Page 55 of Appointment in Bath

Ivo glared at him across Snap’s withers. “Like who for example?”

Jack shrugged. “I’m not so ungentlemanly as to name names, but…” His mouth quirked. “There are a few tradesmen’s daughters who are no better than they ought to be.”

“I’m not looking to marry anyone,” Ivo said.

“That’s a relief. It’s Kate who’s expected to make the first match. Then James, of course. Pity she’s unmarriable and he’s so blasted picky. By the time the pair of them come to the point with anyone, you and I will be past it.”

Ivo vaulted into his saddle. “Are you quite finished?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to race?”

“Another day, Jack. Now let me go.” Ivo didn’t wait for permission. He trotted out of the stable, exiting the yard through the low gate that led to the pasture. He prayed Jack wouldn’t follow him.

Tradesmen’s daughters? Good lord. During Ivo’s two years away, it appeared that his younger brother had become the village lothario. And here Ivo was worried about harming the family name by an association with a Burton-Smythe! God help Jack if he got a local girl in trouble.

A perilous wind nipped at Ivo’s face as he cantered toward Sefton Bridge. Though the snow hadn’t fully set in yet, the weather had grown colder with each passing day, frosting the brown hills with ice and freezing over the river. Soon winter would come in earnest, blanketing the whole of Somerset in white. But not yet. Not until after Christmas, Ivo suspected.

Arriving at the river, he rode along the path through the trees for nearly half an hour, both his breath and Snap’s gusting clouds of steam in the cold air, before Meg finally appeared.

She was riding toward the bridge, bundled up in her brown wool habit with the velvet collar. Absent her riding hat, her plaited red hair was left on full view to gleam in the winter sun.

His heart stopped to see her.

But she didn’t see him. Arriving at the water, she hopped off her mare and tied her loosely to a tree. Then, giving her skirts a shake, she made for the clapper bridge with single-minded intention.

What the devil?

Ivo was off Snap in a flash. “Meg!”

She jolted to a halt, one booted foot on the stones. Her eyes widened. “Ivo.”

He advanced on her. “You don’t mean to cross the bridge, do you?”

Her shoulders were set. “As you see.”

“What in God’s name for?”

“Because I can.” She climbed up onto the first granite plank.

“Wait!” He strode to join her. “If you must do it, let me help you.”

“I don’t require your help. I can do it on my own.” She kept walking. The frozen river glittered menacingly beneath her.

Ivo’s pulse skittered with alarm. He didn’t want to scare her, but if she slipped and fell—and she very well might given the slickness of the icy stones—she could come to genuine harm. “Meg—”

“Please stop talking,” she said. “You’re only distracting me.”

Ivo’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. She was being reckless. Careless. Anyone could have told her not to cross the bridge in this weather. One wrong move and she’d fall straight through the ice and end up trapped underneath it.

Good God! She’d been intending to cross the bridge before she’d known he was there! Had an accident happened, she’d have been all alone, left to the mercy of mother nature—who had no mercy at all in Ivo’s experience.

Her boot slid dangerously on the plank an instant before she reached the other side. Recovering her balance, she hopped down onto the opposite bank.

Ivo exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “You madwoman!”

She flashed him a roguish smile. Her cheeks had a beautiful cold-weather flush. “I’m halfway safe!” she called back. “And so is my soul!”

He laughed in spite of himself. “Can you make it back without assistance?”