Читать книгу Mrs Sommersby’s Second Chance - Laurie Benson, Laurie Benson - Страница 13

‘Really, Humphrey, this is not the time or place for such behaviour.’

The feminine voice came through the thick shrubbery in the wooded area with views of the Royal Crescent that Lane found himself walking in almost an hour later. After living in London all his life, he felt more at home on cobblestones or on horseback than he did walking along a wooded path. But the wide promenade in front of the Crescent was so congested with finely dressed people of all ages that Lane grew weary of the slow pace of those walking in front of him as they strolled along under their parasols and in their beaver hats. Something told him that he was better off heading out into Barton Fields, the huge expanse of lawn opposite the long curved row of honey-coloured terraced stone residences that formed the Royal Crescent.

The air was fresher and cleaner here in Bath and being outside exerting oneself through a brisk walk felt invigorating. Because of that, when he reached the end of the field, Lane uncharacteristically decided to continue on to the wooded area beyond. And it was there that the voice of the unknown woman caught his attention. The tone she used to address her companion had him slowing down. What behaviour had this gentleman committed that warranted such exasperation?

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she continued. ‘You know that I am right.’

The privet hedgerow between them was about ten inches higher than his six-foot frame and too lush to peer through the leaves to the other side.

‘Honestly, I would have stayed at home if I knew this was your intention.’

The gentleman in question remained silent. Or, if he spoke, it was too low for Lane to hear. He stepped closer to the hedgerow and listened intently for any response. He heard a bit of rustling, like the sound of the fabric of a lady’s skirt being moved. Although he devoted his attention to business, Lane wasn’t a monk. He had lifted a skirt or two...or three or four, in his time. That was a sound that a man didn’t forget.

‘Oh, now you have me in a tangle. I do wish you would stop.’ The woman’s tone had shifted from that of exasperation to pleading.

It was in really bad form to listen to what was happening a few feet away from him. He should walk away. He should not be picturing the escapade those two were having in the woods—in the very public woods.

His thoughts flashed to an image of the woman from the Pump Room and how he had been picturing the two of them together yesterday—in the very public bath. At least his fantasy involved an empty building, after it had been closed for the day.

‘Humphrey, no! Don’t you do it. Humphrey!’

There was an urgency in her voice that gave him pause. Perhaps the silent Humphrey was manhandling her. Suppose she did not want him to lift her skirts here in a public garden. Lane’s right hand drew up into a tight fist.

‘Is everything all right?’ he called through the hedge. ‘Are you in need of assistance?’

The rustling stopped and there was a marked silence. The only sound now was the faint chirping of birds in a far-off tree.

‘Now do you see what you’ve done?’ Her voice dropped and, if he hadn’t been standing with his ear practically in the bush, he wouldn’t have heard it.

‘What am I to do about you?’ Her faint voice continued. ‘You are incorrigible. I should give a swat to that backside of yours.’

Lane’s brows rose. They were more of a daring couple than he had originally thought. Perhaps she wasn’t coming to any harm after all. Perhaps he should just go on his way and forget he had ever said anything. This would teach him to venture out into wooded areas. No one would be having these types of assignations in the middle of the day on public pavements. He turned to walk further down the path when the woman called out to him.

‘Sir, are you still there? I could use your assistance.’

What had the silent Humphrey done now? And did Lane really want to see? This was what he got for having no tolerance for brutes who thought they could exert their power over others.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Lane made his way around the hedgerow and stopped.

‘It’s you.’ It came out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop himself.

There, before him, was the woman from the Pump Room wearing a jonquil and white dress with a deep blue shawl draped over her right arm, her brown eyes widened with apparent surprise when she saw him. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘You said you needed assistance.’ He scanned the surroundings for the persistent Humphrey, but the man must have had the sense to leave before Lane made it around the hedge or he was hiding somewhere while he set his wardrobe to rights.

Apparently, this woman would probably think nothing of having a scandalous encounter in the public baths. And that thought only served to have him picturing her smooth skin glistening with the steaming bath water once more.

* * *

It was bad enough Clara was in the predicament she was in. Did she really need to be stuck like this in front of the handsome gentleman from the Pump Room?

Humphrey’s leash had got tangled in the privet hedge and, if that wasn’t annoying enough, when she went to try to untangle it the back of her dress had got caught on a branch as well. She had tried to release it, but that particular section of lace was at a point of her back that she couldn’t reach.

When the gentleman called out to her through the hedgerow, she hesitated at first to answer. A scoundrel could take advantage of her very precarious predicament. She could be robbed, or worse. Hoping that if he tried anything, her small puppy would bite his ankles and scare him off, she accepted his invitation of assistance. Only now her puppy had disappeared into the hedge and the possible scoundrel turned out to be the man the Dowager wanted her to introduce to her neighbour.

‘How can I help?’ he asked, tilting his head a bit as he looked at her with a furrowed brow.

‘I’m stuck.’

‘Pardon?’

‘On the hedge.’ She motioned to her back with her gloved hand. ‘The lace on my dress is caught on a branch and I can’t move. Would you be so kind as to release me?’

He glanced around the small wooded area she was in and even appeared to peer over a few of the lower hedges as he made his way closer to her. When he stood a few feet away, the faintest scent of his cologne drifted across her nose as it travelled on the soft breeze.

Clara was petite in stature and had to look up at him as he stood less than two feet from her. Facing him, without the busyness of the Pump Room, she was able to get a better look at him. His firm and sensual lips rose a fraction in the right corner, softening the angles of his square jaw. Although he was clean shaven, there was a hint of stubble on that jaw and on his cheeks. She appreciated impeccably groomed men so it was surprising that she had the urge to brush her fingers against his skin to see what that stubble felt like.

He leaned over her and her breath caught as his lips drew closer to her eyelids. His finely made arms, defined through the linen of his blue coat, came around hers. He could have easily stood to the side of her to free the bit of fabric, but being surrounded by all his quiet masculine presence, she was glad he had decided not to.

‘You truly have got yourself caught.’

He looked down at her and flecks of gold were visible in his blue eyes. ‘I know I haven’t spent much time in your presence, however, this is the quietest I think I have seen you,’ he said with a slight smile.

‘I don’t want to distract you.’

‘You already have.’

She lifted her chin and now their mouths were a few inches apart. The warm air of his breath brushed across her lips. The last time she had kissed a man was ten years ago. And even then, she couldn’t ever recall her pulse beating like this at the thought of kissing her husband.

Just a few more inches and their lips would be touching. Just a few more inches and she would wrap her arms around his neck and let herself sink into his embrace.

His arms tightened around hers and she felt the tugging of the back of her dress. ‘I think I have it,’ he said, his breath caressing her lips.

So close, their lips were so close.

A loud yapping broke the moment and the gentleman she was thinking of kissing reeled back and it was then that she realised she was free. Free of the shrub and the spell that had been cast over her. Free of desires that left her forgetting where she was or the fact that she didn’t know who she was with.

She was a respectable widow and respectable women did not go around kissing gentlemen behind some shrubbery in a public park.

Humphrey’s small black and brown body was hidden within the bottom branches of the thick hedge beside her, but his little black head and brown ears were visible. He continued to bark at the gentleman who had come to her aid.

‘Where did you come from?’ He looked between the small dog and Clara. ‘You might want to step away. It doesn’t appear very friendly.’

‘It’s fine. He’s fine. He belongs to me.’ She looked down at Humphrey. ‘Now hush. The nice gentleman was helping me,’ she said to the creature who was responsible for this awkward encounter.

‘I don’t think he likes me.’

‘He just wants to get out from under the bush.’

The gentleman lowered himself to the heels of his top boots. The muscles of his thighs flexed in his cream-coloured breeches when his coat parted with his movement. He held his gloved hand out to Humphrey, but didn’t say a word, giving the dog the opportunity to sniff him.

‘He won’t go to you. He’s stuck in the bushes.’

‘He’s stuck, too?’

Clara held up the loop of Humphrey’s leash that was wrapped around her wrist, giving a slight tug to the bit of the red cord that was free of the tangled mess for him to see. Humphrey let out a series of barks as if he was trying to explain to the gentleman how it happened.

‘First your dress and now your dog’s leash? You two are quite a pair.’

‘If we are being precise, it was his leash first and then my dress.’

Lane stood up and strode towards her. ‘Can you untangle it?’

‘I had been trying to when my dress got caught. I wasn’t having much luck.’

‘Let me see if I can help.’ He squatted just out of Humphrey’s reach and then held out his hand to the puppy. ‘What have you done to yourself, little one?’

Instead of sniffing the gentleman’s hand, Humphrey appeared to try to explain how it had happened before lowering his head to his paws.

‘I see. Well, let’s free you from this mess so you and your mistress do not have to spend the night here.’ Humphrey looked up at him as he traced the red cord from the dog’s collar into the hedge and moved some of the branches around to study the tangled mess. ‘How did he do this?’ he asked, his attention still focused on untangling the cord.

‘I’m not sure. He was chasing a butterfly and the next thing I knew I was pulled practically into the bush.’

‘Your leash is too long. You need a shorter one.’ He motioned for her to hand him her end and then he worked it through the branches.

Not wanting to inadvertently get caught in the bushes again, Clara adjusted her blue shawl around her shoulders. ‘Do you think you will be able to free him or should we just untie the leash from his collar?’

‘I think I’ve got it. Just a few more twists... There, he is free.’

He handed her the end of the leash just as Humphrey let out a few barks before charging the gentleman’s leg and resting his paws on his knee. He was rewarded with some scratching behind his ears and Humphrey whipped his head around and licked the man’s hand.

‘No more chasing butterflies for you, young man.’

Humphrey gave an excited bark as if to say he agreed the adventure had not been worth it.

Clara took a step closer to them and prayed Humphrey would not embarrass her with more of his inappropriate displays. ‘Thank you very much for your assistance. I’m not sure what we would have done if you had not come along.’

‘Well, I’m just glad I did.’ He moved his hands to scratch Humphrey’s neck and the little dog wagged his tail.

‘Humphrey loves having his neck scratched. If you keep doing that, he won’t allow you to get up.’

He looked up at her. ‘Humphrey? This is Humphrey?’

‘That’s his name,’ she said, nodding.

‘Well, it’s nice to meet you, Humphrey.’ He held out his hand to the dog, with his palm up. ‘Can you shake?’

Humphrey barked and licked his hand.

‘Come now, gentlemen shake when they meet. Give me your paw.’

Humphrey barked again.

‘He doesn’t understand what you’re asking.’

‘Then we will teach him.’ He tapped Humphrey’s right paw. ‘Paw.’ He held his hand out to Humphrey. ‘Give me your paw.’

Once more Humphrey barked and a few more times the gentlemen tapped his paw and repeated the word.

Each time, Humphrey barked. But the last time when the gentleman held out his hand and requested his paw, Humphrey placed it in his hand. He closed his fingers around the little paw and gave it a small shake, while he scratched Humphrey’s neck with his other hand. The dog let out a series of happy sounds as if he was letting him know how proud he was that he learned a new trick. Then he looked at Clara with his big brown eyes and let out another bark.

‘Yes, I see. You’ve learned something new.’ She took a step closer as the gentleman gave one last pat to Humphrey’s head before standing up.

‘You seem quite at ease with him. Do you have a dog of your own?’

‘Not any longer. I did for a while a long time ago. I travel too much now.’

‘Travelling a lot sounds like an adventurous life.’

‘I suppose some people may see it as such. Most times the travelling is rather tedious.’

‘I’m surprised to see you here. This small stretch is not typically frequented by visitors. They normally enjoy promenading up by the Crescent.’

‘Crawling might be a better word. They were moving much too slowly for my liking.’ He took a step closer.

‘Moving at a sedate pace can be enjoyable when you find your companions entertaining.’

His eyes held hers for a few heartbeats before he looked around for Humphrey. ‘But when you are alone and have some place to be, walking behind people being entertained is irritating.’

The candid statement was made with such a gruff delivery it almost made her laugh. ‘I imagine it would be. So where did you need to be?’

‘Today?’

She nodded and waited for him to respond.

‘Nowhere...exactly. But that doesn’t mean it was any less bothersome.’

A small laugh crept out before she could hold it back. ‘So, you came here to avoid the people out there enjoying themselves.’

His brows drew together and he crossed his arms. Standing tall with his legs apart, he appeared to be preparing for battle. ‘You seem to enjoy having fun at my expense.’

‘I am not having fun at your expense. But you must admit you take the most benign things quite seriously.’

‘I do not.’

‘You do. I have lived most of my life in this town and not once have I witnessed anyone inspect the water as carefully as you did yesterday. And today you couldn’t even enjoy a walk along the Crescent.’

‘That does not mean I have a serious disposition.’

She crossed her arms in return. ‘How would your friends describe you?’

‘That is neither here nor there.’

‘That tells me that you know they would not be describing you as jovial.’

‘I should have left you in the bushes.’

The off-the-cuff comment didn’t insult her, but made her laugh instead. ‘So perhaps you aren’t so serious all the time. What have you found enjoyable while you’ve been here in Bath?’

‘I have yet to have the opportunity to see much of the town.’

‘How long have you been here?’

‘Eight days.’

‘Eight days and you haven’t seen much of Bath? What have you been doing all this time?’

‘I’m here on business and haven’t really got out much.’

‘Apparently. I think we need to remedy that. It might help with that disposition of yours.’

‘And what do you think I’d find enjoyable here?’

My company is enjoyable, she wanted to say. ‘I suppose it depends on what you like. Perhaps it would be better to ask what kinds of activities you find enjoyable.’

He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.

It seemed he was not going to make suggesting what he should do an easy endeavour. ‘Well, one can assume you do not enjoy long strolls.’

‘No. That is not true. I do enjoy a brisk walk. It helps me clear my thoughts.’

‘Then we will put brisk walking on the list. Perhaps you would enjoy visiting the Lower Assembly Rooms. They are near the bowling green and close to some lovely walks that are laid out by the river. If you time it just right, you might be able to walk the pathways before the crowds descend. And the public breakfast that is served there every Wednesday is quite good.’

‘That’s a much too leisurely way to spend my days.’

‘Well, you could always attend the dress and fancy balls in the evenings in the Upper Assembly Rooms. I prefer the dress balls, myself. And there are cards rooms at those if you do not dance.’

‘What makes you think I do not know how to dance?’

‘Forgive me. I meant if you were not inclined to dance.’

‘I find balls rather tedious. Too much talking about the weather and the state of the roads.’

‘Of course. Who would want to speak to all those people enjoying each other’s company?’

His lips pressed together which made her laugh again.

‘Then perhaps you would prefer a concert or the theatre. Bath has a vast array of ways to entertain yourself while you are here. Your wife might enjoy those activities.’ She waited to see if he would confirm that he was married. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might be until now.

‘Was that your way of finding out if I am married?’

She was not one to hide her inquisitive nature so she smiled up at him. ‘Are you?’

Instead of appearing affronted by her question, the hint of a small smile played on his lips. ‘No. I am not.’

‘Neither am I.’ Clara held back a groan. Why, oh, why had she offered that bit of information? It wasn’t as if he had bothered to ask her.

‘I know. I assumed from the Pump Room that you are widowed. I’m sorry for your loss.’

‘Thank you, but my husband passed a long time ago.’

The small creases at the corners of his eyes deepened as they looked at one another.

Humphrey’s head nudged her ankle, drawing her attention down to her dog. When she saw him eyeing the gentleman’s boot with that expression she had come to know, a sense of dread filled her chest. She held tight to his leash and tugged him back, closer to her.

Humphrey let out a series of barks in protest.

‘I really should be taking him home. He is probably hungry.’

‘Would you like me to escort you back from where you came?’

‘No, thank you. That won’t be necessary. I don’t have far to go.’ Humphrey pulled on the leash in the direction of the gentleman, making their departure all the more urgent. ‘I do hope you’ll take my suggestions. It would be a pity if you spent your time here without enjoying some of what this town has to offer.’

His eyes seemed to darken momentarily. ‘I’ll consider your suggestions.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’

There was something about being around this gentleman that made it hard not to smile. She was just glad this time she did so only after she had turned to walk away.

‘Wait. I do not even know your name,’ he called after her.

Clara pulled back on Humphrey’s leash and turned around. ‘Mrs Clara Sommersby. And you are...?’

He tipped his head and held the brim of his hat. ‘Mr William Lane.’ A smile softened the hard planes of his features.

There was no reason to hide her smile now as she bobbed a curtsy. ‘Good day, Mr Lane. Perhaps we shall meet again.’

* * *

It had taken all of Lane’s restraint not to follow Mrs Sommersby out from behind the hedgerow in their secluded spot in the park. As it were, he watched her slowly walk away from him with her small dog trotting along beside her until she reached the end of the hedge where the dirt path they were on merged with the gravel pathway that would take her out of the park.

There was something about being around her that had him wanting to talk with her some more and not rush back to the coffee house as he had originally intended. But now, running back to the coffee house was the furthest thing from his mind as he wondered if she walked her dog here often. When he reached the edge of the wooded park, he looked left and right, trying to catch sight of her, but to no avail. She was nowhere to be found. Digging his hands into his pockets, he resumed his walk. This time he didn’t mind the slow pace, since, instead of focusing on reaching his destination, his mind was filled with thoughts of Mrs Sommersby. And the fact that for those few moments she was stuck to the bush, more than anything, he had wanted to kiss her.