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Startled, her eyes flew to his face, but swiftly sank again. Considerably shaken, she turned away, for there could be no mistaking the glow in his hard eyes: Mr Carleton, that noted profligate, had conceived a strange, unaccountable fancy for a maiden lady, of advanced years, who was no straw damsel, but a lady of the first consideration, and of unquestioned virtue. Her first thought, that he meant to fascinate her into accepting a carte blanche from him, occurred only to be dismissed: Mr Carleton might be a libertine, but he was not a fool. Perhaps he meant to get up a flirtation with her, by way of alleviating the boredom of Bath society. Hard on the heels of this thought came the realization that a flirtation with him would alleviate her own constantly growing boredom. He was so very different from any of her other flirts: in fact, she had never met anyone in the least like him.
Lucilla and Ninian were arguing about the several rides to be enjoyed outside Bath. They went into the back-drawing-room to consult the guide-book which Lucilla was almost positive she had left there. 'And if they find it,' remarked Miss Wychwood, 'they will instantly disagree on whether to go to see a Druidical monument, or a battlefield. I cannot conceive how anyone but a confirmed chucklehead could suppose that they were in the least degree suited to each other!'
'Iverley and Clara Amber are both chuckleheads,' replied Mr Carleton, dismissing them from further consideration. 'I hope you mean to join the riding-party?'
'Yes, very likely I shall. Not that I think it at all necessary to provide Lucilla with a chaperon when she goes out with Ninian!'
'No, but it is very necessary, I promise you, to provide me with a companion who won't bore me past endurance. I can think of few worse fates than to be obliged to ride bodkin between that pair of bickerers.'
Surprised, she said: 'Oh, are you going with them?'
'Not unless you go too.'
'For fear that you may have to listen to bickering?' she said, smiling a little. 'You won't! They don't quarrel when they go riding together, I'm told. Corisande Stinchcombe complained that they talked of nothing but horses, hounds, and hunting!'
'Even worse!' he said.
'You are not a hunting man, Mr Carleton?'
'On the contrary! But I do not indulge myself or bore my companions by describing the great runs I've had, the tosses I've taken, the clumsiness of one of my hunters – only saved from coming to grief over a regular rasper, be it understood, by my superior horsemanship! – or the sure-footedness of another. Such anecdotes are of no interest to anyone but the teller.'
'I am afraid that's true,' she acknowledged. 'But the impulse to boast of great runs and of clever horses is almost irresistible – even though one knows one is being listened to because the other person is only waiting for the chance to do some boasting on his own account! To which, of course, one is bound to listen, for the sake of common honesty! Don't you agree?'
'Yes: it is why I learned years ago to overcome that impulse. You yourself hunt, I believe?'
'I was used to, when I lived in the country, but I was obliged to give it up when I came to Bath,' she said, with a faint sigh.
'Why did you come to Bath?' he asked.
'Oh, for several good reasons!' she responded lightly.
'If you mean that for a set-down, Miss Wychwood, I should inform you that I am not so easily set down! What good reasons?'
She looked at him rather helplessly, but, after a moment, replied with a touch of asperity: 'They concern no one but myself, sir! And if you are aware that I did give you what I hoped would be a civil set-down for asking me an – an impertinent question, you will permit me to tell you that I consider you positively rag-mannered to pursue the subject!'
'Very likely, but that's no answer!'
'It's the only one I mean to give you!'
'Which leaves me to suppose that some murky secret lies in your past,' he said provocatively. 'I find that hard to believe. With another, and very different, female, I might assume that some scandal had driven you from your home – an unfortunate affaire with one of the local squires, for instance!'
She curled her lip at him, and said disdainfully: 'Curb your imagination, Mr Carleton! No murky secret lies behind me, and I have had no affaires, fortunate or otherwise!'
'I didn't think you had,' he murmured.
'This is a most improper conversation!' she said crossly.
'Yes, isn't it?' he agreed. 'Why did you come to live in Bath?'
'Oh, how persistent you are!' she exclaimed. 'I came to Bath because I wished to live a life of my own – not to dwindle into a mere aunt!'
'That I can well understand. But what the devil made you choose Bath, of all places?'
'I chose it because I have many friends here, and because it is within easy reach of Twynham Park.'
'Do you never regret it? Don't you find it cursed flat?'
She shrugged. 'Why, yes, sometimes I do, but so I should, I daresay, in any place where I resided all the year round.'
