Page 58 of Appointment in Bath

“That may prove difficult,” Meg said.

“Now that I’m not pleased to hear,” Ivo said. “I don’t want you to be on your own. Not at this time of year. It’s inhuman.”

“It’s what I’m used to. One c-can get used to practically anything, I find.”

“How extraordinarily depressing.”

“I d-don’t think so.”

“Poor little thing,” he teased. “You don’t know any better.”

Her lips quivered with unwilling humor. “I’m n-neither poor, nor little.”

“Littler than me, my girl. I have a mind to spirit you away somewhere more cheerful. Bath perhaps.” He flashed her a roguish smile. “What do you say to that? We could visit the confectioner and dine on marzipan and iced ginger cakes.”

She smiled in return, beguiled by the fantasy. “I could visit Miss Adams.”

“Quite right. If we’re going to dream, why hold ourselves back?”

Her smile dimmed a little. “It is a lovely dream. But only a d-dream, isn’t it? We’re not likely to see Bath together.”

Ivo didn’t answer. Not directly. He didn’t want to make her any promises. He was certainly in no position to do so. “When the railway comes, a journey to Bath will be no more trouble than a carriage drive to Taunton. Everyone will see it then.”

She briefly turned away from him. “I pray the railway will c-come soon.”

“So do I. Until then, we must think of another way to keep you from being alone at Christmas.”

“Oh b-but I won’t be.” Her smile returned, a tad cautious, as though in contemplation of an event of decidedly mixed happiness. “My father isn’t in a m-merry mood, to be sure, but he has promised to spend m-more time with me.”

Ivo pulled a face. “I don’t know if that’s better or worse than a solitary holiday.”

“Better, I hope. Though…n-not wholly comfortable, I expect.”

They both laughed.

Letchford Hall loomed in the distance—a sprawling baroque monstrosity made of red brick. It was the closest Ivo had ridden to the place in an age. It was just as imposing and isolated as he remembered from his boyhood. An ogre’s castle. That’s how he’d thought of it. A place one avoided at all costs.

“I should go the rest of the way alone,” Meg said.

Ivo reined in Snap. “Of course.”

“Thank you for accompanying me this far.”

“It was my pleasure. Will you…that is… I don’t expect I can get away again until after Christmas. Shall we promise to meet for a ride in January?”

Her brows notched. “You’re c-calling on my father then, are you not?”

“I plan to.”

“Then we may f-forego the ride.” She turned her mare toward home, kicking her into a trot. “It will be too c-cold anyway. I can’t keep taking Rowena out in this weather.”

“What do you suggest?” he asked as she rode off. And then, in vague desperation: “I must see you again!”

Meg glanced back at him over her shoulder, her beautiful face aglow. “You will. When you come to the Hall, I shall give you tea and cake!”

His face spread into a grin as she cantered away.

When she’d disappeared, Ivo turned Snap back toward the main road, still smiling like a besotted fool. Now he was alone, there was no reason to skulk in the woods or creep along desolate moorland paths. There was no danger of anyone observing him with the daughter of his parents’ enemy. He trotted in plain view, back toward Beasley Park.