg said. “I’ll ring if we n-need anything else.”

Mrs. Church bobbed a curtsy before withdrawing.

Meg poured out a cup of tea for Miss Colfax. “Do you take lemon?”

“Milk, thank you.”

Meg added a dash of milk before passing the cup to Miss Colfax. After Miss Colfax had taken it, Meg offered her a biscuit.

Miss Colfax selected one for herself. “You do know Mr. Pinnock? The owner of the Emporium?”

“A little.” Meg returned the plate of biscuits to the tray. “I’ve m-met him once or twice at his store.”

“He’s coming to dine at the Vicarage tomorrow. Mrs. Pinnock can’t accompany him, regrettably. She’s visiting her sister in Wales. The poor woman has taken ill with a brain fever. It’s that which has prompted me to call today.”

Meg gave Miss Colfax a bewildered look as she poured herself a cup of tea. “Mrs. Pinnock’s sister?”