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regularity. Of course, a woman of Miss Townsend's station in life would not be faced with the normal distractions of fashion and Town gossip. Robert responded politely to her questions regarding the assassin's trial at the Old Bailey, which had been in progress when he had left Town. She also asked his opinion of Lord Liverpool and the implications of his possible appointment by the Regent. Robert was further confounded by this intriguing woman to recognize subtle Whig tendencies in her comments. The mystery of Miss Townsend deepened.
    Robert was unable to probe this mystery any further as Sir Percy Whittaker and Lord Hargreaves were announced. Both gentlemen were longtime acquaintances of the dowager and loyal members of her Bath coterie. Each made a beeline to her side to pay his compliments. Lord Hargreaves was first on the spot, offering the dowager a brief salute on each cheek. She spoke a few fond words to the handsome silver-haired viscount before she turned to greet her other guest.
    Sir Percy, a short, stocky gentleman with longish gray hair and gold-rimmed spectacles, reached for the dowager's outstretched hand, which he brought to his lips. "Frances, my dear," he said, "it is, as always, a pleasure. You look quite smart this evening." The dowager nodded in acknowledgment of his compliment. Turning to Miss Townsend, he grasped that lady's hand as well, also bringing it to his lips. "Emily, my girl. I look forward to another delightful evening of your scintillating conversation."
    Miss Townsend smiled at the older man, who, Robert couldn't help but notice, held her hand a little longer than was absolutely proper. He then turned to Robert, bowing crisply. "Lord Bradleigh. What a pleasant surprise to find you in Bath once again. It has been some time since we last met."
    More pleasantries were exchanged while sherry was passed around. When dinner was announced, Robert offered his arm to his grandmother, Lord Hargreaves escorted Mrs. Chenowith, and Sir Percy escorted Emily. This left Major Chenowith unpartnered, and although he seemed unconcerned, the dowager was obviously uncomfortable, as she found uneven numbers extremely vulgar.
    Anatole's delicacies were enhanced by the lively conversation and witty repartee of all diners, made easier by the unusual round table. Dining in this intimate setting precluded adherence to the standard dining room proprieties. It was almost impossible to limit conversation to the person at one's side. Indeed, there was much general conversation across table. Robert noted that Miss Townsend, though soft-spoken and polite, was actively included in most conversations. He particularly noted that Sir Percy, whom he had known for years as one of his grandmother's ubiquitous swains, appeared on this evening to have more interest in Miss Townsend. The normally inscrutable baronet was positively oozing warmth as he conversed with her. Had this aging roué developed a tendre for his grandmother's companion? Poor Miss Townsend, he thought. He kept an eye open for hints that Miss Townsend had also set her cap for the older man, but he saw nothing more than friendly civility and restrained amusement.
    Sir Percy shot Robert a look at one point that made it clear he was aware of Robert's scrutiny.
    After dinner the gentlemen immediately joined the ladies in the drawing room, foregoing their usual port at the insistence of the dowager. She deplored the standard practice of postprandial segregation and refused to sanction it in her own home. She felt that the ladies should not have to be deprived of the gentlemen's company, just so the gentlemen might drink port, smoke cigars, and tell bawdy stories. She saw no reason why they could not share these activities with the ladies.
    Robert lagged behind a bit and waited to see how the other six would arrange themselves about the room. He accepted a glass of port from Barnes and casually roamed the room, surveying the others. The dowager claimed her favorite