"What a delightful surprise, Lady Freyja," she said rather loudly, for the benefit of those around them. "I can think of no one I would more gladly welcome into the bosom of my family. I have always thought of dear Joshua as a son, you know." Her eyes were doing that needlepoint glare into Freyja's again.
"Thank you, ma'am," Freyja said. "I knew you would be happy for us."
"And my dear Joshua." The marchioness transferred her attention and her hands to her nephew. "What a naughty surprise, indeed. You would not confide in either your grandmother or your aunt?"
"I plucked up the courage to make Lady Freyja an offer during the waltz, Aunt," he said, "and she said yes. We were both so bubbling over with joy that we wanted everyone to share our happiness without any further delay. I thought you and Grandmama would appreciate the happy surprise."
The marchioness's smile did not falter. "Of course, dear," she said.
Mr. Darwin was bowing to Freyja then and requesting the next set of country dances with her. They were, after all, she realized, only two sets into the ball. There was much of the evening remaining. She smiled as she set her hand on his sleeve, remembering her resolve to cheer herself up by flirting with the Marquess of Hallmere tonight.
Well, she had done a great deal better than flirting. She had entered into a mock betrothal with him. Just for the sheer fun of it.
She was, she discovered, looking forward to the next few days with more exhilaration than she had looked forward to any day since she did not know when. At least they would take her mind off Alvesley and Kit's new son and the dreary state of her own life.
Joshua walked up to Lady Holt-Barron's house on the Circus late the following morning. He had avoided the Pump Room, especially as his grandmother had expressed her intention of remaining at home after the late night. But he had not succeeded in avoiding the issue that had kept him awake much of the night, alternately chuckling and breaking into a cold sweat.
His aunt had invited herself and Constance to breakfast, and she had joined enthusiastically in his grandmother's plan to host a large betrothal party at Great Pulteney Street one week hence.
"I cannot tell you how delighted I am, Joshua," his aunt had said, "that you have decided to settle down at last. Though I daresay you will wish to take your bride traveling on the Continent for a year or two after the nuptials, now that the wars are over."
"I sensed Lady Freyja was the right woman for you from the first moment," his grandmother had agreed before laughing. "Well, from almost the first moment. You will never find life dull with her, Joshua."
Constance had found a moment to have a private word with him.
"Thank you, Joshua," she had said. "How quickly you thought and acted! But I do hope you did not offer for Lady Freyja Bedwyn only to thwart Mama. It would be unfair, would it not? I do not think she is ugly. I think she is distinguished and handsome. But, even so, she must have feelings to be hurt."
"Lady Freyja and I understand each other perfectly well," he had assured her. "We share the same enjoyment of a good lark."
"Ah," she had said. "It is not a real betrothal, then. I suspected as much. But I am rather sorry. I cannot help thinking, as your grandmother does, that she is perfect for you."
His aunt was planning to stay for at least another week, then, he thought ruefully as he strode up the steep incline of Gay Street. He had not expected her to stay so long. Neither had he expected his grandmother to insist upon a grand party. This betrothal business might yet prove a deuced embarrassment-and perhaps fun too, he admitted. That was the word she had used, was it not?
He knocked on the door of the house on the Circus, was admitted by a smirking housekeeper who had clearly heard the news-had anyone in Bath not?-and was taken up immediately to a sitting room where the ladies were gathered, mother and daughter looking as if they had just recently returned from an outing.
Lady Holt-Barron beamed at him and her daughter smiled. Lady Freyja looked wary.
"I have come to invite Lady Freyja to walk with me," he said after the first pleasantries had been exchanged.
She got to her feet after folding a letter she must have been writing at the escritoire.
"I need some fresh air," she said.
"And today, Lady Freyja," her hostess said with a broad smile, "you do not need any chaperone while walking with your betrothed."
A few minutes later they were striding back down Gay Street, not touching-she had refused to take his arm.
"You were writing to your family?" he asked her. "Breaking the glad tidings?"
"Doing no such thing," she said. "I was writing to my sister, as I do most days. I was describing the assembly to her-part of the assembly, at least."
"But you were omitting the insignificant detail of your betrothal being announced during it, no doubt," he said, grinning. She was looking out of sorts this morning.
"Exactly," she said. "They need not know. In a day or two's time we will be free to put an end to this foolishness. Your aunt will leave Bath, severely disgruntled, I sincerely hope, and then I can either have an announcement made or else you can leave too and I can go home soon after and no more need ever be said on the matter."
"Do you really believe it is going to be as simple as that, sweetheart?" he asked, chuckling.
They had reached the bottom of the hill and were winding their way toward the Abbey and the river beyond it. The sun was shining, though the breeze was fresh.
"Of course it will," she said with brisk confidence.
"My grandmother is even now planning a grand betrothal party for next week," he said.
She grimaced. "Then we must both leave Bath before then," she said.
"It would be unsporting," he told her, touching the brim of his hat in acknowledgment of a couple they were passing. "All the invitations are being sent out today."
"Dammit," she said.
He laughed out loud. He had never before heard a lady utter such a word. He wondered if she had other such gems in her vocabulary and guessed she probably did.
"And my aunt has decided to stay for the party," he told her.
She stopped walking and looked at him severely as if he were to blame-as to a certain extent, of course, he was.
"Double dammit," she said. "You appear to be enjoying yourself enormously."
"I cannot help remembering," he said as they resumed their walk, "that things were looking grim last evening and that my aunt might just as easily have trapped me into announcing my engagement to Constance. I would far prefer to have you."
"I am overwhelmed," she said haughtily.
"Because you can be shed after a week or so," he said.
"Like a worn coat," she retorted.
"Unless you choose to hold me to the promise, of course," he said, "and make me marry you."
"Heaven forbid," she said.
"Will feigning a betrothal to me and a romantic fondness for me for a whole week be quite anathema to you?" he asked. "Culminating in a grand party and then freedom and sanity again? Last evening you thought it might all be fun."
"Last evening I did not think at all," she said. She looked at him assessingly as they reached the river and turned by unspoken consent in the direction of the Pulteney Bridge. "However, life in Bath is excruciatingly dull under normal circumstances."
"It is," he agreed. "Shall we agree, then, to enjoy the less-than-normal-or more-than-normal-circumstances that the next week promises?"
She smiled slowly at him, the same slightly reckless light in her eyes that had appeared there last evening when he had asked her as a kind of joke if she would care to enter into a fake betrothal with him.
"Since it would appear that the week must be endured anyway," she said, "we might as well enjoy it, I suppose. Where are we going?"
"Sydney Gardens?" he suggested. "It is rather far away, but not too far a walk for you, I seem to remember. I may even be able to find another serving girl there being accosted by a squirrel and impress my betrothed by rescuing her."
"No, not the Gardens," she said. "Beechen Cliff. I have heard that it is a steep climb but that the view from the top is quite spectacular. I wish to go there."
"Good," he said.
At least dancing attendance upon Lady Freyja Bedwyn for the next week was not going to be boring. He had intended being on his way from Bath this morning. He was not on the whole sorry for the excuse to spend more time in her company. He found her amusing-and increasingly attractive.
Freyja did not play fair. She had done the Marquess of Hallmere an enormous favor, and she exacted payment in any way she could devise over the week following their betrothal announcement.
It was true that the Pump Room still had to be endured most mornings and the occasional concert or play or card party during the evenings. But she really did not mind those activities very much. At least the obligatory stroll in the Pump Room got everyone up and moving at a decent hour of the morning, and she enjoyed good music and lively acting and even the occasional game of cards. It was the rest of each day that had always been unbearably tedious.
Now the tedium was gone.
Each day she dragged the marquess off walking or riding. They clamored up Beechen Cliff that first day and up Beacon Hill and across the fields to the village of Charlcombe another day. They walked to the village of Weston one afternoon. They rode up Lansdown Hill and to Claverton Down. Even on the day it rained steadily from morning until evening she insisted upon riding as far as the village of Keynsham halfway to Bristol. Having a betrothed, she quickly discovered, was quite as good as having one of her brothers resident in Bath, since Lady Holt-Barron put up no protest about the propriety of their going off alone together so often.
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