Free Bath Scandal by Joan Smith Page B

them all. I wonder if they have betting. Tannie told me his uncle Horatio made a monkey last year, then blew the lot on the last race. Gudgeon.”
    It seemed the only change in her demeanor due to her association with the duke was an increase in unladylike cant terms.
    “You should not use such language about your elders, Gillie,” Bea said.
    “I have heard Tannie call him worse names.”
    Gillie went to toss her bonnet and pelisse at the butler, and during her short absence, Bea whispered, “Jealousy” to Southam. When Gillie returned, Bea gave him a wink and said to Gillie, “This DuncanMcIvor, he would be Miss Althea McIvor’s brother, would he not?”
    “I believe so. Duncan has three sisters.”
    “The elder is married, and the younger is not out. It would be Althea that Tannie is interested in, I daresay.”
    Gillie looked at her with a sapient eye. “Not likely. She sits her mare like a bag of oats, jiggling all over.”
    Southam took over. “That may be of interest if he meant to hire Miss Althea as a jockey. I take it your meaning is that he has a tendre for her, Cousin?”
    “I expect so,” Bea said offhandedly. “She is monstrously pretty, with her blond curls and blue eyes. And so ladylike, don’t you think, Gillie?”
    “She is pretty enough,” Gillie said grudgingly.
    “I notice Tannie always stands up with her first at the waltzing parties.”
    “He asks me first,” Gillie shot back. “He’s an awful dancer.”
    “Such fripperies are important in a lady, but less so in a gentleman,” Southam said. “Naturally a gentleman wants his bride to appear to have all the social graces. Especially when he is so eligible as the duke. I daresay all the ladies are tossing their bonnets at him, eh Cousin?”
    “It is all the mothers talk of,” she agreed. “What a prime catch for some fortunate lady. Three vast estates, a large fortune, and, of course, one of the finest stables in the country.” She peered at Gillie as she named this last advantage.
    “I never heard Tannie complain of the girls bothering him,” Gillie objected.
    “Complain!” Bea laughed.
    Gillie saw nothing amiss in her choice of word, “I don’t think he is interested in Althea at all,” she said.
    “It would be gauche of him to praise another lady to you, Gillie,” Bea pointed out. “You tend to forget it, but you are a lady yourself. You won’t hear a whisper of the romance till Miss Althea comes flashing the diamond under your nose, crowing of her catch.”
    Gillie frowned and took up Southam’s cup without thinking. “I wonder if she is going to Bournemouth,” she said, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
    The two conspirators exchanged a triumphant glance. At least she recognized that competition was out there. Gillie sipped and put the cup down. “Are you drinking coffee in the middle of the morning, Rawl? You know Deborah doesn’t let you.”
    A slight flush colored his cheeks. “I do as I please,” he said.
    “Yes, when Deborah is not here to keep a sharp eye on you.” Gillie laughed. “Did you write her that you shan’t be home by Monday?”
    “Not yet. I’ll drop her a line before we leave.”
    “I’m glad we will get away before she hears, or she’d write forbidding it.”
    “Go and wash your face,” Southam said grimly. “You’re covered in dust. No wonder the duke has no interest in you.”
    “He has an interest in me. He calls on me more than anyone else.”
    “Aye, as a fellow horseman, but not as a suitor.”
    “What would I want a suitor for?” she riposted, and stalked out of the room.
    “That’s put a bee in her bonnet,” Southam said, and took up his cup to sip cold coffee. He was unhappy at the impression Gillie had left behind that he was completely under Deborah’s paw. Such nonsense! He did as he liked; it was just that Deborah was such a sensible lady and took such a strong interest in him and his family. He had never cared much for coffee anyway. As to Bournemouth, she