Mrs Sommersby's Second Chance

by Laurie Benson

  ‘I wanted to see the labyrinth.’ He would have much preferred to be alone with Mrs Sommersby in one of the secluded spots in the maze, but if his only chance at spending time in her company today was with Miss Collingswood then he would take what he could get. And the young woman, he was discovering, was not horrible company. ‘Would you ladies care to join me during my brief walk?’

  He had come here to forget her. Now, if she declined his invitation, he would be spending the remainder of his day wondering where in the garden she had gone and what she had done.

  ‘How long do you intend to walk?’ Mrs Sommersby asked, shifting her wriggling puppy in her arms.

  He took out his watch from his waistcoat pocket to check. ‘Another half an hour.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Clara reminded herself that the reason they were in Sydney Gardens this morning was because they had hoped to see Mr Lane. But now that they had seen him and she had looked into his eyes, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to see if there was a spark between him and Harriet. She shifted her gaze to her young friend and the contained excitement in Harriet’s eyes spoke volumes about her interest in the man. Clara looked back at Mr Lane and found him studying her. Did he suspect what she was up to? The leaves around them rustled as the soft breeze grew stronger.

  ‘We would love to join you, Mr Lane.’ The words were spoken on an exhale as if she needed to push them out of her body. ‘Thank you for the kind invitation.’

  ‘It’s my pleasure.’

  ‘Hopefully, Humphrey will not slow us down too much. He can be easily distracted.’ She placed her dog down on the path and secured the lead to his collar. ‘Be a good boy, will you?’

  The three of them began their stroll along the pathway and she almost had to tug Harriet to walk in the middle of them. Sometimes she forgot that Harriet wasn’t always comfortable in the company of gentlemen.

  As they strolled in and out of the patches of muted sunlight that shone on to the path through the leaves above them, their conversation drifted from last night’s performance of The Rivals to the fact that she had missed her daily morning visit to the spa.

  Miss Collingswood’s brows drew together. ‘Do you truly go every morning?’

  ‘I do. I’ve been doing that for more years than I can remember.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Years ago, I went for my health. Now I suppose I go more out of habit than anything else. Bathing in the waters of the spa is wonderful. There is nothing like being submerged in all that hot water.’

  Early on in her marriage she had lost a child before she could carry it to full term. She had been advised that bathing in the water could strengthen her womb, so they had moved to Bath from London and she went to the spa every day. She lost two more children after that, in much the same way as the first. After they had buried the third infant that came from her body before it was ready, Robert said that they should stop trying. He loved her too much to lose her and was afraid she would bleed out and die if it happened again. Clara had continued to go to the spa even after that in the hope that some day he might change his mind. He never did and eventually they left Bath and moved back to London. But even when she returned after he died, she still continued to bathe in the spa. Old habits were hard to break. Even those that didn’t make sense any more.

  ‘How often do you take the thermal baths?’ Mr Lane asked as she stopped to let Humphrey sniff a particular tree.

  ‘Every Tuesday and Thursday barring extenuating circumstances. Soaking in the hot water for long bouts of time can relieve any soreness you might have. It feels wonderful. Have you tried it yet, Mr Lane? You had been at the spa the day we met.’

  His eyes were on her and yet he didn’t respond. It almost appeared as if he hadn’t heard her until he eventually shook his head. ‘I’ve not taken a bath in any of the spas here yet. The only baths I’ve taken have been in my room at my hotel.’

  She gave a tug to Humphrey’s leash, coaxing him to continue walking. ‘It’s a very different experience. The lovely thing about bathing in the spa is that not only do you have enough room to stretch out under the water, but you never need to concern yourself that the water will cool down. The water remains hot.’

  ‘That sounds heavenly,’ Miss Collingswood chimed in. ‘And you say you go on Tuesdays and Thursdays?’

  ‘Most weeks I do, but this morning all I wanted to do was remain in bed.’

  Mr Lane stopped walking and stared at her. ‘What time did you finally rise this morning?’

  What an odd question to ask. ‘I believe it was around eight.’ He didn’t need to know he was the reason she had got out of bed so late. Neither Mr Lane nor Harriet should have any idea she had been daydreaming about him this morning, thinking about the time she had spent sitting close beside him last night and replaying their conversations over and over in her mind.

  He continued to walk, coming up alongside of her this time. ‘I was not able to get out of bed this morning either. I’m usually up before the sun, but this morning I didn’t rise until closer to eight as well.’

  It would be wonderful to believe that he had been thinking about her this morning, but, knowing Mr Lane, she guessed his mind was probably on business.

  ‘Spending a late night out can truly make it hard to rise the next morning.’

  Harriet’s innocent comment as they strolled behind Humphrey made Mr Lane utter the funniest combination of a laugh and a cough before he caught himself and cleared his throat. Clara caught his eye and he quickly looked away. She tried to suppress a smile, knowing where his mind had gone.

  Harriet slipped away from them and walked over towards a flowerbed at the side of the path and bent to smell some of the roses. Clara’s eyes met his and they held for a few moments before he stepped closer to her. Their arms were almost touching. If she lifted a finger, she would be able to caress his and through her clothes it felt as if she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

  Once more she imagined his mouth on hers. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to kiss her. And when his gaze dropped to her lips, she was thinking that maybe he wanted to kiss her, too.

  The sound of two women chattering and moving around them on the gravel path was enough to break the spell and she looked over at her friend, who was still smelling the rose bushes.

  ‘That’s a Celsiana Damask rose,’ she called to Harriet while she adjusted her grip on Humphrey’s leash, needing something to do and say that would keep her focus away from Mr Lane’s mouth.

  ‘It’s so fragrant,’ Harriet replied, leaning in again to sniff it once more.

  ‘They use the petals to make perfume.’

  ‘I’m not surprised that you know that.’ His deep voice, not far from her ear, had broken her forced concentration on Harriet and sent a wonderful tingle up her spine. Did he have any idea of the effect he had on her?

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘You smell like them.’ The heat from his whispered breath caressed her neck.

  How she wished she could grab him by the collar and press their lips together. She wanted to kiss him. Right there. Right now. On this garden path. ‘Is that your polite way of telling me that I wear far too much perfume?’ There, that sounded composed.

  ‘Not at all. I like how you smell. It reminds me of being out in the garden on warm summer days.’

  And now she was thinking about being in his arms in a walled garden away from prying eyes on a warm summer day. The leash around Clara’s hand pulled against her skin and she realised that Humphrey was straining to get closer to Harriet. ‘Pardon me.’ She gave him an apologetic smile before letting Humphrey lead her over to Harriet. ‘Won’t you join us?’ she called back to him.

  Mr Lane remained on the pathway and shook his head. It felt as if he was half a world away from her as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Humphrey went to eat on
e of the roses and she pulled him back before he found his snout covered in thorns.

  ‘Come on, you. Back on the path you go.’

  She walked back with Harriet and found Mr Lane’s focus was now on her dog.

  ‘I need to go,’ he said, keeping his eyes on Humphrey.

  What? Now? I don’t want you to leave now.

  ‘Oh, of course.’

  ‘But we haven’t done the labyrinth.’ The tone in Harriet’s voice matched her confused expression. ‘We are here now. It’s just over there,’ she said, gesturing to the large thick wall of privet hedgerow that formed the outside of the maze.

  ‘There isn’t enough time.’

  ‘We can walk with you back to the gate.’ At least Harriet wasn’t pleading, which is how it probably would have come out if Clara had said it. But when he shook his head, it felt as if she could hardly breathe.

  If she had kissed him, would he have stayed?

  ‘That’s not necessary. Enjoy the gardens, ladies.’ Before either of them could reply he turned and walked away from them with the sound of the gravel crunching under his shiny boots.

  ‘Wait!’ she called out after him rather inelegantly and shoved Humphrey’s leash into Harriet’s hand.

  He stopped and slowly turned around as she walked quickly towards him. When she reached him, she realised Harriet had stayed behind.

  ‘You offered to help me train my dog.’

  A small smile was playing at the corners of his lips. ‘I did, didn’t I.’

  ‘You did. I even recall you offering to do so for free.’

  Raising his eyes skywards as if he was trying to recall making that offer, he folded his arms. ‘Are you sure that’s what I said?’

  ‘I am.’ Their eyes met again and she was so glad she had stopped him from walking away. ‘Will you help me?’

  He shoved his hands back into his pockets and lowered his head. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘We want different things. It’s best if we part ways.’

  ‘What things? What do you want?’

  He stepped closer. Since he was taller than she was and they were standing so close it was as if she was almost about to be wrapped in his arms before he lowered his voice so only she could hear. ‘I want to kiss you. And you want to match me with Miss Collingswood.’

  All she heard was that he wanted to kiss her.

  He glanced past her shoulder before looking back down at her. If Harriet was coming their way with Humphrey, she couldn’t tell by his expression. ‘I am not the kind of man one recommends to a young lady. You should know that. And more to the point, I still want to kiss you. Even now.’ His low voice rumbled through her body and she wanted to lean into him. ‘That’s why I am leaving.’

  ‘I wish you would stay.’

  ‘I know, but for all the wrong reasons.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  His eyes narrowed on her for a few heartbeats and he placed his lips by her ear. ‘The next time I see you, I’m going to kiss you. You want me to. I’ve seen it in your eyes.’

  When he lifted his head away from hers, the air slapped her neck where it had been warmed by his breath. Clara opened her mouth to reply, but she couldn’t think of any way to respond. Suddenly she felt Harriet’s presence at her side and Humphrey jumped up on Mr Lane’s leg.

  He rubbed Humphrey’s neck before he tipped the brim of his hat at her and walked away. She hadn’t given him her address. They hadn’t made any arrangements to see one another again. But deep inside she had no doubt that the next time she ran into him, he would make good on his promise.

  * * *

  The ride back to the Royal Crescent had been particularly quiet and Clara had spent most of it keeping an eye on Humphrey so that he didn’t jump out of the window from her lap. She didn’t want to look at Harriet. She couldn’t face the girl, knowing that Harriet liked Mr Lane.

  It was Harriet who finally broke the silence that stretched between them over the sound of the rolling carriage wheels on the cobblestone streets.

  ‘I am glad you went after him. His departure was so abrupt that it was unsettling.’

  Something outside the carriage must have caught Humphrey’s attention since he lifted his paws to the carriage window and let out a series of barks. ‘Humphrey, shush.’ He adjusted his hind legs on the jonquil fabric in her lap and barked at the window again.

  ‘Did he explain why he needed to leave so quickly?’

  ‘He had business to attend to.’

  ‘And that is all?’ Harriet didn’t sound as if she believed her.

  It had become apparent that Harriet was attracted to Mr Lane. Clara could tell that the moment they left the theatre last night when she came up with this plan on how to find him. She didn’t have the heart to crush Harriet’s hopes. Perhaps she should begin championing Mr Greeley.

  ‘Why are you so quiet?’ Harriet took Clara’s hand in a comforting gesture that under the circumstances felt like a punch in the chest. ‘I hope he didn’t say anything to upset you.’

  ‘No. He didn’t.’ Clara kept her eyes on Humphrey, not wanting to see Harriet’s concern for her. The young woman was truly lovely and had been ignored by men who were only interested in her sister. How could Clara put her through the same pain as well?

  ‘Please don’t worry, Clara. I’m certain he likes you. I can see it in the way he looks at you. I’m sure his leaving so abruptly had nothing to do with you.’

  Clara’s eyes snapped to Harriet. ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes. I hope I didn’t do anything to cause him to leave. I wasn’t certain how long I should stay behind when you went after him, but Humphrey kept pulling on the leash to go to you and I was afraid if I waited too long he might find a way to get loose again.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Harriet, you like Mr Lane.’

  ‘I do. I like him very much.’

  ‘You were the one who suggested we search for him today.’

  ‘Yes...’

  None of this was making any sense.

  Suddenly Harriet’s mouth opened and she looked as if she understood more of what was happening than Clara did. ‘Oh, you don’t think I have designs on Mr Lane for myself? He is positively ancient.’ As if she realised what she had said and how it would have related to Clara’s age, she looked down at her hands on her lap. ‘I don’t mean ancient exactly. What I mean is that Mr Lane is too old for me.’ She looked back up at her. ‘I like him well enough and he is attentive to me even though I can tell he just wants to keep staring at you. None of my sister’s suitors shows me that courtesy. Maybe that comes with age. I mean... I think he is perfect for you.’

  ‘For me? He is too young for me.’

  ‘That’s not possible. You two are probably the same age.’

  ‘No, Harriet, we aren’t. I think Mr Lane is almost ten years younger than I am.’

  ‘That can’t be. Are you certain you know what his age is?’

  ‘I am fairly certain.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t matter. I still think you are perfect for one another.’

  ‘I’m sure many people here in Bath would disagree.’

  ‘I doubt Mr Lane would. When will you see him again?’

  Clara shrugged with the words he whispered to her still echoing in her mind. ‘The next time I see you, I’m going to kiss you.’ It would be a long time before she forgot those words.

  ‘Do you know where he is staying?’ Harriet asked. ‘I thought I heard him mention The Fountain Head Hotel in town.’

  ‘He did. You seem to have developed a habit of paying close attention to what Mr Lane says.’

  ‘When you don’t talk very much, you learn to listen well when it matters. Are you going to see him again?’

  ‘He hasn’t arranged anything, if that is what you are asking
. But I do have a feeling that I will be seeing him again.’

  The question was, how soon?

  Chapter Fifteen

  When he arrived back at the coffee house, Lane was still incredibly frustrated by his encounter with Mrs Sommersby. He had been excited to see her in the park, yet it was becoming harder and harder to be in her presence without touching her.

  When she had moved away from him on the path and went down to Miss Collingswood, who was admiring the flower beds, Lane realised she was trying to bring attention to her friend—the very friend that the Dowager was attempting to match with Mr Greeley. He liked the girl well enough, but she was too young for him and she didn’t make him feel anything close to the things Mrs Sommersby did. No one in recent memory made him feel the things Mrs Sommersby did. She stimulated both his mind and body.

  Even now when she wasn’t in front of him, he wanted to kiss her with every fibre of his being—and he could tell there was a part of her that wanted him to. They had come too close to kissing, too many times, for him to misunderstand that look in her eyes.

  Thinking about her was doing him no good. He needed to concentrate on work. He needed to stop thinking about how much he loved the way she smelled...and talked...and would fit so perfectly in his arms if he ever got the chance to hold her.

  He needed to spend the day locked in his office, alone, reviewing those books from the stable. But as he walked down the dark corridor at the back of the shop and opened the door to his office, his plans fell apart when he spotted the Earl of Hartwick reclining back in Lane’s desk chair, with his booted feet on Lane’s large oak desk.

  Lane blinked to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I would think that was fairly obvious,’ Hart said, lowering his feet and sitting forward so his forearms were resting on the surface of the desk. ‘Where the hell have you been? It’s almost noon.’

  ‘I’ve been out.’ Lane pointed behind him with his thumb in the event Hart didn’t know where the front door to the coffee house was.