Return of the Runaway by Sarah Mallory Page A

waters.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘And many wealthy people who think they are sick enjoy living there, too, and pay high prices for dubious treatments. The doctors of Bath have grown fat giving out pills and placebos to the rich and privileged. It is not as fashionable as it once was, but it is still very pleasant with its concerts, and balls and the theatre, and all one’s friends in such close proximity. I lived there very happily with Grandmama until...’
    â€˜Until you met your husband?’
    â€˜Yes. I have not seen Bath for nearly eighteen months.’
    â€˜You must have had the very great love to elope with this man,’ he said. ‘To give up your family and friends, everything you knew.’
    He saw a shadow flicker across her eyes before she turned away from him.
    â€˜Yes.’
    * * *
    Cassie hurried across the room, giving Raoul no time to question her further. A very great love? It had been a very great foolishness. She had ignored Grandmama’s warnings and thrown her cap over the windmill. She had been in love with Gerald then. Or at least, she had thought herself in love, but the last few months had brought her nothing but pain and disillusion. She had learned that love could not make one happy, it was merely a device used by men to delude poor, foolish females. She had witnessed it often enough in Verdun, especially amongst Gerald’s friends. A gentleman would profess himself hopelessly in love, then as soon as he had seduced the object of his affection the passion would fade and he would move on to another lover. A salutary lesson and one she would never forget.
    Pushing aside the unwelcome thoughts, Cassie grasped the handles of the double doors and threw them wide, drawing in a sharp breath at the sight of the once-magnificent ballroom before her. ‘Oh, how wonderful it must have been to dance in a room such as this!’
    She wandered into the cavernous space. The walls were pale primrose with huge blocks of darker yellow where large paintings had once hung. Between the windows were gilded mirror frames, the glass shattered and glittering on the floor. At each end of the room four Italian-marble pillars rose up and supported a ceiling that was decorated with a glorious scene of cherubs playing hide-and-seek amongst white clouds.
    â€˜Oh, how I loved to dance,’ she murmured wistfully. ‘Grandmama took me to so many assemblies in Bath and it is one of the things I have missed most since my marriage. Gerald never took me to balls.’
    A wave of unhappiness washed over her, so suddenly that it took her by surprise. She pressed her clasped hands to her chest and was obliged to bite her lip to hold back a sob. It had been a shock to discover so recently that her husband had escorted plenty of other ladies to balls in Verdun. She was a fool to let it upset her now. Gerald could never resist a pretty woman. In the end that had been his downfall.
    * * *
    Raoul watched as sadness clouded her face and suddenly he was overwhelmed with the need to drive the unhappiness from her eyes. He stepped closer, saying recklessly,
    â€˜Then let us dance now.’
    She frowned at him. ‘I beg your pardon?’
    â€˜I say we should dance.’
    She laughed as he plucked the shawl from her shoulders and tossed it aside.
    â€˜But we have no music, monsieur .’
    â€˜I will sing for us.’ He took her hand. ‘What shall it be, the Allemande?’
    He started to hum a lively tune and bowed. Cassie looked a little bemused, but she followed his lead, singing along quietly as she twisted beneath his arm and stretched up to let him turn beneath hers. By the time they performed the rosette, holding both hands and twirling at the same time, she was giggling too much to sing. Raoul persevered, leading her through the dance steps again. He felt inordinately pleased that he had put that troubled look to flight and as they skipped and stepped and twirled about his