‘Indeed. Is it loaded?’ Ivo said calmly. He sounded like a man attempting to talk someone down off a high ledge.
‘Of course it is. I think. But, naturally it is not cocked.’ She studied it, lower lip caught between her teeth. ‘At least, now I come to look at it, I am not certain.’
‘If you were to remove your finger from the trigger, turn it away from its current aim at the middle of my chest and hand it to me, I will check.’
She surrendered the little weapon into Ivo’s large hand where it looked even more like a toy.
‘Not cocked and unloaded, praise be to whatever guardian angel looks after rackety young women. Do you have powder and bullets for it?’
‘No.’
Rackety young women indeed! On consideration she rather liked the sound of it. It sounds positively dashing...
‘Then what was the point of bringing it?’
Ivo did not quite say, Foolish chit, but, judging by his expression, it was a near run thing.
‘It made you wary enough,’ she retorted. ‘I should have thought it would make a highwayman think twice about attacking me.’
‘Certainly it would. He would hesitate long enough to decide whether to club you over the head as a nuisance or break your wrist to make you drop it. Where the devil did you get such a thing?’
‘My Uncle Giles gave it to Mama one Christmas. I think it was a joke and she would not dream of using it, but I knew where it was and thought it might be useful. And do not roll your eyes at me! What was I supposed to do if we were waylaid? Have Billing glare at them?’
‘That would probably have been more effective, especially as you were unable to produce it in Kensington.’
That was unfortunately true. Perhaps a rackety lifestyle would not suit her after all.
‘And what will you do if we are waylaid, might I ask?’ she asked.
‘It is highly unlikely to occur. If someone did attempt it and the postilion was unable to outrun them, then I imagine there are slim pickings here.’
‘There is my jewellery in my dressing case and more than twenty pounds in my reticule. You might consider that slim pickings, but I do not.’
‘I agree, losing the money would be exceedingly inconvenient and I suggest that you hide fifteen pounds under one of the seat squabs immediately. But a young lady’s trinkets are hardly likely—’
‘Um...’
‘Um? Why does that fill me with foreboding? What have you stolen from your unfortunate parents?’
‘Nothing whatsoever.’ Jane was indignant. ‘The diamond parure and the pearl set are both mine, left to me by Great-Grandmama. I took them up to London because I wanted to have them valued. When I had asked Papa he said I should not worry my head about them and that, even you must agree, was an infuriating thing to say.’
‘Must I? And why should you need them valued?’
‘I was not certain, then,’ she admitted. ‘The idea of living independently and painting was just wishful thinking because I never expected that I would have the opportunity, not for years until Mama accepted that I was completely on the shelf and despaired of me. But now I know I want to sell the jewellery in order to set up my studio. It was only yesterday, talking to you, that I realised that going to Bath was the perfect opportunity to make what had been a daydream into reality.’
She rather thought she heard an ironic mutter of, ‘Despair? The very word.’
‘Anyway, it was only a dream and a plan for the future, but then here I am, being sent off to Batheaston—
which is right on the doorstep of Bath which must be an excellent place to obtain commissions, even if it is not the height of fashion any longer. Just think of all those moneyed people who retire there, all wanting elegant trifles to spend their money on.’
‘Have you considered precisely how you, an unknown female, are to attract the attention of these eager, wealthy clients?’
‘I thought about it last night.’ The details were somewhat cloudy this morning and she had to concentrate hard to present her plan concisely. ‘I intend to rent a very small shop in a select street and create a tasteful window display—just one portrait on an easel with artistic draperies and a notice—in gilt, I thought, in a flowing script—Portraits by X. Enquire within. And I will have my studio inside. I will have to have my new name decided before then, of course.’ She smiled at him, warmed by the happy vision. ‘All I need are one or two commissions to start with and then word of mouth will do the rest.’
Ivo did not smile back. ‘That is insanity.’
‘No, it is not. Why are you being so discouraging?’