Bath Scandal Read Online Free PDF Page A

Saddle warbles can be the very devil, and they come on so quickly.”
    “It’s no warble, my dear. I accidentally hit him with the end of my crop. I don’t have any warble flies. I keep the stable disinfected, but if you want your ale sent out, it’s no problem.”
    “Yes, please.”
    “Watch for Lucifer. He’ll get his tongue into your glass if you let him. He likes his ale.”
    “I am not a complete flat, Lord Horatio!”
    “What a splendid day it has been!” Gillie exclaimed when they reached home.
    Bea was coming to know her well enough to know it was not the coiffeur’s successful morning visit, nor the prospect of the cotillion ball that evening that occasioned the remark. It was horses.
    “I hope the evening will be equally splendid.” As she had entered Lady Gillian’s name in Mr. King’s subscription book, she felt the ball would not be a fiasco at least.
    That evening Bea arranged Gillie’s hair herself and lent her a green shot silk scarf to enliven her white gown. The greatest improvement in her looks, however, was her smile. She was really rather sweet, now that she had got over her perpetual sulking.
    “I hope they don’t waltz,” Gillie said as the carriage took them from Mrs. Searle’s comfortable house on Saint Andrew’s Terrace down busy Milson Street to the New Assembly Rooms.
    “Waltz in Bath! My dear, only in the racier private homes, such as your Aunt Bea’s. The country dance is all that is usually permitted at the Assembly Rooms, but on Thursday we have the cotillion ball. Two cotillions are performed at the fancy ball as well. As this is Thursday, there will be cotillions but no waltzing.”
    “That’s good, because I don’t know how to do it. Deborah lets us have two waltzes at our local assemblies. She wouldn’t let me waltz, because I am too young.”
    “Old enough to marry, but too young to waltz?” Bea exclaimed. “I should have thought marriage the more demanding chore. Is Deborah in charge of the local assemblies?”
    “She is in charge of everything,” Gillie said comprehensively.
    Deborah obviously ruled the roost at Alderton, but her rule did not extend to Bath. With a real concern for Gillie growing stronger by the moment, Bea decided to make this holiday a time to remember. She was busy among her friends, and saw to it that Gillie never lacked for partners. There was no ignoring the fact that no gentleman lingered after a dance, nor did he request a second honor. It was not so much the girl’s looks, for she turned out looking handsome enough, if a touch rustic. No, it was her harping on stable matters that cooled their ardor. The assembly closed at eleven sharp, and the ladies returned to Saint Andrew’s Terrace.
    “May we go riding again tomorrow, Aunt Bea?” was Gillie’s comment when they reached home. Not so much as a word about the assembly. She had met and stood up with half a dozen eligible gentlemen. Any normal girl would have been gurgling or at least repining.
    “Let us wait and see what the weather has in store for us.”
    Over the ensuing week Bea set a routine of riding in the morning, to induce her charge to participate in social matters for the remainder of the day. There was the girl’s toilet to smarten up. Southam had not stinted in supplying funds, nor did Beatrice stint in spending it on silks and muslins, gloves and shawls and bonnets.
    Lord Horatio was good to his word. He came twice to “give the youngster a whirl” in his curricle, as he described it. Of more importance, he brought his nephew, the Duke of Cleremont, with him to call one afternoon. The duke had the family looks—tall, slender, with dark hair and dark blue eyes. Yet these promising parts did not assemble into anything that would earn him the description handsome. He was all arms and legs, clumsy in his movements and awkward in his manners. His jackets were well cut, but between wrinkles, dust, and the scent of the stable, they were not what a gentleman’s