Glory gaped in astonishment, but she could read nothing in the duke’s expression. Was he telling the truth? If so, she had misjudged him, yet she could not cast aside her suspicions so easily. There was something about the man that just didn’t ring true …
‘Ah, the famous waters,’ the duchess said in a tone of delight. She went on to praise Queen’s Well, reminiscing about her visit many years ago, in such a manner that could only be deemed genuine. Gradually, Glory’s wariness receded over the course of the meal. She enjoyed hearing about the spa’s past success, for she had little first-hand information about those days. Even Phillida and Thad appeared impressed by the dowager’s enthusiasm.
But not the duke. Yet, even in his silence, he seemed to command Glory’s attention, a dark presence at the head of the table that drew her fleeting glances. And when he finally spoke, she was jolted by the sound, deep and low and seemingly intimate. Or had it simply sparked a memory of him leaning close and whispering in her ear …?
‘Why did you decide to resume operations?’
Although the question was a casual one, Glory sensed a deeper meaning behind the words. Yet she could see nothing untoward in his expression, handsome, vaguely attentive and distant. It was a polite query, nothing more.
Glory drew in a breath and wondered what on earth was happening to her. She had always been the one member of the family with common sense. It was not like her to envision Gothic scenarios or hidden mysteries, threats and dangers with no apparent substance. Stolid and determined, she was not one for fripperies or flirting. So why was her heart pounding so alarmingly?
Westfield.
When she realised that everyone was waiting expectantly for her reply, Glory forced a smile. ‘It is our family’s heritage and should not be allowed to languish when the well is still in good order.’
‘But don’t you think the time for such places has passed?’ the duke asked.
‘No, I think they will always be popular. Mineral springs have served as gathering spots probably since our earliest ancestors stumbled across them bubbling up from the ground,’ Glory said. ‘For a long time many wells were associated with saints and became the focus of pilgrimages for those who would be healed, with some people travelling great distances to partake of the waters.’
Over the years, Glory had done her research and she warmed to the history. ‘Later, when shrines were frowned upon, people still sought the therapeutic waters, along with the entertainments, music, dances, cards and the like, that were added so that visitors could enjoy the pleasures of society in a relaxed and healthful setting.’
‘There isn’t a lovelier setting than Philtwell,’ the duchess said, which made Phillida exclaim about the beauty of the area. Glory found her aunt’s speech so astonishing that she had to bite back a smile as she took a sip of wine. If the dowager could convince her aunt and brother they would be happy here, Glory was not about to argue.
‘But considering the current state of the village, what kind of patrons do you hope to attract?’ Westfield asked.
Although he didn’t elaborate, Glory assumed he envisioned only the most derelict and those who preyed upon them. She lifted her chin. ‘Queen’s Well has always served a fine clientele that has included royalty.’
‘Queen Elizabeth?’ Westfield asked, his tone wry.
‘Yes,’ Glory said. ‘In fact, the well was rediscovered by one of her courtiers.’
‘And has not changed much since.’
‘It has kept the appeal of a small site, of course, but there have been many developments through the centuries,’ Glory argued. ‘A new well and Pump Room were constructed, and Assembly Rooms and inns were added over the years, along with plantings and gravel walks. I’ve already had those cleared and the trees trimmed. I’m having some flowering bushes put in around the Pump Room, but eventually I hope to add new gardens.’
‘Excellent,’ the dowager said. ‘The spa needs plenty of tree-lined groves and secluded walks, where romance can flourish.’
Glory eyed the dowager with bemusement. ‘Perhaps, but I do not want to gain a reputation for that sort of thing, which has been the ruin of many a spa. Young women will not come to visit unless they feel completely safe from importuning adventurers … or any man, for that matter,’ she added, with a glance towards Westfield.
‘Or any one for that matter,’ he replied smoothly.
‘But Philtwell is above reproach,’ the duchess exclaimed. Unaware of any undercurrents between her son and her guests, she proceeded to assure a pale Phillida that the village was decidedly more secure than London.
‘But even if Philtwell is deemed the most bucolic and picturesque site in the country, it is too far out of the way to entice any except the most determined visitor,’ Westfield said.
Although Glory felt the duke’s gaze upon her as he waited for her reply, she refused to look at him. Perhaps he was not allied with Dr Tibold, but he certainly seemed to be against the re-opening of Queen’s Well.
‘Yet in the past the spa was successful, and now the roads are better and travel more common than in those days,’ Glory said. ‘And revivals have occurred before. Other spas have fallen into and out of favour again and again.’
‘Or opened, only to close,’ the duke said.
‘Don’t change her mind,’ his mother said. ‘I do so want to see the place as it should be.’
‘I am simply curious as to how she came to her decision,’ Westfield said. ‘The venture is a large undertaking, especially for a woman, an expensive proposition that may not repay in kind. What sort of investors have you secured?’
‘Don’t be rude, dear,’ the duchess admonished.
Thad looked as though he would speak, but Glory sent him a warning glance. Their finances weren’t anyone’s business, and she was not about to discuss them.
‘It is because I am a woman that you feel I am doomed to fail?’ Glory asked. Reaching for a fortifying sip of wine, she eyed Westfield directly.
‘Certainly not, for I am sure many females, including my own mother, are more than capable of astounding successes,’ he answered, his expression bland.
‘Very well put,’ the duchess said. She turned towards Glory. ‘And I’m sure all of us here, including Mr Pettit, wish for the triumph of what can only be an asset to the community.’
‘Thank you,’ Glory said, though she suspected Westfield did not share his mother’s sentiments. ‘I hope the spa will draw people for the simple reason that Philtwell is a lovely place to stay, with beautiful scenery and bracing air that is far more wholesome than the stench of London. If drinking or bathing in the waters proves beneficial, then that is all the better.’
‘There is a bathing pool?’ Westfield asked.
‘No, but we have private rooms for bathing on the upper floor of the Pump Room.’
‘And how soon can we look forward to seeing it all for ourselves?’ the duchess asked.
‘I can take you around at any time,’ Thad said. The offer took Glory by surprise, though it seemed to be directed to Westfield, rather than his mother.
Not to be outdone, Phillida tendered an invitation to the cottage, as well as a trip to the Pump Room, to ‘taste the waters’ on the morrow.
‘Delightful,’ the duchess exclaimed. ‘I am most anxious to see what you’ve done with it. And for the general public?’
‘Well, I had planned to wait until the old buildings had been torn down, but I’m afraid I’ve had some problems with the local workers,’ Glory said. Although earlier she had suspected Westfield’s involvement, that appeared unlikely now.