Page 47 of Appointment in Bath

He shook his head. “Not since I returned from the Continent.”

“It’s—It’s a lovely city, I’ve heard.”

“Beautiful. Quite diverting, as well. There’s a marvelous confectionary shop there, as I recall. Makes delicious marzipan.” He glanced at her. “Do you like marzipan?”

“Very m-much. Our cook, Mrs. Stapleton, m-makes it every Christmas. She just finished a batch yesterday.”

Ivo marked the return of her stammer. He wondered what he’d said to provoke it this time. They were only riding together quietly, not discussing anything distressing save for her season. And that was only distressing to him, truth be told.

He’d met many ladies during his travels. But the peculiar thumping of his heart and strange ache in his stomach had only emerged during his recent visits with Meg. By God, but he liked her. He wished they might be together like this always.

It was a foolish inclination. A boyish one, too. Nothing lasted forever.

He cleared his throat. “How are the, ah, decorations coming?”

“I’m n-nearly finished. Timothy and the footmen have helped bring in the pine boughs and other greenery. I’ve tied the holly and ivy with ribbon b-bows and frosted the leaves with a solution of alum and boiled water. And this afternoon, Mrs. Church is assisting me in gilding the fruit and nuts.”

Ivo couldn’t imagine decorating for Christmas with only the servants to help. It seemed a depressing way to usher in the holiday. “We’ve done nothing at Beasley yet,” he said. “My family will see to it when they return.”

“Could you not have the servants make things ready?”

“My parents would be offended if the servants attempted to decorate for them. We Beresfords prefer doing the job ourselves.”

A troubled look came over her. She slowed her mare. “When will they be back?”

“Kate is expected on Friday. My parents the day after.”

“Does that mean… Will we still b-be able to ride together?”

“Is that what’s troubling you?”

“I m-merely thought—”

“Of course our rides can continue. Though not with the same frequency, I fear. My family keeps me woefully busy during the holidays. One of my siblings is always attaching themselves to my outings. It’s difficult to escape Beasley without someone marking my whereabouts. But it’s not impossible. Anyway, they’re not to know you and I are meeting each other. Even if they did manage to discover it…” He trailed off with a frown.

The closer it came to his parents returning, the more Ivo was plagued by misgivings. Not about Meg. He had nothing to doubt about his friendship with her. It was explaining that friendship to his family that was the problem.

His mother might understand, but his father wouldn’t. And James certainly wouldn’t. Ivo didn’t look forward to a season of tedious sermons from his straitlaced older brother.

“What?” Meg asked. “What would they d-do?”

Ivo gave her an eloquent grimace, more for humorous effect than to alarm her. “Lecture me endlessly, that’s all. It’s nothing I can’t withstand.”

Meg didn’t appear mollified. The same cloud of worry hung over her, darkening her face. “The quarrel b-between our families is decades’ old. B-Both sides are f-firmly entrenched.”

“Don’t dwell on it,” Ivo said. “I don’t intend to. It’s a habit, merely. And like all bad habits, must be broken eventually.”

“My father claims your father shot him,” she said.

Ivo started. “He what?”

“He says that Lord Allendale shot him in the shoulder.”

Ivo instantly recollected the long-rumored duel between his father and Sir Frederick. “When did this supposedly happen? Was it before my parents married?”

“He didn’t volunteer the circumstances. But they remain keen in his mind. His shoulder still pains him, you see. It has ever since I was a girl. I never knew the cause of it.”

“My father has never mentioned any such thing.”