‘I see…’ Jo felt sympathy for her. She realised how fortunate she had been in her parents, for Papa would never have behaved in such a fashion. He would have offered love and understanding, and forgiveness if it were necessary. ‘But what of your mama?’
‘Mama might forgive me,’ Ellen said, ‘but my father would not allow her to see me. I have wanted to write to her and tell her that I am well, but I am afraid that she might show him the letter.’
‘Surely she would not,’ Jo said. ‘Besides, you need not tell her that you are in Bath, Ellen. I am sure she worries about you, even if she dare not show it.’
‘Do you think so?’ Ellen looked wistful. ‘Perhaps I should write her a brief letter—as long as I do not tell her where I am, Father cannot come after me.’
‘It might be of comfort to her, and you,’ Jo said and on impulse kissed her cheek before leaving her to walk back to the house in Queen Square.
It was as she was nearing their lodgings that Jo saw a gentleman walking towards her. She could not mistake him, for he had immense presence and such an air of command.
‘We meet again,’ he said, a twinkle in his eyes. ‘This must be my fortunate day…’
Jo laughed—there was a distinct challenge in his eyes, and it made her feel ridiculously pleased with life. ‘I do not see why, sir, for I almost trod on your toes the last time.’
‘I would gladly suffer such torments a thousand times to have the pleasure of your company, sweet lady. I must call you that, for you have not yet given me your name.’
‘I think you are flirting with me, sir.’
‘Perhaps, a little.’ Hal grinned suddenly. ‘No, I should not tease you, but there is something about you that is most delightful to tease. However, I shall not delay you—I dare say you are supposed to be somewhere else.’
‘My aunt is waiting for me,’ Jo told him. She felt the desire to laugh as he looked at her so expectantly, and yet she did not give him her name. He was a wicked flirt and she would not be drawn by his teasing. ‘Excuse me, sir. Perhaps we shall meet again in company…’
He doffed his hat to her with a flourish, but made no attempt to prevent her going on. Jo smiled because he had lifted her spirits once more, lifting the slight cloud that had hung over her since she had learned of Ellen’s sad story.
As she entered the house, Jo saw that her aunt’s hat was on the sideboard in the hall and suddenly realised that it was past four. She had completely forgotten both the time, and, she realised guiltily, her aunt’s peppermint creams. All thought of them had flown as she talked to Ellen. She had not even visited the library, which she had particularly wanted to do.
‘Josephine!’ Lady Wainwright said coming out into the hall. ‘Where have you been all this time? I particularly asked you to be here for tea. Mrs Marsham brought her daughter, Chloe, to meet you, and she was most offended that you had not bothered to be here.’
‘I am sorry, Aunt,’ Jo said. ‘I met someone and stayed talking to her. She was a little unwell and I walked home with her. Forgive me.’
‘Who was this person? Respectable, I hope?’
‘Oh, yes, Aunt, very respectable,’ Jo said. ‘Mrs Ellen Beverley.’
‘I have not heard the name. One of the Hampshire family, I dare say. Well, you may introduce her to me and I shall decide if she is a fit person for my niece to know.’
‘Yes, Aunt, certainly,’ Jo said, though she had no intention of it. ‘We are bound to meet one day, I dare say.’
Lady Wainwright’s brow clouded, for she suspected something, though she did not know what. Her niece looked too innocent to be true! ‘Did you buy my peppermint creams?’
‘They did not have any fresh ones,’ Jo lied, crossing her fingers behind her back. She did not like lying to her aunt, but had decided it was best in the circumstances. ‘I may get them tomorrow—they should have some in by then.’
‘Very well,’ Lady Wainwright said. ‘You had better go up and change, Josephine. We are going to the Assembly this evening, as you know. We shall meet Mrs Marsham and Chloe there. Now she is a very well-behaved young girl and exceptionally pretty. If she decides to take you up, you will move in her circles and may meet a gentleman of property. The Marshams are quite well to do, though they do not have a title—which is a pity because there is a son, I believe, of somewhere around your age. Though I dare say he is looking to marry a title to improve his chances.’
‘If he is my age, I imagine he will not look to marry for some years,’ Jo said. ‘Drew is several years older than Marianne—and Papa was five years older than Mama.’
Lady Wainwright sniffed. ‘Do not imagine that every woman marries for love, Josephine. Most make marriages of convenience, which is as it should be, for how else would they live? You must be prepared to accept something less than your sister. Marianne was very pretty—and her temper was good.’
‘And mine is not, of course,’ Jo said, for she could not deny that she was inclined to be hasty at times. ‘I am aware that I am not pretty, Aunt, but I do not mind. If I married, it would be to someone I liked and respected, because I agree with you that it is not always possible to find love.’
Her head high, Jo walked up the stairs and along the landing to her own room. Her aunt’s comments were hurtful, but she would not allow them to dampen her spirits. She had not been enjoying her visit until today, despite all the delights that Bath offered, but now she had a friend, and she was determined to meet Ellen as often as she could. Of her encounter with a rather bold gentleman, she would not allow herself to think for more than a minute or two. It had been amusing, of course, but she would probably never see him again.
‘May I introduce my niece, Miss Josephine Horne,’ Lady Wainwright said later that evening. ‘Josephine, make your curtsy to Mrs Marsham and Miss Chloe.’
Jo dipped respectfully to the older lady, who was dressed in a gown of dark green velvet and looked very handsome for her age. Her daughter, standing elegantly beside her, was stunningly beautiful, her hair a shining gold, her eyes deep blue and her mouth softly pink. She was dressed in white as most young girls were that evening, the skirt embroidered heavily with pearls and pink crystals, a pink ribbon holding her fan from her wrist, and a spray of pink roses in her hair, fastened by a pink velvet band. About her neck she wore a double strand of expensive pink pearls with a diamond clasp.
Jo was wearing white also, and her mother’s pearls. Her hair had been dressed back in a strict knot and she wore some white silk flowers in her hair. Had she known it, she made the perfect foil for Chloe’s pretty pink looks, her red hair escaping in little tendrils about her face. She was Chloe’s opposite: a wild gypsy, her expression a little mutinous whereas Chloe’s was demure, her eyes clouded with mystery whereas Chloe’s were open and innocent of guile.
‘I am sorry to have missed you this afternoon,’ Jo said. ‘I was not aware that we were to have guests for tea.’
‘Oh, it did not matter,’ Chloe said. ‘I am glad to meet you, Miss Horne, for it is nice to have lots of acquaintances, is it not?’
‘Yes, I dare say,’ Jo answered. ‘This is our first visit to the Assembly. I have met only a few friends of Lady Wainwright thus far—and please call me Jo, if you will.’
‘Oh, yes, that is so much better,’ Chloe said. ‘Shall we walk about a little together, Jo? Now that you are here I need not stay with Mama all the time and I want to see what is going on.’
‘Yes, why not?’ Jo said and the two girls walked away from the older ladies, gazing about the room with interest. It was a very large room and had only just begun to fill up. At one end there was another door, which led into what Chloe told her was the refreshment room, and another after that where