CHAPTER ELEVEN
Louisa decided to take her staff to Bath, leaving Mrs Knowle and a maid to keep the house from dust and mustiness.
Bath was so hilly, and on such a scale that she would dispense with her carriage once she had been conveyed there, and walk or take a chair if needed.
Part of her knew she was running away and being cowardly, and she felt she had to apologise to the house for abandoning it to holland covers until the end of June, when Bath would be dusty and hot.
She felt sad leaving it, but told herself the change of scene and the opportunity to gradually build herself a new wardrobe of clothes, and perhaps attend a few concerts of music, would make her forget the nastiness and revive her spirits.
Lady Holdenby had certainly been correct in that she had spent rather a depressing year of near solitude, despite her freedom, and a little more bustle would do her good.
The house Louisa had taken was not one with a highly fashionable address, but in a good location on Edward Street, which was off Great Pulteney Street and close to Sydney Gardens.
She thought being over the river and at the edge of the built-up part would be quieter for Emily, who could be taken for walks in Spring Gardens and indeed Sydney Gardens, and it would mean she could walk with ease to the Pump Room or to the fashionable shops.
Hetty Goodworth had known Bath in her youth, and in fact had met her late husband there, which made her inclined to sigh rather a lot whenever she found herself in a place with ‘fond memories’, as Louisa found out.
The arrival of yet another widow in Bath made little initial impact, although when it was seen that the widow was youthful and still possessed of good looks, rather more interest was taken.
Several gentlemen with an eye to a widow of means, and drawing the line at middle-aged dowagers, attempted to pay court to her, but found her unresponsive, not so much dismissive as unaware of their efforts, which was remarkably depressing to the male ego.
In truth, Louisa was perfectly aware of them, but found it entertaining to feign sublime ignorance of their increasing desperation in their efforts to attract her attention.
As March advanced and spring made a tentative appearance, she was only too pleased to invite Miss Newent to accompany her on walks at a rather brisker pace than Hetty Goodworth might enjoy.
She was thus able to exchange one companion for another, leaving Hetty with Mrs Newent and to the unending joys of discussing what had happened to various old friends and rivals, and sighing a lot.
It was upon one of these walks, their first upon having bought subscription for the Season to Sydney Gardens, where the spring bulbs were coming into full bloom, that 171they were hailed by a gentleman who approached them with a delighted smile.
‘Lady Dembleby, upon my honour. How nice to see you, ma’am.’ Mr Henry Gilmorton raised his hat and bowed. ‘Abandoned the rural idyll for the heady pace of Bath?’ His eyes were laughing.
‘Oh, I am not sure I could manage anything more exciting than Bath, Mr Gilmorton, but I am surprised to see you here. I had supposed you to have left some time after your visit to Woodend Hall.’
‘I confess, ma’am, I did, but my grandmother found the winter undid all the good that the baths achieved in the autumn, and I am deputed to keep her company.’ He pulled a slight face.
‘Very dutiful of you, I am sure. What was the alternative?’
‘Ah, there you have me, Lady Dembleby. Life in the family domicile was far too similar to life in the family vault, if you take me, and I am not the London type. The Pump Room is a mausoleum, but otherwise, well, a fellow may find entertainment in Bath.’
She shook her head over his ‘life of dissolution’ and introduced him to Miss Newent, who was striving to look invisible.
The conversation did not last long, for the weather was not warm enough to stand still for any length of time, but he promised to call in Edward Street the next afternoon, and went striding away upon his constitutional.
‘Did you not like Mr Gilmorton, Lydia?’ enquired Louisa as they stopped briefly upon one of the Chinese bridges that spanned the canal.
172‘He is very … tall,’ murmured Lydia, and blushed as if she had said something daring.
‘He is most certainly not a short gentleman,’ agreed Louisa.
‘And he appears to have a very happy nature.’
‘I have not encountered him when otherwise.’
‘How come you to know him, ma’am? Was he perhaps some friend of your husband’s?’
Louisa almost choked. The thought of any of Dembleby’s friends being as likeable and friendly as Mr Gilmorton was impossible to entertain.
‘No, no. He came into Somerset in the autumn and stayed with the Barkbys at Woodend Hall. He saw service in the cavalry with Major Barkby.’
‘Oh, he was a soldier. That accounts for it.’
‘It does?’
‘Why yes. Life must now seem so much better if there are no longer Frenchmen trying to kill one, and one is not forced to sleep in dirty mud huts.’
Louisa wished, in that moment, that Major Lord Barkby might be at her side, and hear this artless description of the trials of the military life. She thought he would appreciate it. Then she was hit by the image of him in her morning room, and the memory of what he had said.
‘I am sorry, dear ma’am. Have I said something untoward? You look quite … sad. Oh, my goodness, you did not have some brother in the Peninsula who met a sad but noble fate, did you?’ Lydia looked stricken, and her hand went to her cheek.
‘Oh no, I promise you. You mistake the matter entirely. 173I … I was reminded when you said “Frenchmen” that I had completely forgot to purchase a length of French-style twill to make little Emily a coat when I was looking at fabrics yesterday,’ declared Louisa mendaciously.
‘I was so caught up with the most beautiful black lace that it slipped my mind. What an awful mother I am, to be sure.’
‘Dear Lady Dembleby, I am sure no mama is more caring than you are for your little girl. It is most affecting.’ Lydia brightened at a sudden thought.
‘We might return home via the drapers’ shop and purchase it today, before you forget again.
’ It did make it sound as though Louisa’s memory was that of an aged grandparent, but she gladly assented, and both Mr Gilmorton and Lord Barkby were cast from thought and replaced with a discussion on the merits of velveteen.
Hetty Goodworth was not a woman of remarkable astuteness, but she had wondered about Louisa’s relationship with her military neighbour.
That he was very taken with her she did not doubt, but whether it was mutual was open to debate.
Whilst she was too well aware of dear Lady Dembleby’s views upon men and marriage, her own belief was that a woman as young as Louisa ought to be married.
It steadied one, and how could a woman in her twenties make the right decisions in life?
She rather liked the officer of dragoons, though she found his disfigurement unsettling.
He had a very trustworthy air, and he was kind to children, or at least to Emily, which she found rather charming and unusual, especially in a soldier.
She had an expectation that military men were 174bloodthirsty, and his actions upon the ‘Dreadful Night’ of the burglary had proven that he was not as mild and peaceable as he had previously appeared.
On the day that he had come to see Emily, and then Louisa, she had found her relative preoccupied to a degree that had not been evident prior to his visit, despite Louisa saying that it was the pressures of working out what to take with them to Bath.
Had his seeing her in half mourning for the first time led him to say too much?
The information that Mr Gilmorton would be calling the following day made her wonder if another gentleman of military background might find Lady Dembleby rather to his taste.
He was not titled, of course, but his grandmama was a duchess, and his lineage even more grand than Lord Barkby’s.
She remembered him as a gentleman of cheerful demeanour and nice manners, and if he did not have that look of deep understanding that his lordship possessed, then perhaps deep understanding was not what was desired.
When he presented his card the following afternoon, Louisa immediately had Leece bring him up to the neat little drawing room overlooking the street.
It was not furnished as Louisa would have had her own home, being rather too green, and the furniture showing signs of wear as a hiring must do, but she felt no need to apologise for it, and it smelt of good polish and the two bowls of hyacinths set upon the side tables.
Louisa greeted him warmly.
‘Very snug little place you have here, ma’am. Most convenient. And what a wonderful scent.’
175‘My head gardener at Elliston Court was bringing on hyacinths for the house, and it seemed almost wicked not to enjoy them, so I had several placed securely in a box of hay and brought with us. A hiring never smells as one’s home, and I thought this would be cheering.
I am under the strictest instructions to send them back after they have flowered, so that the bulbs may be kept.
I do love the scent of hyacinths. They bring the spring indoors, so to speak. ’
‘Better the scent of such blooms indoors than the spring outside that I have been experiencing upon my way here. There is a particularly chilly east wind this afternoon and your hearth is very welcome.’ He smiled. ‘Have you brought your little girl with you to Bath, ma’am?’