Both ladies looked quite stunning. Heads were turning as Jessica and Susan exited the cab and entered the Theater Royal lobby. Of course, everyone recognized Jessica—a London doyenne. But whispers ran through the theater goers as they tried to identify who Susan was.

Jessica had had her personal maid do Susan’s hair. And, as she was very skilled, she’d gently enhanced Susan’s natural beauty.

“Bunny! Sally!” Jessica called out, as her two friends approached from across the lobby.

Bunny was Bertram Clyde, Ronald’s solicitor, and Sally was his wife.

Bunny laughed and said, “Jessica, my dear, you’re as brown as a side of roast beef. Where ever have you been?”

“Hasn’t Sally told you of our continental travels?”

“By Jove, she has not. But I do seem to remember Ronald speaking to me about a European jaunt some weeks back.”

Jessica introduced Susan, who, taking Jessica’s advice, said mostly nothing.

“Is this the extent of our party?” Jessica asked.

“Oh, no, our box seats six. One more couple has yet to arrive. However, I believe they are to be late,” Sally said. “Oh, shall we have a glass of champagne before?” She turned to Bunny for confirmation.

“If I start the evening with champagne I shall fall asleep before the end of the first act. Let’s save it for the interval, shall we? Second acts usually bore me silly and I’ll be good and ready for a nice snooze just about then.”

“Very well, then. Let’s take our seats?” Jessica suggested.

Susan was very excited as they were ushered to their box. She had been to the theater before, but only as a child when her school went to a panto—a Christmas pantomime—as a special treat.

But this was a totally different experience. It was elegant. It was sophisticated. It was grownup. She could hardly believe she was swimming in all this brightness.

As the house lights dimmed, Jessica offered Susan a chocolate from a box she had purchased in the lobby. Susan took one and passed the box on to the others.

The curtain rose and the play began. It wasn’t an operetta but there was an orchestra in the pit playing accompanying music that supported the action.

Susan became completely caught up in the action of the play, about a playboy prince. She barely noticed the other couple that finally arrived and took their seats. Susan glanced over but it was too dark, and she could not make out the couple’s faces.

When the first act was over, Susan applauded loudly in happy support for the actors’ fine performances.

As the house lights came up, Jessica turned to Susan and asked, “Are you enjoying the play?”

“Oh, very much so. What a splendid evening. Thank you.”

“Shall we stretch our legs? And would you enjoy a glass of champagne now?”

“Yes, I would.”

Jessica and Susan stood, as did Bunny and Sally. The new couple was turned away and didn’t seem inclined to go to the lobby with them.

Susan forgot her resolve to simply say nothing and she babbled on about the play.

Bunny and Sally brought Jessica and Susan their glasses of champagne.

Susan looked around the beautiful lobby. It was ornate, with sparking chandeliers, plush red drapes with gold swags, and the royal crest above the entrance to the auditorium. There was nothing like this in the Kent countryside and she continued to be amazed at the wonders of London.

Susan was so lost in admiration she didn’t see the other couple from their box approach.

But she heard Sally say, “Susan I’d like to introduce you to our other guests.”

Susan turned and was stunned to see Simon standing before her.

Sally continued, “This is Mr. Simon Chamberlain and his guest, Miss Leticia Cresswell of Bristol. And this is Miss Susan Wilton and Mrs. Jessica Bradley.”

Neither Simon nor Susan said a word, but just stared at each other.

Finally, Simon said, “Yes, we have met previously.”

Susan’s head was swimming. She could barely catch her breath. She saw Jessica blanch, as she figured out that this was the Simon who had jilted Susan.

Susan gathered her wits and nodded. “Mr. Chamberlain, Miss Cresswell. Is it not a marvelous play?”

Simon scowled and seemed to be nervous. “Indeed, Miss Wilton, most engaging.”

Jessica reached over and took Susan by the arm. She leaned in and whispered, “Do you want to leave?”

Susan turned and looked at her. “I think not. It would be most amusing to see what happens in the second act, don’t you think?”

Jessica smiled. “Why Susan Wilton, what a quick study you are. Soon all of London shall be at your feet.”

But despite her bravado, inside Susan was still in turmoil. She had no idea what she should say to Simon—if anything. Then she got the nerve to look at him again. She could see that he was similarly affected, but besides registering shock, he also looked ashamed. He looked like a little boy who’d eaten too many green apples.

Bunny spoke up, “Miss Susan, did you know that Mr. Chamberlain here is also from Kent? Is that how you know each other?”

“Yes, it is. Although our paths diverged some time ago,” Susan replied.

Susan suddenly felt the need to speak with Simon and she turned to him.

“Mr. Chamberlain, might we step aside for a moment? I should like to have a few words.”

“If you like,” he said.

Bunny then asked, “Miss Cresswell, might I fetch you a glass of refreshment?”

“That would be lovely,” she answered.

Susan and Simon walked aside.

“So you did go to London,” Susan started by saying. “How are you keeping yourself these days? You certainly must have run through the money you stole from your brother by now, no?”

“I am in business with a few chaps.”

“What kind of business?” she asked forcefully.

“Import-export.”

“That sounds suspiciously vague. Have you ever repaid your brother for what you stole from him?”

Simon shook his head but could not look at her and, while he was nervous, he did not look too deeply troubled.

“I only took what was rightfully mine. Our father didn’t leave me a penny when he died. And John refused to share any of his inheritance with me. I had no choice.”

“But you didn’t understand that upon our marriage he was to bestow a living upon you?”

Simon looked dumbfounded. “He was? No that can’t be. He never said a word to me about that. And when I begged him for help he refused.”

“He told me he wanted it to be a surprise,” Susan said. “He confided that to me the day of our wedding when you ran away.”

“Oh, Susan, what a fool I’ve been.” Simon ran his hand through his blond curls, and Susan realized once again what a handsome man he was—though he looked decidedly more haggard than when she’d seen him the last time.

“And I know I owe you an apology, and I don’t know where to begin.”

“It’s pointless, Simon. I’ve moved on.”

“But you know I loved you…”

“No, you didn’t. You loved yourself, and somehow I made you feel better about that.”

“But I still think about you,” he said.

Susan laughed. “You are such a rascal, Simon. Move on.”

She turned away and went back to the party just as the gong was ringing for the beginning of the second act. Susan took Jessica’s arm and they headed for the box.

* * *

“What was it like, seeing him again?” Jessica asked as they headed home in the cab after the play. They’d excused themselves from going on to supper, as both Susan and Jessica thought it would be too much to break bread at the same table with Simon and Leticia.

“It was a total shock at first,” Susan said, “but then I got angry and wanted to give him holy hell.”

“Oh, my. You are something else, Susan Wilton. I am so glad you’re my cousin. What fun. This is going to make a delicious story and, of course, Bunny and Sally had no idea what was going on. I can’t wait to tell them the whole story.”

“After I’ve gone, please. I don’t want pitiful looks from all your friends until the time I leave.”

Jessica leaned back in the seat of the cab and stared out the window. “So, what would you like to do tomorrow? Something wicked and fun.”

“What do you suggest?”

Jessica thought for a moment. “I know, let’s go to Bath and stay for a few days. We can drink the waters and take a mud bath and meet lots of charming, young men—for you, of course. And I shall play the dowager and sip tea and take medicinal sherry and gossip with the best of the old ladies.”

“Oh, Jessica, there’s absolutely nothing old about you at all—you are simply married.”

“Well, it’s practically the same thing.”

They both laughed.

“Then Bath it shall be,” Susan announced. She was surprised at how much better she felt after finally meeting and dismissing Simon. She felt renewed and, indeed, ready for a mud bath.

* * *

Bath was the playground for the aristocracy and those who wished they were. Idle folk flocked to Bath beginning in the eighteenth century when it became fashionable to see and be seen. It was particularly popular with gentlemen looking for a wealthy wife, and ladies looking for a titled bachelor. However, both were in short supply, and the daily promenade at the Grand Pump Room usually left many frustrated and scampering off to console themselves with a lavish supper at one of the au courant tap rooms or more gentile restaurants.

The Bradley’s had a flat in The Circus—a crescent of stylish eighteenth century homes that were particularly popular with the London crowd.

They drove up from London in the family carriage. Jessica had sent Lowell and several staff members ahead to prepare for their arrival.

“Welcome, my ladies,” Lowell said in greeting, as they entered the flat. “Did you have a pleasant journey?”

“We did, thank you. And I believe we are quite ready for some tea in the sitting room.”

“Yes, Madam.”

“So where do we start,” Susan asked, as she collapsed back into an overstuffed sofa and stuck her legs out before her, cramped after the long carriage ride.

“I believe we shall begin by going around to several ‘at-homes’ tomorrow morning. We shall announce our arrival and within hours all of fashionable Bath will know we are in residence. And with you, as my mystery guest—and such a pretty treat—all the eligible bachelors will be flocking to see you when we take a turn at the Pump Room promenade tomorrow afternoon.”

“It sounds exhausting. Is there anything else to do but parade around town? What about the mud bath you promised me? That sounds much more relaxing.”

“That will probably be day two or three when we want to play hard to get after we have whetted all their appetites for our company. Let them come begging. And they shall not have us unless they are very special.” Jessica laughed at her own mirth, as Lowell came in with the tea tray.

* * *

They dined in that evening and rested up after their journey. Susan excused herself early and went to her room to read. It was nice to have a quiet moment to herself. It seemed to be non-stop activity since she first arrived in London.

And this was the first time she’d been able to reflect on her meeting with Simon. It’d been a shock, but it was also a relief when she realized she no longer had any feelings at all for him.

When she awoke the next morning it was sunny and bright. There’d been a brief storm during the night that had swept away yesterday’s lingering clouds and cleared the air.

Susan had absolutely no expectations about meeting any young men of interest during her stay in Bath but approached these next few days with the idea of having fun and enjoying her cousin’s company.

Their first stop of the morning was at the home of Mrs. Stephanie Newman, the widow of the Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire Newmans, famous for their lines of fine pottery.

Susan realized, quite early on, that the morning, and the visits, would consist of endless chit chat and spurious gossip, of which, she had no understanding or interest.

It was all she could do to keep from yawning several times. Jessica, however, seemed to be having a wonderful time. She was chatty and intimate and the center of much of the morning’s attention.

Leaving the last house and heading to luncheon, Susan said, “Oh, Jessica, how do you do it?”

“Do what, precious?”

“Chat, chat, chat. I nearly collapsed with fatigue after the second visit. I felt like I’d been running all day.”

Jessica laughed. “I was priming the pump. Fear not, we’re done with the visits. I just wanted to be seen and announce our arrival. And, if you must know, everyone thought you were marvelously mysterious because you spoke so little. I hinted that you are some foreign prince’s daughter come to find a husband. Now all of Bath shall be following your every move. There won’t be a single bachelor in all of southwest England who won’t come calling.”

“Oh, Jessica, that sounds deplorable. I’m a simple Kent school teacher. How wicked of you to lead these folks on so.”

With a wave of her hand, Jessica dismissed Susan’s concerns. “It’s all a game, my dear. None of it’s real. After we’ve gone in a few days no one will remember us, and a whole new set of players will have taken the stage.”

“Exhausting. Simply exhausting,” Susan sighed.

The whole point of this morning’s exercise was to get the fashionable population of Bath to come searching for them at the afternoon promenade at the Grand Pump Room—a large room where Bath’s healing waters were available for sipping. But in reality, the room was a magnet for society to gather, promenade, and be seen. Assignations were arranged, and many a romantic hopeful sought to find their perfect mate.

Jessica insisted they be late. The gathering usually began about four and lasted until about six. Jessica estimated that ten past five would be the perfect time to make an entrance after the anticipation of their arrival was at its height.

They could swoop in, meet a few of the most prominent, and sweep out again, leaving the hungry crowd yearning for more.

They arrived at their planned time. The Pump Room was a large rectangular room, at least two stories high, with alcoves at both ends, and large windows on one side of the room overlooking a courtyard.

There was a large assemblage this afternoon—no doubt as a result of the anticipation of seeing Jessica and Susan. In general, there were two circles of folks promenading—one, of gentlemen going clockwise, and the other, of ladies going counterclockwise. Older folks, children, and married couples tended to stand away at the sides, sipping mineral water or sitting at tables having tea.

The younger gentlemen were clustered together in groups, whispering comments on the passing ladies. And the ladies hid their mouths behind a fan if they wanted to make a comment to a companion.

Jessica and Susan made several circles of the room, nodding and acknowledging smiles, but, as of yet, not engaging in any conversations.

The young men craned their necks, looking back at Susan after they passed by. Jessica took note, and said, “You have many admirers, Susan. If you see any gentleman you’d like to speak with let me know and I’ll make an introduction.”

“Jessica, this is a totally pointless exercise. Once these young men find out who I really am, they’ll flee like a flock of chickens from a hawk.”

Jessica laughed. “Yes, you’re probably right. But we’re here for a dalliance, not a romance. Just enjoy yourself and accept the admiration.”

Susan sighed.

As they were beginning their third circuit of the room Susan happened to look over at a tea table in the corner of the room. And sitting at that table was Aunt Clarissa and John Chamberlain.