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and both times she was able to turn aside or slip away without seeing the man himself. From one exchange overheard in the corridor, she gathered he had left town, and although he kept his room at the York, the staff wasn’t sure he would return. She breathed a sigh of relief at the news. It had been a near miss, but now that worry was over and she could carry on with her business.
    Eugenie slowly recovered from her paralyzing fear that Tessa would humiliate them all and became her old self—which is to say she was a bit silly and inclined to fancy herself on the verge of illness, but sweet-tempered and anxious not to hinder Tessa. A visit to Molland’s sweet shop did a great deal to restore Eugenie’s humor, and an expedition to the Pump Room set her thoroughly to rights.
    “Such healing waters,” she exclaimed, even though she grimaced as she sipped them. “Tessa dear, you really should take a glass. One never knows what terrible maladies might await you in the countryside.”
    “I shall endure as best I can, without benefit of the waters.” Tessa had tasted the Bath waters before, and had no desire to repeat the experience. Eugenie, on the other hand, would try any remedy suggested to her. “I vow, that lady’s pelisse is a full six inches longer than last season. Do you think my sister would like it?” And the mineral waters were forgotten, as her companion was successfully diverted into a close study of every fashion in the room.
    After two days of shopping Tessa went down to the tearoom at the hotel. This was the real reason she had come to Bath; a canal was to be built some fifteen miles to the south, conveying coal from the mines between Mells and Coleford to Bath and then onward to London and other markets. There was already a prosperous canal in place, which would serve as a starting point for this new branch. The path was surveyed, the plans were drawn, and Tessa—or rather, her brother, Viscount Marchmont—had been invited to purchase shares in the new branch. William, as usual, was unsure. He was capable of seeing every side of every issue, and would never decide on anything if left to his own devices. Everyone agreed it was better to send Tessa to meet Hiram Scott, who was part owner of an ironworks near the proposed path of the canal and was heavily recruiting new investors. Tessa was never swayed by the exquisite cut of someone’s waistcoat, or even by a convincing prospectus; she had the practical—almost ruthless, her sister called it—turn of mind necessary to make wise investments, and the forthright demeanor vital to getting the truth.
    “Mrs. Neville.” Mr. Scott was waiting for her with a smile. They had met before, at her brother’s home, and Mr. Scott had displayed no reluctance to deal with a woman at that time. Of course, a very large investment hung on her decision, and he was under no illusions about that.
    “Mr. Scott.” She bobbed a brief curtsy in response to his bow, then took the seat he pulled out for her. “It is very good of you to meet me in Bath.”
    “I hope I might answer all your questions, ma’am, and spare you the trip south.” He seated himself opposite Tessa and laid a portfolio of plans in front of her. “The canal works are truly no place for a lady.”
    Tessa paused, glancing up at him through her eyelashes. “Do you object to a lady visiting, then?” William had been quite explicit that he was relying solely on her report to decide whether to purchase shares. If Mr. Scott had any qualms about opening his books to a woman, he might as well let her know now and spare them both the aggravation.
    “Not at all,” replied the man promptly—smoothly. “I wish only to spare my investors any inconvenience. It’s also my job to give a fair and accurate report of the works. I hope to do it well enough that not everyone feels the need to visit personally.” He lifted one shoulder, still smiling. “I daresay your visit would be far pleasanter for us, who