Amelia was patting the sofa beside her. ‘How long do you plan to spend in Bath, Lord Renshaw? No doubt you will find our society sadly flat after London!’
‘I doubt it, ma’am,’ Guy murmured, casting another glance at Sarah. He took a seat beside his hostess. ‘I fear, however, that I am only here for a few days. I am but recently returned from the Peninsula and am anxious to see my family again. I shall be returning to Woodallan the day after tomorrow.’
‘Then you must come to my ball tomorrow night!’ Amelia gave him a ravishing smile. ‘It will be most apt for a returned hero, for I am celebrating the allied successes!’
They fell to discussing the Peninsular War and Sir Greville came across to Sarah and sat down next to her. She let herself be distracted by small talk. At least the arrival of the two men had had the effect of diverting Amelia’s attention from her proposed visit to Blanchland, but Sarah suspected that it was only a temporary respite. Amelia was known for her tenacity and if Sarah was really unlucky the topic of the roses might be raised as well. Sarah had managed to skate adroitly over the cause of her accident but she would not put it past Guy Renshaw to mention the whole story just to put her out of countenance.
A footman and maid arrived with refreshments and somehow, Sarah was not quite sure how, Sir Greville and Lord Renshaw exchanged places. It was done in the neatest and most unobtrusive manner, but Sarah did not miss the look of gratitude Sir Greville flashed his friend as he took his place by Amelia, and her opinion of Guy went up a little. She only hoped that the Viscount’s motives towards herself were as irreproachable.
‘May I join you?’ Guy was smiling at her, the smile that made her heart do a little flip despite herself. ‘I can assure you that it is quite safe—my preoccupation with arachnids and amphibians is a thing of the past!’ He leaned forward to help Sarah to a Bath biscuit. ‘I am most sincerely sorry for the spider on your chair—’
‘It was a toad on my chair,’ Sarah said severely, ‘and a spider in the schoolroom! I beg you not to regard it, Lord Renshaw. I do not believe that I sustained any lasting hurt!’
‘I am relieved to hear it,’ Guy murmured, ‘as I wish above all things to make a good impression upon you, Miss Sheridan!’
‘A little late for that, my lord, when you were so destructive to my roses!’ Sarah observed sweetly.
He lowered his voice. ‘Was your cousin very displeased? If only you had vouchsafed your name and direction, Miss Sheridan, I could have escorted you back here and apologised to her!’
Sarah knew he was trying provoke her by reminding her of the set-down she had given him. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she repressed it ruthlessly.
‘You know that that would scarcely have been appropriate, my lord! As for Amelia, she was a little dismayed. She is the dearest creature, but even she cannot concoct a red, white and blue flower arrangement without the red!’
‘Ah, I see. The patriotic theme?’
‘Precisely so!’ Despite herself, Sarah found that they were smiling together. Guy was sitting forward, his entire attention focused on her in a most flattering manner. It was very disconcerting.
‘I am so very sorry that I did not recognise you when we met earlier, Miss Sheridan,’ he said softly, ‘but how was I to know that the gawky schoolgirl I used to know had grown into such a beautiful woman? Such a transformation is enough to throw a fellow completely!’
Sarah felt a blush rising at the teasing note in his voice. There was admiration in the look he gave her; admiration and a more disturbing emotion. It seemed astonishing that she could be sitting here in Amelia’s drawing-room with a gentleman she had just met again for the first time in thirteen years, and be feeling this intoxicating and entirely improper stirring of the senses.
‘You are outrageous, sir!’ she said, to cover her confusion. ‘I believe you have not altered one whit!’
‘Oh, you must allow me a little improvement!’ Guy looked at her with mock-reproof. ‘At the very least, I am taller than when you last saw me!’
‘That was not at all what I meant! It seems to me that you were always given to the most excessive flattery! Why, I distinctly remember you practising your charms on my grandmother! She professed herself scandalised that one so young should be so adept at flirtation!’
‘Well, I’ll concede that I was ever inclined to practise on susceptible ladies!’ Guy said lazily. ‘You may find, however, that my scandalous behaviour has developed in other directions since then!’
Sarah was sure that he was correct and it seemed likely that the type of outrageous behaviour indulged in by a man of nine and twenty was infinitely more dangerous to her than that of a youth primarily obsessed with practical jokes.
‘I do not doubt it, sir! Pray do not furnish me with the details, it would not be at all proper!’
‘But then I am not at all proper,’ Guy said ruefully. ‘Though, to my regret, I believe you to be a very pattern-card of correctness, Miss Sheridan!’
‘So I should hope! Pray do not pursue this line of conversation, sir!’
‘Must I not?’ There was a look of limpid innocence on Guy’s face. ‘I was presuming that our previous acquaintance would allow a certain informality—’
‘Informality!’ Sarah realised that she had raised her voice when she caught Amelia’s look of curiosity. She hastily dropped her tone again. ‘You presume too much, my lord!’
Guy shrugged, gracefully conceding defeat. Sarah had the distinct impression that it would only be a temporary reversal. She cast around for a safe change of subject. Genteel Bath society had scarcely prepared her for dealing with so flagrant a flirtation. She plumped for something she hoped would be innocuous.
‘I understand that you had been abroad for some years, sir. Your family must be eager to see you after all this time.’
Guy took her lead courteously, though there was a flash of amusement in his eyes that told her he knew she was trying to deflect him.
‘Yes, indeed,’ he said agreeably. ‘I was serving with Wellesley in the Peninsula for four years and only returned because my father’s health has deteriorated and he needs my help at Woodallan.’
‘I am sorry to hear of the Earl’s ill health,’ Sarah said, concerned. ‘I hope that it is not too serious?’
For once the humour dropped away from Guy’s expression and he looked sombre. ‘I hope so, too, Miss Sheridan, but I fear the worst. It is very unlike him to admit that he needs my help, but he has intimated that he wishes me to take on more of the running of Woodallan and the other estates…’ He made an effort to try for a lighter note. ‘No doubt my mother will be glad to see me back—she has been cursing Bonaparte these four years past for prolonging the war!’
‘It is several years since I saw your parents, although your mother and I still write,’ Sarah said, with a smile. ‘She told me in her last letter that she had high hopes of your swift return. She is kind—she sent me a very sympathetic letter when my father died.’
She looked up, to see Guy watching her. For all his levity, those dark eyes were disconcertingly perceptive. ‘It must have been a difficult time for you,’ he said gently. ‘You must have been very young, no more than nineteen, I imagine? And then to lose your brother and your home in such quick succession…’
Sarah’s mind immediately flew to Blanchland again. It seemed strange that she had so completely forgotten about Frank’s letter during the past few minutes. She had lost a brother, but it appeared that she had gained a niece. What sort of a girl would Miss Olivia Meredith prove to be? Her letter had been very neat and proper,