‘But you did.’
Hart shifted in his chair beside Lyonsdale. He was the one who possessed all the finesse and charm. He was always the one who would petition the members of the ton to invest with them. And this was part of the reason why. The look in Hart’s eye told Lane that he might have overstepped himself with the Duke. It told him he should stop talking, lest they lose the man’s help in the future.
Lyonsdale came from one of the most prestigious families in Britain. He was a well-respected member of the House of Lords. He was a duke and not the type of man who was accustomed to being talked to in this way. Yet Lane’s pride was too great. He might have been raised in a Foundling Hospital, but that didn’t mean that he and those like him were not important. They had a place in towns like Bath and Brighton and anywhere else they saw fit to inhabit.
Yes, the look in Hart’s eyes said to just shut up—but in this matter, Lane was not about to brush aside the Duke’s ignorance.
‘With that singular vision of yours you have discounted everyone who is not like you. We have our pleasures, too. We have our place in this world and in time you may find that we are the ones who possess the majority of wealth in this country. Your title and pedigree will not put food on your table for ever.’
There was a loud groan from Hart as he lowered his head and a lock of his black hair slid across his forehead as he pinched the bridge of his nose. By keeping his head lowered and not looking at Lane, it was apparent he was contemplating where he would hit Lane first, once Lyonsdale left.
Silence descended over them, cloaking the room with an air of foreboding.
Finally, the Duke let out a loud breath. ‘You can pick your head up, Hart. I’m not about to storm out. This is just becoming entertaining.’
While Hart’s head jerked up, Lane had the urge to reach across the table and plant a facer on Lyonsdale. He was not entertaining. None of this was entertaining. Why were people all of a sudden considering him entertaining? First Mrs Sommersby and now Lyonsdale.
‘And stand down, Lane. I did not mean to imply that the world outside my circle isn’t important. But certainly you know that the ton sets the fashion for the rest of England. If those of English Society move out of Bath completely, it will only be a matter of time before others follow suit. That was what I meant. My comments were not intended to disparage anyone with a position in Society under me.’
The tension in Lane’s shoulders began to ease a bit even though Lyonsdale was right. Lane was not an unreasonable man. To succeed in business, you had to have an open mind and view a situation from another point of view. ‘It is a valid point—however, I have been to the spas. They are filled with the infirm and aged. And they keep coming. This is not just a town that attracts people for the fashionable entertainments. This is a town that people believe will cure their ills. I cannot say if they are right or wrong. I have not witnessed it myself, but what I have seen is the look in the eyes of those who I have spoken to that shine with hope. A hope to be free of the aches and diseases that have plagued them. They believe the water works. And if it doesn’t cure them completely, soaking in it offers some relief. Even if for just a little while.’
Lyonsdale looked over at Hart and eyed him up and down. ‘Why are you the one who always tries to convince me to invest in these endeavours of yours? Lane is much more logical than you are.’
Hart appeared completely affronted. ‘Not true. I appeal to your need to make money. What is more logical than that?’
‘Lane has appealed to my sense of justice.’ He looked at Lane and arched his brow. ‘He has almost made me feel that by investing in this I will be performing some sort of civic duty.’
‘Well, we all know how much you pride yourself on your civic duty, so let’s go with that, shall we?’ Hart replied. ‘We can look to see how many widows and orphans take to the waters.’ After he said it he glanced at Lane and looked down, as if he realised immediately that he had spoken out of turn considering Lane was an orphan.
‘You really should let Lane speak to me about your future investments,’ Lyonsdale said, shaking his head.
‘Then what will I do? Stand around and exude silent encouragement?’
‘You should try that. I’d be interested to see how long you could stay in a room with the two of us and not say a word. Silence is such a foreign concept for you.’
‘Not true.’
‘True,’ both Lyonsdale and Lane said in unison.
Hart glanced between the two of them and pressed his lips together. ‘You are both wrong. And to prove it, I will sit here in silence while the two of you discuss how much money Lyonsdale will give us to build the spa.’ He raised a challenging brow at him and smirked.
Before his interest waned or Hart provoked him too far, Lane needed to secure Lyonsdale to this project. ‘Do you now see the potential we have here?’ he asked, taking the Duke’s attention away from Hart.
Lyonsdale drew the sheet of paper with the budget closer to him and his gaze slowly moved from side to side as he scanned the page. When he sat back, it was Lane whom he focused on. ‘I will fund some of this, but I am not willing to give you all the money you need. And it will be on loan to you for five years.’
When he told them the amount of what he was willing to give and the interest he would charge them, Lane’s heart sank. It was not an unusual arrangement that Lyonsdale had offered. Most of the time Lyonsdale preferred to be conservative in his investments. It was just that this time—with this opportunity—Lane had hoped Lyonsdale would see the full potential and take the risk.
‘Come now,’ Hart said, breaking his self-imposed silence. ‘If you give us the full amount we think we will need, then you can become a full partner and reap all the rewards when this spa becomes the sensation of all of Bath and word of it hits London and this town becomes fashionable again.’
‘I thought you were going to sit there and offer your silent support?’ Lyonsdale said, shifting his weight on his chair away from Hart.
‘You knew that was never going to happen, so there is no need to pretend you expected it to. It is early in the morning. You haven’t had your breakfast yet. Why don’t you go home, have something to eat and think about it some more?’
‘No amount of food is going to make me change my mind. While I do believe, for now, it is a sound investment, I still have reservations about the long-term success of this venture. I’m sorry, but this is all I am willing to offer.’
It wasn’t enough. They needed more money if they were to purchase The Fountain Head Hotel and convert it into a spa. The hot spring was running under their property for a reason. Lane had discovered it for a reason. And that reason was to make money.
After Lyonsdale left, Hart seemed to have taken the news much better than Lane. ‘Do not look as if the world is crashing down on you, Lane. You always take these things too much to heart.’
Lane’s reputation and the success of his business ventures were what kept him acceptable in the eyes of certain members of Society. Hart would never understand the prejudices he faced as an orphan with no family connections at all. His business success was a way of proving to them that he was just as good as they were. He believed that and, on some level, he knew some of them did as well.
‘Come with me, Lane. It’s Wednesday and my wife has told me that they serve a good breakfast at the Lower Assembly Rooms today. I think I need to get you out of this place for a few hours to improve that foul look on your face.’
Chapter Six
The Lower Assembly Rooms were located close to the banks of the River Avon, not far from the King’s and Queen’s Baths and Bath Abbey. The large room Lane found himself in with the tall windows held balls on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, according to Hart. It wasn’t until they stepped inside that he recalled Mrs Sommersby mentioning it to him when they spoke in the park.
While they were being escorte
d past the small round tables of two-to-four people to get to their seats, he found himself scanning the occupants to see if she were here and found it oddly disconcerting when his spirits dropped even more than they already had when he didn’t see her.
‘Have something to eat. It might help to improve that mood you’re in,’ Hart said after they settled in with their steaming mugs of coffee and buttery-smelling breads.
‘I’m fine.’
‘You don’t appear to be fine. You look as if you will rip apart our waiter should he offer you more coffee. Which is rather inconvenient since I believe I will be having more than one cup.’
‘Lyonsdale is wrong about this. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Lyonsdale will never change.’ Hart brushed a lock of his black hair out of his eyes. ‘You know he is not one to part with his money easily.’
‘But how could he not see the immediate value in this?’
Hart picked up his knife and began to spread marmalade on his bread. ‘Instead of obsessing over the fact that Lyonsdale would not give us all the money we require, let’s talk about who we should approach next. You always get so offended whenever someone doesn’t see your vision or care to invest.’
‘I do not.’
‘Yes, you do.’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Yes. Yes, you do. You should see how that vein in your temple is pulsing right now.’
Lane rubbed his temple before he caught the mischievous glint in Hart’s eye. ‘You’re an ass. And if it is pulsing, as you say, it’s because I’m with you.’
His response only served to make Hart laugh. ‘You, my friend, view life far too seriously. Stop trying to prove something. There is no need. You already are successful.’
‘I’m not trying to prove anything. I am trying to make money for you and me and I would think you would appreciate that.’
‘I do. However, we both know that there is more to this than that and that’s why you’ve taken Lyonsdale’s decision so hard.’
‘And when did you suddenly become qualified to say what my motives are? You, of all people. You are a complicated wreck and you know it.’
‘Correction. I was a complicated wreck. Now, I’m just complicated.’
‘How does Sarah live with you?’
‘She finds my complications endearing.’
‘At least someone does.’ To avoid having to look at Hart’s cocky grin, he turned his attention away from his friend.
And spotted Mrs Sommersby, sitting not far from them.
She was wearing a pink and green dress as she sat with a red-haired young woman. Both women appeared to be enjoying each other’s company as they placed their orders with their waiter.
‘...are much less conservative in their investing than Lyonsdale,’ he heard Hart say, breaking into his study of Mrs Sommersby. ‘I believe there is a good chance that I can get them to commit to this.’
‘Who?’
‘Weren’t you listening to me?’ Hart scanned the area of the room where Mrs Sommersby sat as if he were trying to determine what had captured Lane’s attention. With so many people sitting near them, it would be impossible for him to work it out. Hart must have come to that conclusion as well, since he looked back at Lane. ‘I’ll be heading back to London in two days to handle some additional affairs that need my attention and will speak with a number of potential investors then. Hopefully, soon, we will have the funds we need to create this spa of yours.’
At the mention of the spa, Lane found it hard to swallow the bread in his mouth. ‘Hopefully they will be more willing to invest in it than Lyonsdale was.’
Not wishing to dwell any further on his aggravating day, Lane’s attention was drawn back to Mrs Sommersby, who was now speaking in an animated fashion to her companion. Narrowing his focus on to her lips, he tried to determine what she might be saying. Some people were proficient in reading lips. Lane discovered he was not.
‘I propositioned the older one once. Years ago, before I met Sarah.’
The fact that Hart had leaned closer to him when he said it made it hard to ignore the comment.
‘Who?’
‘The dark-haired woman sitting with the red-haired chit you’ve been staring at.’ With his head, he nodded in the direction of Mrs Sommersby’s table. ‘She’s a widow by the name of Sommersby. The beauty beside her with the flaming hair and full lips I’ve never seen before, so I cannot help you there.’
The idea of Hart and Mrs Sommersby together made Lane’s stomach drop. It shouldn’t matter to him who this woman chose to spend time with. He didn’t even know her. ‘What makes you believe I was staring at any woman in this room? Perhaps I was simply staring off, not wanting to continue to look at your face.’
The studied expression Hart was giving him made him shift a bit in his seat.
‘My mistake.’
‘Do you have any particular investors in mind that you’ll be contacting?’
‘I do. There are two gentlemen in particular that—’
‘What did you say when you propositioned her?’ Lane felt his forehead wrinkle as he continued to try to push away the image of Mrs Sommersby with his friend.
‘Pardon?’
‘Mrs Sommersby? What did you say to her...exactly?’ Having the need to do something with his mouth so he would just stop talking, Lane took a sip of coffee and waited.
His friend chose that very moment to take a bite of bread, prolonging the time it took him to answer. ‘I don’t remember my exact words.’
‘Well...what is it that you think you might have said to her?’
‘Well... I think I might have asked if she’d care to take a turn with me in the darkened gardens during a ball we attended together. It was probably a cold night and I may have offered to keep her warm as we looked at the stars.’
‘Have you had much success with that suggestion?’
‘You’d be surprised.’ Hart took another bite of bread.
An inexplicable lump formed in Lane’s throat. ‘So you are intimately acquainted with the woman?’
‘Mrs Sommersby?’ Hart shook his head. ‘No, I thought you were just referring to the suggestion in itself. I’d had a bit of success with it in the past.’
‘But not with her?’
Once again, Hart shook his head, but this time the movement was slower. ‘No, no. If I recall correctly, she was flattered, but I am certain she definitely declined.’ Picking up his cup, he looked over to where Mrs Sommersby was sitting. ‘Before Sarah, I had a marked preference for older women.’
‘She’s not that old,’ Lane replied, sounding almost indignant, which was strange since he had no reason to feel insulted on her behalf.
‘Well, she is certainly older than the girls the mothers try to throw into your path when you are an earl attending a ball, I can tell you that. I found older women more at ease with themselves and they know their desires much better than a girl out of the schoolroom usually does. And if you find the right one, you don’t have to fear being trapped into marriage.’
‘Is that why you spent your time with married women?’
‘I had no desire to deflower a virgin and then leave her reputation in tatters. And I never saw the appeal of paying for sex. Married women whose husbands had mistresses were my haven.’
‘But you said you propositioned Mrs Sommersby and she’s a widow.’
‘Yes, but she’s a widow who had made it known that she was not interested in marriage. With her looks and lively character, and that bit of information, I was taken with her for an entire Season.’
‘An entire Season?’
‘It was a number of years after her husband died and as I said, years ago. And just because I was taken with her doesn’t mean that I was celibate for all those months.’ The smile on his face reached his eyes. ‘Perhaps that was why sh
e turned me down. She’s a shrewd one, that one.’
‘Perhaps she simply didn’t find you attractive.’
‘We both know that cannot be the reason.’
‘Have you always been this confident in your charms?’
Hart appeared to give the question consideration. ‘Yes. I suppose I have been. But that doesn’t signify now. Now I am a contented married man who can look back with pleasant nostalgia on the life I led. What about you? You are not one to place your relationships out for the world to see. Are you as confident with women as you are with business? I’ve not witnessed that side of you in all the years we’ve known each other.’
The waiter came to their table to clear away their plates, saving Lane from having to answer.
‘Lane?’
Damn. He hated the thought that went into answering questions like this. Years ago, Lane learned no good came from analysing his feelings. It was best to move through life without thinking too much about what anything made him feel. He had become quite skilled at it.
‘I do well for myself.’
The vague comment made Hart laugh. ‘With the money you’ve made I’m sure you do and I’ve been told you are not hard on the eyes.’
Lane sat up a bit taller. ‘By whom?’
‘Miss Violet Westfield, one of Sarah’s friends. She saw us together some time ago. I can introduce you when you are back in London, if you like?’
Was his wife’s friend as attractive as Mrs Sommersby? Not that Mrs Sommersby was an outstanding beauty, but she was pretty and there was just something about her. He turned back to take a look to try to determine what it was.
‘If we can get the funding we need, it might be some time before I’m back in London,’ he replied, keeping his eyes on Mrs Sommersby.
‘And your decision is based solely on your need to remain here on business?’
When Lane looked back at Hart, he wanted to hit that all-too-perceptible smirk off his face.
‘Yes.’
‘Hmm. Well, I’m sure you have things that you need to address back at the coffee house and I promised Sarah that I would be home by noon to go with her for a drive around the countryside, so why don’t I ask for the bill and we can leave?’
Mrs Sommersby's Second Chance Page 5
