‘I realise now how silly I was to let myself get soenamouredwith him, and Ihatedmy mother for separating us. But she was doing it for my own good, though at the time, I did not think so. But a year makes all the difference, and now I can see things more clearly. I could not seem to control myself when he was near me, and I did not much like that feeling. He and I are better kept at a distance. We were like shooting stars colliding. There was bound to be an explosion ... I was only lucky I did not get pregnant.’
I stood there in the pongy water, listening to her go on and on about star-crossed lovers, while I was still reelingfrom what she had said and getting angrier and angrier by the minute at Mr Hart’s deception.Oh, Lucinda,I thought.Why did you have to go and fall in love with such a rake?
‘Your niece seems much more sensible and much less inclined to let her passions run away with her,’ Ceci was saying, and I brought myself back to reality with an effort. ‘I am sure they will be happy together.’
Not if I have anything to do with it, I thought, bristling with indignation.He is not fit to be in the same room as her!
‘Thank you, Ceci, for clearing up my confusion about Mr Hart,’ I said politely, taking a step backwards. ‘I trust the rest of your stay in Bath will be a pleasant one.’
‘I hope I haven’t offended you, Felicity?’ she said worriedly. ‘Please do not worry. Your niece will be quite safe with Dory as long as her passions are not inflamed. It isIwho was the guilty party andIwho flung myself at him. He did not have a choice ...’
‘On the contrary’, I said stiffly, ‘there is always a choice, and Mr Hart chose poorly. I blame him entirely.’
‘Oh no, you should not!’ said the girl, sounding aggrieved. I was not sure why she had decided to blame herself for Mr Hart’s despicable behaviour, but I did not need to hear more. She saw it as him protecting her reputation, but it was obvious to me that he had deliberatelytwisted the events to his advantage and had meant to deceive Lucinda with a sob story.
‘Please excuse me, I must rejoin my party. Good day,’ I said, nodding to the girl, and dog-paddled away as quickly as I could through the greenish water whilst breathing in my lavender nosegay deeply. But the sweet scent did nothing to relax me or stop me from feeling wretched. What was I going to do now?
Chapter 10
The steam from the bath had obscured my private meeting with Cecilia, so the others had not detected who I was talking to and did not question me about it. This was both a blessing and a curse: I was left alone (whilst in the pool and on the solo chair ride home) to ponder the information, but I also had no one in which to confide my suspicions.
Everyone was in thrall to Mr Hart, so I could not simply blurt out what I had learned during luncheon. It would definitely cause Lucinda pain and put Cecilia’s reputation at risk. And I had stupidly said that I would not tell anyone, so it would put my good word at risk too.
Mr Hart had also done a good job of giving himself an alibi in the form of Mr Smith-Withers, so Cecilia’s story could be construed as a way of trapping him to marry her. It wasn’t uncommon for young girls to try such a thing if they had a rich eligible husband in their sights. Mr Hart could come out the whole thing smelling of roses and still ruin Lucinda.
No, there was only one thing for it: I had to be cleverer than that nefarious gentleman. If I gave him enough rope, hewould hang himself eventually. But first, I had to find the rope.
The opportunity to do so came sooner than expected, for when we arrived back, a letter from him stating his intention to call this afternoon was waiting for Lucinda. Along with another poem. She raced upstairs, clutching the epistle to her bosom, no doubt to add it to the growing stash. For he had written a couple of other poems for her of late: one about the flowers he could see from his window in Royal Crescent and another about how walking in inclement weather had made his boots wet. Both had been exclaimed over and complimented as being ‘clever’ and ‘witty’ and ‘original’ by everyone when he had asked for our opinion. I myself had said nothing, which had caused him to throw several curious glances my way. But thankfully, he had not pressed me to give my opinion. I should probably comment on this current poem so he would not suspect I had any qualms about him.
‘How lovely!’ commented Elizabeth, removing a hairpin from her bathing cap. ‘That will give Lucy something to look forward to this afternoon. I shall give her my rose water scent so she can spritz her skin before he arrives. Mr Hart will not want his bride-to-be smelling of rotten eggs!’
It was on the tip of my tongue to remark that perhaps she should not and that it would be a true test of Mr Hart’sintentions if he still wished to court Lucinda even if she stank. But it was not the time nor place, so I said nothing.
‘You have been very quiet since the baths. Is everything all right?’ asked Jane when we had changed back into our day dresses, availed ourselves of Elizabeth’s rose water scent, and were waiting in the drawing room for luncheon.
Oh, my eagle-eyed friend, if you only knew!
‘I am simply a little tired from our outing. The water was hot, and I feel somewhat drained.’
‘Yes, me too,’ Jane agreed. ‘I can see why Edward always has to have a nap afterwards. But at least we have Mr Hart calling this afternoon. He will liven things up!’
I nodded and smiled. ‘Ah, yes, that is true.’
‘Shall I read you a bit fromThe Monk? It is so atrocious it is funny.’
‘Very well, and I will attempt to start my letter to Max.’If I can determine what to tell him without outright lying ... Oh Lord.
Jane picked up her book and flipped to a page. ‘So in this bit, Ambrosio, the monk, is struggling with his lust for innocent Antonia and is justifying his actions.’ She cleared her throat and read in a dramatic tone,
‘Weak wretch! Was it for this that I renounced the world? Is this the result of eighteen years of mortification? Am I now to yield to a passion which I have despised for somany years?’ He paused, and then added in a lower voice, ‘But I am now to become a slave to a passion which is so natural, so excusable!’
Jane cackled. ‘Isn’t it rich? In the previous chapters, he was prattling on about how he was so pious.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘What a hypocrite.’
I raised a brow, noting that she had turned the corners of several other pages of the book. How many times had she read it?
‘You will be glad to get volume three, I suppose?’
‘Ooh yes, I have put my name on the waiting list.’
