The Earl's Practical Marriage. Louise Allen

a shallow and frivolous creature, for I have a full hand of excuses,’ she said, straightening her bonnet. ‘And the strongest is that this is quite the best way of judging the new company before one finds oneself on nodding terms with some vulgarian or a crashing bore.

      ‘Look at that woman, for example,’ she added with a discreet gesture towards a slender brunette accompanied by a maid and a young woman who might be her daughter. ‘I saw her yesterday and thought what style and elegance she has. But she treats her unfortunate maid as though the girl is a drudge, and a foolish one at that, however charming and caressing her manner is to her daughter and other ladies.’

      Laurel took an incautious gulp of water and almost spluttered it back out again. ‘This is disgusting,’ she whispered.

      ‘I know,’ Phoebe agreed. ‘But it does one so much good. Apparently it is full of the most wonderful minerals and salts. You should drink a glass a day.’

      The benefit she derived was probably from the exercise involved in walking to the Pump Room and back daily and the stimulation of seeing all the new arrivals, Laurel decided, but kept the thought to herself.

      Phoebe was still looking around the room, nodding greetings to old acquaintances. She gave Laurel a discreet nudge in the ribs. ‘Oh, my goodness, now there is a handsome creature just come in! And half the age of most of the gentlemen.’

      Ouch. Phoebe’s elbows were sharp. ‘Who? Where? Oh.’ Goodness, indeed. The man who had just strolled into the room was tall, blond, tanned, beautifully barbered and elegantly attired—and all too familiar, despite his changed appearance. Laurel could not decide whether her blood was rushing to her face in a blush or draining to her toes in embarrassed alarm. Or possibly simply overheating with a dismaying and inconvenient physical attraction.

      ‘Why, that is the gentleman I told you about, the one who showed me the way over the Downs when the tree had blocked the road. Only then he looked as though he could scarcely afford a decent coat, let alone a pair of boots like that,’ she managed. ‘And he has had his hair cut. Phoebe? What is it?’

      Her aunt was staring at the man as he came closer, her expression one of complete dismay. ‘The last person I would have expected to see in Bath... It must be him because, good heavens, he is the perfect image of his grandfather. I had no idea he was in the country. Of all the unfortunate things to have happened, I cannot believe you did not recognise him. Or perhaps not, if you had never met his grandfather because he has changed so much... With any luck he will not notice us.’

      ‘Phoebe, what are you talking about? That is not someone we know. Is it?’ The gentleman had seen them, she realised, and must have recognised her from yesterday. He began to make his way across the room towards them, this time with obvious intent. He kept his expression politely neutral, although as he came closer she saw a crease developing between his brows, so dark in contrast to his sun-bleached hair.

      Phoebe made an abrupt gesture with her hand as though to ward him off. ‘Oh, dear, I wonder what is the right thing to do—’

      ‘Madam.’ He arrived in front of them before she could finish and made a slight bow. ‘Forgive me for approaching you without an introduction, but I believe I had the honour of being of some slight assistance to this lady yesterday and wished to enquire if she is quite recovered from her journey.’

      ‘You are Lord Revesby,’ Phoebe said, peering up at him like a flustered little bantam hen, not at all sure whether to ruffle her feathers at this fox in her hen coop or simply fly away cackling in alarm. ‘But why did you not introduce yourself to my niece when you met her yesterday, instead of waiting until now?’

      ‘Yes, I am Revesby, but I fear you have the advantage of me, madam. I did not introduce myself as she was alone save for the presence of her maid and I did not think it appropriate to make myself known to her.’ He seemed puzzled by Phoebe’s question, but Laurel could only admire the way he kept his tone polite and any sign of irritation hidden. He obviously had breeding. ‘I could not introduce myself to a lady with whom I had merely a chance encounter on the road.’

      You could kiss her though.

      Then she realised what Phoebe had called him. ‘Revesby? You are Giles Redmond?’ No wonder that hint of familiarity had been teasing at her. This was Giles. Her friend. Her nemesis. So changed. All grown up.

      ‘Yes,’ he agreed, looking squarely at her for the first time. She saw the recognition dawn on him even as she felt the dizziness of shock take her. He had not recognised her, any more than she had him. ‘Laurel? You are Lady Laurel Knighton?’

      ‘I am. What are you doing here?’ She would not faint and she would not raise her voice, even if the man who had ruined her life was standing in front of her. Why had she not recognised him yesterday? Laurel made herself focus. Stupid question. This was a man, not a boy. A man who had grown into those ears and feet and the nose. A man who had lost the scrawniness of youth to muscle and bone. Heavens only knew where the diffidence and the shyness had vanished to. But then those had been only the outward appearance—underneath it he had been someone different all the time, a juvenile libertine, a deceiver and a false friend.

      ‘I have private business here. You were the cause of my leaving the country once, Lady Laurel. Now, I am glad to say, I go where I wish, when I wish.’

      ‘And you wish to be in Bath, of all places?’ She knew she sounded scornful. It was a beautiful city, but there was no getting past the fact that these days it was true to its reputation as the resort of the infirm and the elderly.

      ‘I can assure you, my presence in the same town as yourself is in no way intentional.’ He looked as though he would rather chew wasps. ‘My father is unwell and undergoing treatment here.’

      Phoebe cleared her throat and he turned, unsmiling. ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. I am aware we have not been introduced.’

      ‘But we have, Lord Revesby.’ Despite the crackling antagonism between Laurel and the Earl, Phoebe sounded absolutely delighted with his presence now and her cheeks were flushed becomingly with pink. ‘You will not recall it because I last saw you when you were the merest child. Why, I dandled you on my knee. I am Lady Cary, Lady Laurel’s aunt.’ She frowned slightly. ‘But how did you identify her just now, know to cross the room to us? My niece was travelling veiled.’

      Laurel knew the heat was definitely a blush this time. Would Giles reveal that she had removed her veil for a few incautious minutes and that he had taken advantage of that? Although to do so would expose him, once again, as a libertine.

      ‘It was you I recognised, Lady Cary, although not from my childhood. I must confess that I followed the chaise. After all, I too was coming to Bath and I wanted to make certain that the chance-met lady arrived safely.’ Giles glanced, unsmiling, at Laurel, then back to Phoebe. ‘I would not have recognised you today, ma’am, but I was close enough to glimpse you in Laura Place greeting your guest. When I saw you across the room just now I came over to enquire.’

      ‘You followed me? Why on earth would you do that? Perhaps your rakish propensities have not improved with age, my lord,’ Laurel said sharply. Her own behaviour the day before had been decidedly improper and knowing that added vinegar to her tone.

      ‘My what?’ Several heads turned and he lowered his voice. ‘You were an hysterical girl nine years ago, Laurel, and, it appears, you are as poor a judge of men now as you were then,’ Giles said, his voice silky with suppressed anger. ‘I assisted you yesterday out of a disinterested desire to help a stranger.’ In the look he gave her she read the message that he was not going to mention that kiss unless she did, but that was as far as any truce between them would go. ‘I followed because I was certain I knew you from somewhere. If I had realised who you were, I would have ridden in the opposite direction, believe me.’

      Let alone have kissed me, no doubt.

      That behaviour was all of a piece with what she knew of his true character.

      ‘Lord Revesby!’ Phoebe was all of a flutter at their hostility. Laurel realised that she had been paying no attention