Page 97 of Appointment in Bath

He kissed her cheek. “I swear I’ll make you happy, Meg.”

“You already have,” she whispered in his ear.

His lips found hers. He kissed her again, deeply, sweetly, tenderly. A kiss Meg returned with building confidence. Her heart thumped hard. Or perhaps it was his heart, beating as heavily as her own. In that moment, it was hard to tell where one of them ended and the other began.

When Ivo at last lifted his head to look at her, his eyes were glistening, too. “Well, my dear,” he said, a bit unsteadily. “It appears we’re only halfway across. What do you say to our continuing to the other side?”

Meg beamed up at him. Her friend. Her love. The man she was going to marry. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s.”

Epilogue

Ivo remained in Bath for another month, walking, riding, and shopping with Meg and escorting her to concerts and dances at the Upper Rooms. Just because she was no longer on the marriage mart didn’t mean she shouldn’t enjoy the city to the utmost. Indeed, they both enjoyed it all the more because they were in love.

Most mornings, they accompanied Sir Frederick to the Pump Room so he could take the waters. His health was gradually improving, even if his temperament was not. Ivo often caught the grumpy baronet contemplating the pair of them with a frown. Though he’d given his approval for the match, Sir Frederick plainly recognized the many difficulties a connection between the Burton-Smythes and the Beresfords would bring.

Ivo’s own parents arrived in the third week of March, in company with Kate, James, and Jack. Kate was newly betrothed to Lieutenant Heywood, who would be joining them there with his sister the following month.

Like Sir Frederick, Lord and Lady Allendale gave their approval to Ivo and Meg’s engagement, though in a more open-hearted fashion. To their mind, Meg’s pedigree was no longer at issue. After all, once Ivo and Meg wed, she would no longer be a Burton-Smythe. She would be a Beresford.

That didn’t mean the obstacles were at an end. There was still the first meeting between Sir Frederick and Ivo’s parents to contend with.

While Kate and Jack settled into the family’s rented house near the Circus, Lord and Lady Allendale, and James along with them, contrived a meeting with Ivo, Meg, and Sir Frederick at the Pump Room.

It was by way of being neutral ground, and therefore a more desirable location to confront their childhood foe than in either of their drawing rooms.

Sir Frederick all but turned to stone when he saw them enter the Pump Room, his glass of cloudy Bath mineral water held, untasted, in his hand. He stood a bit straighter, still relying on his cane for support.

Ivo’s parents, by contrast, appeared entirely unaffected. Lady Allendale’s hand was tucked in her husband’s arm, the two of them close as ever, providing mutual support and protection. Only their eyes betrayed the truth of their acrimonious history with Sir Frederick. Ivo had rarely seen his father’s gaze so icy. And as for Ivo’s mother… Her sapphire blue eyes fairly shot sparks.

“Fred,” she said.

“Margaret.” Sir Frederick offered her a rigid bow before turning on Ivo’s father. The remnants of hatred, nurtured too long to dismiss, lingered in his face. “Lord Allendale.”

“Sir Frederick,” Ivo’s father said coldly. “Isn’t this an interesting pass?”

“That’s one word for it,” Sir Frederick grunted in reply.

Ivo’s mother shot an arch glance at his glass. “Are you not going to drink your medicine?”

Coloring with embarrassment, Sir Frederick downed the foul-tasting water. His features contorted in a grimace. “A bitter brew”—he gave the empty glass to a attendant— “but a necessary one.”

“Quite,” Lord Allendale said. “We must all swallow our share of bitterness for the children’s sake.”

“It’s their happiness that’s important now,” Lady Allendale concurred. “Not our ancient grievances.”

Ivo and Meg stood side by side, all but holding their breath. Their gloved hands were clasped in silent solidarity. They both knew how important this meeting was. They also knew that, regardless of its outcome, they still had each other. There was nothing that could change that now. Nothing that could prevent their marrying.

That didn’t mean they were careless of the feelings of their parents. Ivo understood now just how much the past impacted the future. It couldn’t simply be swept under the rug in the name of progress. But perchance, in time, a certain harmony might be found, sufficient for them all. Not a reconciliation precisely, but a means of healing and moving forward.

Meg squeezed Ivo’s hand before releasing it. Her father looked very alone at the moment, as though he was standing against the world. Given his past conduct, perhaps he deserved to be alone. But these old grudges served no one. Like Ivo, Meg was looking to the future.

She went to her father and slipped her arm through his to offer her support. “Shall we t-take a turn about the room?”

“An excellent idea,” Ivo’s mother said. She smiled up at her husband. “Shall we, my love?”

“I am, as ever, at your service,” Ivo’s father said.

Ivo lagged behind as the four of them strolled off together—an unlikely quartet, but one that was soon to be bound inextricably by the bonds of Ivo and Meg’s marriage.