Chapter One
Three months later
“Do have a care, dear.” Leticia Caldecott’s anxious voice floated up to the top of the ladder, where Gigi was precariously balanced. “If you were to fall from that height?—”
“There is no need to fret, Miss Letty. I have everything in hand.”
Although Gigi spoke in reassuring tones, she wisely did not tempt fate by looking down at her friend. The ladder was rather high and rickety, and she needed to concentrate on her task. She was attempting to clean the walls of the spa’s bathing hall. Nearly a century ago, Letty’s great-great-grandpapa Tobias Caldecott had built the spa. A visit to Bath had shown him the pecuniary potential of water, and he had decided to create his own mecca in Chudleigh Bottoms.
The fact that no Roman had settled in Chuddums did not deter Mr. Caldecott’s entrepreneurial spirit. He believed that his property’s natural hot springs guaranteed success. He built a Romanesque temple around it, and what his design lacked in authenticity, it compensated for in flamboyance. Chudleigh Bottoms’s World Famous Roman Bath boasted more columns and statuary than Bath’s Temple at Aquae Sulis, and in its prime had attracted crowds who bathed in its pool and took the waters in its pump room.
Unfortunately, over the years, the spa’s fortunes had dwindled, and the place had fallen into disrepair. At present, the bathing pool was dry, cracked, and caked with dirt. Letty had drained it so that the stonemason could patch the basin. Behind the pool was a wall covered in a sprawling relief; Gigi was attempting to scrub off the grime that decades had layered onto the sculpted surface. Like the columns around the rectangular bath, the relief was fashioned from wood and plaster rather than expensive stone, and this made cleaning a delicate task. Yet the appearance of hygiene was essential for any business that promoted health, and she was determined to get every inch of the place spotless in readiness for its grand reopening.
As Gigi cleaned, she was getting her first close look at the top portion of the wall. From the ground level, the scene had looked like a typical rendering from Roman mythology. Venus and Mars presided over an idyllic wedding feast in the middle of a forest, with various gods and goddesses present at the banquet table. Cherubs and nymphs danced in celebration.
Upon closer inspection, however, Gigi noted the insidious presence of other guests in the background. Satyrs, horned creatures who were half-man, half-goat, lurked behind rocks and trees. They were lying in wait for the nubile nymphs, whom they chased throughout the scene. Sometimes the females escaped, swimming away in a stream. Other times, the satyrs captured them. Entangled limbs—one pair hairy, the other smooth—protruded from behind several bushes…
The memory of the Viking pounced upon Gigi. Although three months had passed since their encounter, he was a frequent visitor in her dreams. Night after night, he pursued her through the woods. The scenario ought to have been frightening, yet it wasn’t fear she felt as she raced through the forest. Or when he caught her, trapping her against a tree. Caged by his bulging arms and sculpted chest, she would stare up into his tempest-tossed eyes.
“I have you where I want you, sweetheart,” he’d growled. “This time, you’re going to do more than watch…”
“Are you certain this is necessary?”
Letty’s query broke the spell. Drawing a breath, Gigi shook off her wayward fantasies. She should count herself fortunate that she’d escaped with her virtue intact. For days afterward, she’d both dreaded and anticipated running into the stranger in the village. She hadn’t, and if he was a passing sailor like she suspected, she was unlikely to see him again…which was a good thing.
A young lady did not dally with strange seamen, and while Gigi did not strictly follow the rules of propriety, she was careful to maintain the appearance of doing so. Her family had enough troubles to contend with. Since her brother Owen had gone off to war a decade ago, nothing had been the same, and turmoil had besieged her close-knit family. She yearned to help, but since she was the youngest and a female, her parents and brothers insisted on protecting her. They wanted her to enjoy life, unburdened by its harsher realities.
She tried to be the good and proper girl her family deserved. Yet her energies needed an outlet, and during finishing school, she’d dedicated herself to worthy causes. Deciding to raise funds to help children who were forced to do dangerous factory jobs to survive, she’d sold corsages to family and friends. When she couldn’t make them fast enough to keep up with demand, she’d recruited peers to help. Eventually, she’d added embroidered handkerchiefs and other items to the group’s repertoire. By the time Gigi graduated, she’d organized an annual Charity Bazaar that funded dozens of scholarships for children to learn more desirable vocations.
These endeavors gave Gigi a sense of purpose, and she’d felt that way the first time she had set foot in Chuddums’s Roman Bath. She’d also had an inexplicable feeling that her future and that of the spa were somehow intertwined. By helping Letty and Chuddums, she might also be finding her own destiny.
“First impressions are important, Miss Letty,” she declared. “Now that the spa is gaining recognition for its waters, visitors will be chomping at the bit to visit the site itself. We must put our best foot forward.”
“Thanks to your idea for the ‘Chuddums Water Cure,’ the spa has been more successful in the past month than it has been in decades,” Letty said with gruff appreciation.
Gigi risked looking down and smiling at her friend. A handsome spinster in her fifties, Letty was tall and dignified, her angular figure clad in a practical bombazine dress. Her frizzy, greying hair was bound in a knot, drawing attention to her intelligent blue eyes.
“I didn’t come up with the idea for the water,” Gigi said modestly. “I borrowed it.”
She’d been inspired by her visits to Malvern. The bustling resort town had a dedicated following among the upper and middle classes, who flocked there to partake of the “hydrotherapy cure.” Local businesses flourished, and factories employed dozens of workers to bottle the famous Malvern water for export. Her Majesty the Queen famously refused to travel without a supply of her favorite mineral water.
“Whatever the case, you have given me hope,” Letty said. “For the first time in years, I believe I may be able to save this place after all.”
“You will,” Gigi promised. “The spa’s reopening will be a smashing success. And no one deserves that more than you.”
When Gigi had first seen the spinster in the village, the latter had been dressed in a raggedy frock and bonnet, humbly asking Loretta Pickleworth, the greengrocer’s wife, if there was any damaged produce available. The good Mrs. Pickleworth had promptly filled Letty’s sack, and Gigi saw her slip in a few perfect apples, too. Letty had made the rounds in the village, purchasing cut-rate goods from the merchants. She’d paused to peer wistfully into the window of the Leaning House, Chuddums’s tea shop, before continuing with her shoulders slumped but her head held high.
When Gigi asked about the mysterious woman, Mrs. Pettigrew, the owner of the Leaning House and the village’s kind-hearted gossip, had filled her in.
“Leticia Caldecott is the last surviving member of one of Chuddums’s oldest families,” Mrs. Pettigrew had said. “Miss Letty is a good woman who, through no fault of her own, fell upon hard times. If she sold the spa, her life might be easier, but she refuses to give up her family’s legacy.”
Gigi understood the importance of not giving up on one’s family. The Harrington motto was Ad Finem Fidelis—faithful to the end—and over the years, that adage had been tested time and again. Determined to help, Gigi had introduced herself to Letty, and despite their outward differences, friendship had blossomed. When Gigi had proposed working at the spa, Letty had been surprised but open to the idea.
Gigi’s parents, however, had been less keen.
“Gigi, darling.” Mama’s violet eyes—eyes she’d given to Gigi—had shone with concern. “A young lady of your station does not have a job. It simply isn’t done.”
“This is important,” Gigi had pleaded. “Miss Letty needs me.”
