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Jo thought she looked very young and vulnerable, though exceptionally pretty with softly waving fair hair and green eyes.
‘Perhaps we could be friends, at least while I am in Bath,’ she offered impulsively. ‘I know it will only be for a short time, but we may write to each other when I go home—and if you are ever in trouble I would try to help you.’
‘Oh, how kind you are,’ Ellen said. ‘I do not believe you have told me your name.’
‘How silly of me,’ Jo said and laughed. ‘I was too concerned for you to think of it. I am Jo Horne and staying here in Bath with my aunt, Lady Wainwright. I used to live in Huntingdonshire, but when I leave here I shall be living with Great-aunt Bertha in Cornwall.
‘My whole family has gone to live with her, because Papa died and we had to leave the Vicarage. We were offered a home at the Lodge, but Mama did not like it there and poor Lucy was ill, and so we shall all live with my great-aunt from now on, but I was promised to Lady Wainwright for this visit.’ Jo pulled a face. ‘And now you know all there is to know about me, and very dull it is, too, compared with your life—’ She broke off as the waitress approached and ordered tea and cakes for them both. She held up her hand as Ellen reached for her purse. ‘No, you shall not pay a penny, Ellen—I may call you that, I hope?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Ellen said, her smile lighting up her face. ‘I am so very pleased that we have met, Jo. I was feeling very alone—I do not go out much, except to deliver my work or look in shop windows. I have no friends, for my old companions were left behind, though of course we had many friends in Spain.’
‘Was your husband a soldier?’
‘Yes,’ Ellen replied her eyes soft with memories. ‘Captain Matthew Beverley. He always took a little house for us wherever we were, and all his friends would come and dine with us. It was such fun, for they were all so brave and gallant…and it broke our hearts when some of them died. Not many of them had wives with them, but one or two did, and another had his sister and mother. They used to follow him from place to place, as I did Matt, staying wherever there was a house that was safe and away from the fighting.’
‘It must have been exciting,’ Jo said. ‘Though I should think it was hard having no proper home for all that time.’
‘I would have been content to lie with him beneath the stars,’ Ellen said. ‘Indeed, once or twice I did when there was no suitable accommodation to be had. I do not know what would have happened if Matt had lived, for I should have had to stay behind somewhere because of the child. Though perhaps he might have sold out like some of his friends did…’ A tear trickled from the corner of her eye and she dashed it away with her hand.
‘Are you able to make a living with your sewing?’ Jo asked, for she did not like to see her new friend cry, but could think of no way to comfort her.
‘I am quite good at embroidery and bead work,’ Ellen told her. ‘It is the kind of work that takes a lot of patience and time, and the French lady I work for has been generous so far. Besides, I have some money I raised by selling things that belonged to my husband. I shall manage for the moment, though I am a little anxious about when the child comes.’
‘Yes, you must be,’ Jo sympathised. She wished that Mama was still living in the Vicarage, for she knew that her mother would have befriended Ellen, even if only until the child was born and she was able to work again. ‘But you must find a woman who will come in and care for you, Ellen.’
‘I shall have to make inquiries,’ Ellen agreed. ‘It is so good to talk to someone, because it helps to make up your mind. I hope we shall meet again, Jo?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Jo said. ‘If you agree, I shall walk home with you once we have had our tea, and then I shall know where to visit you.’
‘Will you really?’ Ellen’s cheeks turned a little pink. ‘I know that some ladies look at me and wonder if I was ever truly married, but I promise you that it was so.’
‘I did not doubt you for a moment,’ Jo said, and then, boldly, ‘Even if you had not, I should still have been your friend, Ellen.’
‘Then you would be a true friend,’ Ellen said. ‘These cakes are delicious. You must come to tea with me another day, to let me say thank you for your kindness today.’
‘I need no thanks,’ Jo told her. ‘But I shall be very pleased to come to tea with you, Ellen.’
She smiled as they left the teashop together, for she had made a friend, someone she could truly like and relate to, which was not true of many of her aunt’s acquaintances. At least she now had someone she could visit whenever she had the time.
Chapter Two
Jo was thoughtful as she walked home after leaving the rooms where Ellen was lodging. They were respectable, though a little cramped, and were bound to be more so once the child was born. Ellen had put her individual stamp on them, her table covered in a pretty lace cloth, and her books and sewing on the table she used for her work. She had not apologised for her home, and Jo thought she was very brave to have accepted her circumstances the way she had, for she had clearly been used to better.
They had talked for a long time, and Ellen had told her about her parents’ home, which was a substantial house in Hampshire. Her father was the son of a wealthy merchant, and had been well educated, becoming even richer than his father had been.
‘He was determined that I should be properly brought up and I had a French governess,’ Ellen told her. ‘Father wanted me to be a lady—but when I wanted to marry Matt he was angry, because Lord Beverley would not accept me. He said that he was the equal of any aristocrat and that he would not allow me to marry the son of a bigot—and so we were forced to run away.’
‘Do you not think that your father would welcome you home?’
‘No, for we married at Gretna Green, and my father said that it was no true marriage. He said that I would be living in sin and that he wanted no more to do with me—and if he knew about the child he might demand that I give it up. He is a very religious man, Jo—and I think he would punish me for going against his wishes.’
‘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 ladies might go to refresh themselves. A small curving stairway led up to a second floor and there were seats and small tables set out so that chaperons and those who had come merely to greet friends and observe might do so in comfort. ‘Have you been here before?’
‘Oh, no,’ Chloe said. ‘I have been sort of out for a few months, for I attended some private balls at the homes of neighbours and friends, and my own ball will take place when I am eighteen next month. How old are you, Jo?’
‘I was eighteen this spring,’ Jo told her. ‘Do you have any sisters, Chloe?’
‘No, only a brother, who is a year older,’ Chloe replied with a sigh. ‘I have always thought it would be nice to have a sister—do you have one?’
‘I have two,’ Jo said. ‘Marianne is nineteen and was married only a week or so ago, and my sister Lucy is not old enough to come out yet.’
‘Oh, yes, I believe Lady Wainwright told Mama that your elder sister had married the Marquis of Marlbeck.’ Chloe turned her wide eyes on Jo. ‘How fortunate she was to make such a good match. I hope that I shall be as fortunate, though I am not sure…’ She frowned. ‘I have met someone I like, but I am not sure that he likes me. He is four and twenty, and I think he may not wish to be married just yet.’ She sighed and pulled a wry face. ‘Mama says there is plenty of time, for she intends to take me to London next spring for a season, but…’ She shook her head. ‘I should so like to fall in love, should you not, Jo?’
‘I am not sure what being in love is,’ Jo said truthfully. ‘I love my family, of course—but to be in love with a gentleman would be something quite different, I imagine.’
‘I think it is the most wonderful—’ Chloe caught her breath, and suddenly her face lit up with excitement. ‘Oh, he is here.’
Jo’s gaze followed the direction of her new friend’s. She could not see who Chloe was looking at for a moment, and then she saw a gentleman who had apparently just entered the ballroom. He was perhaps a little under six feet in height, of slim build with dark brown hair, and as he turned to look in their direction, Jo realised that she had seen him before. He was the gentleman who had come to her aid in the inn yard and then, only that morning, asked if he might buy the singing bird for Lucy! Mr Hal Beverley!
‘He has seen me,’ Chloe said and smiled. ‘He is coming this way.’
Jo said nothing. She watched the gentleman make his way towards them, and her pulses raced, but at the last moment, her attention was turned to a young man who addressed her from her right.
‘Miss Horne,’ he said as she turned towards him. ‘You may recall that we met at the Pump Room when you accompanied your aunt there two days ago?’
Jo turned her gaze upon him, struggling to recall his name. Her aunt had introduced them, but she had not been paying much attention, which was very rude of her. He was perfectly polite and quite respectable, though his sandy hair and pale eyelashes were not particularly attractive.
‘Good evening, sir,’ she said. ‘How nice to meet you again.’
‘Will you dance, Miss Horne?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Jo said, accepting his hand as she struggled to remember his name. ‘Mr…Tanner.’ She felt relieved as it came back to her. He was the nephew of one of her aunt’s oldest friends, she recalled, and one of the few younger gentlemen of her aunt’s acquaintance. ‘How kind of you…’
Jo saw from the corner of her eye that Chloe was now dancing with Hal Beverley. She was smiling up at him, and he seemed to be responding in an equally pleased manner. Jo did know why that made her feel a little envious, for they made a handsome couple and were clearly good friends.
Jo’s dance with Mr Tanner was enjoyable, for though he was not the best of partners he did not tread on her toes. She thanked him when it was over and rejoined her aunt, who had moved on to another of her acquaintance. Jo was not asked for the next dance and stood with her aunt watching the more fortunate girls who had partners. Her toe tapped in time to the music, but she was content enough for the moment, and did not expect that she would dance every dance. After all, there were so many pretty girls for the gentlemen to choose from. However, just as the third dance was about to begin she heard her name spoken and turned to find herself looking at Chloe and the gentleman she had been dancing with earlier.
‘This is Mr Hal Beverley,’ Chloe said. ‘He says that he does not know anyone else here this evening, and as he cannot dance with me all the time, I suggested that he dance with you, Jo.’
‘Miss Horne,’ Hal said and grinned as she made him a little curtsy, a hint of mischief in her face. ‘Will you take pity on me for this dance? I find myself a stranger here, apart from Chloe and Mrs Marsham.’
‘Oh…’ Unaccountably, Jo’s heart fluttered. ‘Yes, of course. How kind of you, sir.’ She gave him her hand, allowing him to lead her out on to the floor. Chloe was following with another partner—a rather dashing young man in a scarlet uniform.
‘I do not think it particularly kind,’ Hal said, his eyes quizzing her. ‘It is odd that I should know so few of the company here this evening—but I believe that at this time of year mothers bring their youngest daughters for a taste of social life, before they have their first Season in town.’
Looking up at him, Jo surprised laughter in his eyes. ‘You are perhaps used to more sophisticated company in London, sir? I dare say the company in Bath is a little slow for your taste.’
‘Perhaps,’ he agreed, but his bold look mocked her. ‘I was fortunate that Chloe had a friend or I should have had to sit this dance out.’
‘Oh, I think you might have found someone willing to introduce you to some of the other young ladies, sir.’
‘Yes, but I am not sure that I wish to dance with any of the other young ladies here, Miss Horne.’ He was giving her one of his wicked smiles again!
Jo hid her amusement and gave him a straight look. ‘I cannot think why, for there are some very pretty girls here tonight.’
‘Indeed, you are right. I would not doubt it for a moment.’
‘Then why—?’ She shook her head, her eyes sparkling. ‘No, do not answer, for I am sure I should not have asked.’
Hal chuckled. ‘I see no reason why not,’ he said. ‘I do not know why it should be, but I find that very young ladies either talk endlessly about nothing of consequence or say nothing at all—and I am not sure which is more tedious.’
‘Pray tell me which category I belong to,’ Jo said, her chin up. ‘Then I may amend my behaviour.’
‘Oh, I do not think that you belong to either,’ Hal told her, a teasing glint in his eye. ‘Indeed, my experience tells me that it cannot be so, for we are already acquainted, are we not?’
‘You mean because I almost trod on your toes earlier today? Or perhaps because you came to my rescue at the inn?’ She was deliberately provoking. ‘And, of course, we met again this afternoon…’
‘Yes, so we did,’ he agreed, matching her for wickedness. ‘Who knows, Miss Horne, we may be destined to meet wherever we go, like ghostly spirits passing in the night. Are you truly Miss Josephine Horne or but an apparition, a sprite sent here to tempt men to destruction? I believe it is the latter, for you have a touch of mystery that intrigues me.’
‘I think you are a terrible flirt, sir, and talk a great deal of nonsense!’ Jo could hardly keep from laughing.
‘Indeed, my father would agree with you,’ Hal replied, mock solemn. ‘But it seems that we are destined to meet for another reason—but not one that we ought to discuss this evening.’
Jo was puzzled. ‘I am afraid that I do not understand you, sir.’
‘Why should you?’ He smiled enigmatically as their dance came to an end. ‘Alas, I cannot say more this evening. I must thank you for the pleasure of your company. I should take you back to your friends, and then I must leave.’
‘Are you leaving so soon?’ She felt a pang of disappointment, for he had brought a touch of magic to the evening that had been lacking before his arrival.
‘I have another appointment,’ Hal said, his mouth quirking irreverently. ‘But I hope that we shall meet again soon, Miss Horne…if you are Miss Horne, and not a siren sent to lure my ship to the rocks.’
