Название: Mrs Sommersby’s Second Chance
Автор: Laurie Benson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9781474089265
isbn:
‘What was that?’ the other man asked him.
‘I said the water has been known to cure those who are deaf.’
The balding man shook his head. ‘Well, it helps with ailments, does nothing for theft.’
‘Deaf. I said it cures deafness,’ the other man said louder.
‘Oh, rightly so. I’ve been coming here every day for a year and drink three pints a day. Works wonders.’
The calculations of revenue started to happen in Lane’s head. ‘You’ve been coming here for a year?’
‘Near to what?’
‘He was verifying that you’ve been taking the waters here for an entire year,’ the elderly woman chimed in, rolling her eyes. The diamonds in her earrings sparkled as she shook her head.
The old man waved her off with his hand. ‘I heard him. I heard him.’
How many patrons in this room had been coming to the spa that long? Repeat customers were a boon to any business—and this particular one was drinking more than a glass a day. What exactly was it that kept a gentleman such as this coming back? Was it something more than his belief in the water?
The elderly lady broke into his thoughts as she addressed the woman beside him.
‘Good morning, my dear. Lovely to see you, as always.’
‘Good morning, Your Grace.’ The woman gave a slight curtsy and the sleeve of her scarlet-silk spencer brushed against his arm. ‘It’s a pleasure. I wasn’t aware you had returned to town.’
‘Just arrived yesterday and haven’t sent my cards around yet. My grandson was interested in showing his wife the sights in Bath. She’s never been. I saw it as a wonderful opportunity to enjoy the restorative effects of the waters and spend time with my family. Pity it’s raining today.’
‘Yes, it is. I was looking forward to a long hot soak when I awoke this morning.’
So, she had intended to bathe here today. He couldn’t understand why. She couldn’t be any older than his thirty-seven years. She appeared fit and her movements, while graceful, were spry. Perhaps she just enjoyed the feel of the hot water.
An image of the woman with her dark hair piled high on her head, soaking in the large stone bath as her skin glistening with the steam of the water, filled his mind. Did they bathe naked here in the spa? He imagined the smooth swell of her breasts submerged partially in the hot water and he swallowed hard, thinking about swimming up to her and licking the water from her soft skin. The pool of water he spied below was large, which would leave them with plenty of room to explore one another below the surface of the water or on one of the stone steps leading down into the bath. In his mind, he pictured them in there, after the spa had been closed up for the night. Those musings quickly ended with the words of the white-haired gentleman across from him.
‘Blockage of the bowels.’
Lane blinked a few times, bringing the room back into focus as he felt his eyebrows rise. ‘Pardon?’
There was a soft sputter of laughter from the woman he had been daydreaming about, before she covered her mouth with her gloved hand and pretended to cough.
‘I said blockage of the bowels,’ the man repeated a bit louder. ‘It also cures blockage of the bowels. Is that why you’re here? Or is it for the women? Many fine women here in this town.’ The man eyed the Duchess on his right.
She raised her chin and arched a very regal-looking brow at the man who appeared older than her advanced age. Her expression had the effect she intended since he moved a few steps away from her and shifted his attention back to Lane. None of them had been introduced to him and yet they all seemed perfectly content to speak with him about the advantages of taking the water here. Was all of Bath like this or was it something unique that happened while you were all partaking in a glass of water that might, or might not, have you attached to a chamber pot for an undisclosed amount of time?
‘Leave him alone,’ said the elderly Duchess. ‘Let the man enjoy his water in peace.’
Enjoying it was probably a gross exaggeration. ‘I don’t mind,’ Lane said, feeling a need to speak with these people to better understand what motivated them to frequent such an establishment. ‘I’ve come to Bath at the suggestion of a friend. He thought I was sure to find something I’d like here.’
‘Plenty of things to like in Bath,’ the man who was hard of hearing replied back. This time he eyed the brunette to Lane’s right.
‘I am not a thing, Mr Falk,’ she said, surprising Lane with her way of directly addressing the man’s comment.
More surprising was the way the tone of her voice and her confident demeanour made the man redden with embarrassment at her chastisement. Although that did little to stop him from continuing.
‘You will never find another husband with that outspoken nature of yours.’
‘I am glad to hear of it. That is more reason to speak my mind.’
‘A man doesn’t like a woman who speaks her mind. A man likes a woman who is docile and deferential.’
‘What nonsense,’ the Duchess interjected. ‘A man would be bored with such a woman in less than a week.’ She shifted her attention to Lane. ‘What say you, sir? Do you agree with his proclamation?’
The two elderly gentlemen leaned closer and watched, as if they were warning him not to side with the two women in this odd little party.
Lane glanced at the woman beside him before addressing the Duchess. ‘I’ve never given it any thought.’
‘But surely you have preferences in the women you spend your time with.’
He was being watched too closely by the four people in this group. Why couldn’t they still be discussing the benefits of the water? He downed the contents of the glass in his hand, forgetting it was the spa water. If only he could wipe his tongue on his sleeve to alleviate the coppery taste in his mouth. He had learned not to care what other people thought of him a long time ago, but he found he didn’t want the woman beside him to think him lily-livered. It was not the impression he wanted to leave her with.
‘An interesting way to avoid answering a question,’ she commented. Her brown eyes held that now-familiar hint of amusement under her arched brow.
Lane had come here to gather information. That was all. How had he become a source of entertainment for her?
‘Well?’ she asked.
‘I’ve never given much thought to the type of women I prefer.’
‘I meant the water.’
‘Oh.’ There were no mineral deposits at the bottom of his glass. And, thankfully, no strands of hair. ‘It was not what I expected.’
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