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Giles paced alongside and, as the chair swayed, she watched him through the glass, trying to read his expression, grateful to be spared the need to talk, to touch him by taking his arm. Inexperienced though she might be, she was certain that kiss had been one of genuine desire, but it had also felt strangely safe. Was that because of their old friendship, or because Giles was a true gentleman? Or perhaps it was the difference between men and women. He could kiss without commitment, without necessarily wanting the person—only the caress.
So what do I want?
She understood now what she had overheard, all those years ago in the barn. She could accept it for what it was, although it felt deeply uncomfortable to realise that young men’s heads were so full of such shocking and uncontrolled fantasies. She could forgive Giles, she supposed she already had, but she wondered if she could forgive herself.
But how could I be expected to know about these things?
If Giles had told his father that it was all fantasy, surely the older man would have understood?
We are all to blame, she concluded gloomily. Giles should have reined in his temper and explained to our fathers. His father should have thought back to when he was his son’s age. My father and Godpapa Gordon should have stopped working themselves up into a rage over their daughters’ virtue and honour and allowed everyone to calm down...
It took only moments to reach Laura Place. Giles swept her inside, hatless, to be met in the hallway by Phoebe, who had obviously seen their arrival through the window and was considerably agitated.
‘Where is your bonnet, Laurel? What have you been doing to her, Lord Revesby?’
‘Lady Laurel had an encounter with unruly foliage in the labyrinth,’ Giles said, straight-faced. ‘The hat came off and was, unfortunately, trodden upon.’
‘Unruly foliage.’ Phoebe looked from one to the other and then, to Laurel’s amazement, giggled. ‘How very original. I have never heard it called that before, Lord Revesby. Good day and thank you so much for returning Laurel before she encountered any shrubbery in a state of actual riot.’
Giles’s mouth twitched appreciatively. ‘Good day, Lady Cary. Good day, Lady Laurel, and thank you for your company this morning.’
The two of them stood in the hallway as the door closed behind Giles. ‘Oh, dear, I should not have been so frivolous about that,’ Phoebe said, pink in the cheeks. ‘The man is just so charming and so good looking and when he says outrageous things with such a look in his eye... Did he, I mean, was he, er, forward in any way?’
‘Absolutely not,’ Laurel said as she crossed her fingers behind her back. ‘We have discussed what happened nine years ago, we understand each other very well and I think you might say that a peace treaty has been signed.’
Although not between me and my conscience.
‘I rather think that everyone involved should have taken a deep breath and counted to five hundred.’
She knew she was going to lose sleep over this, not least because she could see all too clearly that she had managed to make a martyr out of herself, ending up unmarried and miserable. She had done what she had thought was the right thing when she should have trusted Giles enough to ask for his side of the story first.
‘What will happen now?’ Phoebe asked, cutting into her self-flagellating thoughts.
‘I imagine Giles will go to the family’s country house. It does not seem that his father’s condition is as perilous as he was given to believe and I am sure that the Marquess would much rather that Giles was looking after the estate than kicking his heels waiting on him in Bath. He will probably go to London as well, re-establish his social life.’ Despite the kiss and his apparent forgiveness, he certainly would not want to see much more of her now. As far as Giles was concerned the past had been explained, forgiven and could now be put behind them.
‘I see.’ Phoebe seemed as downcast as Laurel felt. ‘Things will be less lively in Bath without Lord Revesby here. I am sure all my friends are agog with envy over us having the acquaintance of such a handsome and eligible gentleman. Oh, well.’ She gave herself a little shake. ‘We must not repine over the loss of one gentleman, I suppose. Come into the drawing room, Laurel, the post has arrived and there seem to be any number of invitations. We can sort through them before luncheon. I do hope nobody is expecting an introduction to Lord Revesby if he is leaving Bath.’
They sat and sifted through the correspondence. Laurel had, by some miracle, a letter from Jamie, sent from the Solent where he boasted of a lack of seasickness, told her a number of unintelligible things about navigation and the use of a sextant, whatever that was, and complained of a shortage of woollen stockings. She had sent him off with a dozen pairs, so goodness knew what he had done with those.
There were a number of invitations for them both, passed across by Phoebe, and Laurel began sorting them out by date. ‘This one looks most impressive.’ She held up a heavy gilt-edged card. ‘“The Duchess of Wilborough requests the pleasure of the company of Lady Laurel Knighton at a reception...” It is tomorrow night and the address is the Royal Crescent. Do you know the Duchess, Aunt Phoebe? And why am I invited and not you? It seems very short notice.’
‘I already have my invitation. Then it occurred to me to let her know you had arrived and so she has invited you. We were at school together when she was only obscure Miss Barrington with no important connections and some of the girls were top-lofty about it and looked down on her. But I liked her and we were friends and she has not forgotten that. I always receive invitations whenever she is in Bath.’
Phoebe’s smile held just a touch of smug self-satisfaction at the thought of her influential friend and Laurel thought she could hardly blame her. She felt quite excited herself at the thought of attending such a fashionable event. Her new life was here in Bath and amongst its society and thinking of that, living it, was what she should do in order to put her muddle of feelings over Giles into perspective. At least the misunderstanding was over, she had been forgiven, he seemed to understand. It was the best she could hope for.
* * *
‘What progress, eh? What does the chit have to say for herself?’
Giles closed the door behind him and took the seat opposite his father. ‘Good morning, sir. How is your foot today?’
‘Better, better. Never mind my confounded foot—what about Laurel Knighton? Still as plain and scrawny as she was as a child, poor girl? Still, can’t be helped if she is, you’ll have to make the best of it. All cats are grey once the bedchamber candles are snuffed out.’
Giles managed not to rise to the bait. ‘She has developed into a very handsome young lady, although she still has a sharp tongue and a temper. I danced with her at the Assembly Rooms the night before last and we managed not to come to blows in the middle of a set, although she made no bones about not being pleased to see me. The aunt, Lady Cary, seems to be offering me encouragement.’
‘You think so? Interesting.’ His father nodded. ‘Very interesting. The woman appeared to have the brain of a peahen on the occasions I met her, but I suspect she is sharp enough when it comes to marrying off young ladies. So what else have you done? One dance won’t fix her interest.’
‘I took her walking in Sydney Gardens yesterday. I explained my part in that fiasco nine years ago, she gave me the benefit of her thoughts on our past history—I may have bruises somewhere, although no actual bleeding wounds—and we parted on moderately good terms.’ If his father thought he was going to receive a blow-by-blow, or even a kiss-by-kiss account of this courtship he was much mistaken.
