A March Bride (3 page)

But she
’
d been so committed to her plan to marry him that Susanna had refused to see the truth. They were
not
right for each other.

Well, she refused to be so naive this time. If she and Nathaniel had wandered down a dark romantic dead end, then she
’
d be the one to turn on the light.

However, she
’
d not give up just yet. She joined the conversation, turning to face Nathaniel.
“
Since clearly you lived, I suppose you found a way out of this bear collision?
”
Susanna stepped closer to her fiancé, sending a signal to Lady Genevieve to back off. Susanna was the one wearing Nathaniel
’
s ring.

“
Yes, I managed to calculate an escape.
”

“
Escape?
”
Nigel laughed.
“
Susanna, he performed a feat only Houdini would attempt. To the right there was a thick stand of trees. An option worse than running into the bear. Trees don
’
t frighten and run off. To the left
”
—Nigel arched
his hand through the air—
“
was a tumble over the side of the mountain with a straight drop down to the rocks.
”

“
I had no choice but to ski into the bear,
”
Nathaniel said.

“
You really skied
into
the bear?
”
Susanna smiled, searching his expression for truth. For hope.

“
Not exactly. As I whisked closer and closer, going faster and faster, I started yelling for the bear to move, but he merely stared at me as if I annoyed his sleepy thoughts. I braced for impact when I hit one of nature
’
s moguls and—
”
Nathaniel whistled, slicing his hand through the air.

“
He went airborne,
”
Nigel said.

“
You jumped the bear?
”
Susanna liked the mental image of a young prince soaring through the air, his regal, chiseled features cutting through the icy breeze as he hurdled a sleepy, hungry winter bear.

“
Cleared him by a good four feet,
”
Nigel said.

“
It was spectacular. You should
’
ve seen it.
”
Genevieve
’
s tone carried a subtle reminder.
I
’
m a part of Nathaniel
’
s inner circle, and you, Susanna, are an interloper.
“
We sat around the fire talking of it all night.
”

“
Say, Nig, didn
’
t Hampsted film it with his camera?
”
Morton snapped his fingers, remembering.
“
He was always sticking that thing in our faces.
”

“
By George, I believe he did.
”
Nigel stretched, searching over their heads.
“
He
’
s round here somewhere with his new wife. Ah, there he is . . . Hammie.
”

Nigel and Lord Michael scurried off to hound Hammie about his home movie while the distinguished Henry Montgomery, Brighton
’
s former prime minister, approached Nathaniel.

“
Pardon, Your Majesty, might I have a word?
”
He bowed slightly, then smiled at Susanna.
“
You are looking lovely as ever, Susanna.
”

“
Thank you, Henry.
”

“
Excuse me, darling.
”
Nathaniel turned to Susanna.
“
I
’
ll return momentarily.
”

Susanna watched him walk off with Henry, their heads bent together. What could Henry want in private at a garden party honoring the king and his future bride?

The unease in Susanna
’
s heart surfaced and burned. Did Henry want to discuss something about Brighton? About Nathaniel? Or maybe his upcoming marriage?

Perhaps it had to do with Nathaniel
’
s mother. In public, Henry was the former prime minister. In private, he was Nathaniel
’
s stepfather, married to his mum, the Dowager Queen Campbell. They wed last July after the one-year anniversary of King Leopold V
’
s death.

Susanna scanned the atrium garden for Campbell, who was unmistakable in a bright yellow spring dress with a matching coat, shoes, and hat. Once she had taken off her mourning clothes, nothing but bright colors would do. The press was starting to notice, calling her Colorful Campbell.

“
So,
”
Lady Genevieve began, interrupting Susanna
’
s thoughts.
“
Your wedding dress. We
’
re all dying to see it.
”
She wrinkled her nose. First at Susanna, then Winnie, Blythe, and Lady Ruthie.
“
Aren
’
t we? I don
’
t suppose I could get a sneak peek?
”

Susanna marveled at the woman
’
s boldness. Asking to see her gown like they were best friends. They hardly knew each other, and Susanna trusted her about as much as sticking her
hand into a dark hole in the ground. Never knew what might bite back.

“
I
’
m afraid not.
”
Susanna gazed past Lady Genevieve
’
s slender shoulder, eyes fixed on Nathaniel
’
s back, his dark suit accenting his wide shoulders.
“
The designer and I are bound by an agreement of mutual exclusivity.
”

“
Really? Merry Collins made you sign an exclusivity?
”

“
I offered, if you must know. I wasn
’
t going to require something of her I was not willing to take on myself.
”

Genevieve arched her brow.
“
She must love you.
”

“
We have a mutual respect,
”
Susanna said, irritated by this conversation. Irritated by the fact Nathaniel seemed to be in some sort of deep discussion with Henry—indicated by his pinched brow and squinting eyes. What was going on? This was supposed to be a party. A joyous celebration of their upcoming wedding.

Instead, Susanna felt a certain dread.

Nathaniel shoved back his jacket as he anchored his hands in his pockets. A sure sign he was frustrated. Annoyed. His signature move—hands in his pockets—was considered ill form in Parliament and at state events, so he
’
d broken the habit. Except in moments like now.

He nodded once. Then glanced back at Susanna.

Something was definitely wrong.

“
. . . do you think you
’
ll work, Susanna?
”

She switched her gaze to Winnie.
“
Work? Yes, as time allows. I
’
ve been consulting with AGH Partners, landscaping a new garden in tribute to King Leo.
”

“
Fantastic. Good for you. I always think the wife of the king should have a job, you know, hold on to her own identity.
”

Hold on to her own identity? Winnie had no idea of what she spoke. Susanna had
long
given up on such an idea. She
’
d all but lost her identity the moment she said yes to Nathaniel and moved four thousand miles away to Brighton.

The only thing that remained of her was her American heritage. Which the press loved to point out.

A woman with a large pink hat stopped to talk to Lady Genevieve, but kept one eye on Susanna as they whispered and laughed.

Never mind. Nathaniel was coming her way, so Susanna excused herself.

“
Nathaniel, what
’
s going on?
”

His gaze communicated a raw, vivid fear. As if he were about to do something he didn
’
t want to but must.

Yep, she felt his cold glance all the way to her bone marrow. He was dumping her. Adam had the same look on his face that stormy afternoon on the beach.

“
I
’
ve something to tell you.
”
He hooked his hand around her elbow and steered her toward the open French doors.

“
You
’
re scaring me.
”
She walked with him, her strength draining.

“
Your Majesty!
”
The party director hurried toward them with determined strides, waving her clipboard in the air.
“
We
’
re ready for the formal pictures now.
”

“
Thank you, Mrs. Janis.
”
Nathaniel sighed, looking down at Susanna.
“
We
’
ll talk after this.
”

No, no, she couldn
’
t take it anymore.
“
We
’
ll talk right now. What is going on with you?
”

“
Susanna, please—
”
He smiled at Mrs. Janis, who waited
with a frozen smile.
“
Let
’
s get the photograph. The Chadweths went to a great deal of effort to have this party for us.
”

“
What
’
s the point of this party or a photograph if you
’
re breaking up with me?
”

“
We
’
ll be right over here, Your Majesty.
”
Mrs. Janis backed up, pointing to the corner of the atrium where marble fountains spewed crystal water from angel wings.

“
Just say it.
”
She became forthright when she was nervous. With Adam, she used their twelve-year history to launch an argument, but she only had eighteen months with Nathaniel. Ten of which they spent apart.
“
You regret proposing to me.
”

“
I what?
”
Nathaniel reared back.
“
What are you talking about, Susanna?
”

“
Well, do you? You
’
re distracted and distant. You
’
ve stopped talking to me about your life. You hardly smile or laugh when we
’
re together.
”

“
I realize that government business has gotten in the way a bit, yes.
”

“
This is not about government business. Look, I
’
ve been dumped before, Nathaniel. I
’
m aware of the signs.
”

“
Susanna, I am not Adam Peters.
”

“
Then what?
”
She grabbed his arm.
“
Do you think it
’
s not going to work with me as your wife? Are you sorry—
”

“
No, Susanna, no.
”
He grabbed her shoulders as he peered down at her with blue sincerity, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath.
“
Quite the opposite. I fear
you
will regret saying yes to me.
”

N
athaniel tried to relax the tension from his bones as he walked Susanna up the broad, grand staircase to her Parrsons House suite.

They had put off talking after their small confrontation at the Chadweths
’
. It wasn
’
t the place or time. Since then, they
’
d barely had a moment to themselves. They
’
d departed the garden party for a dinner at the American ambassador
’
s home with only enough time to change wardrobes. It had been a long Friday.

“
Are you coming in?
”
Susanna stood in the doorway, waiting.

Nathaniel tried to discern from her tone and posture whether his answer should be yes or no.
“
Actually, that
’
d be lovely.
”

She led the way in, slipping off her jacket, passing through the suite
’
s teakwood foyer to the living room.

The clock on the fireplace mantel chimed eleven bells.

For three more weeks, this would be her home. Then she
’
d move to Nathaniel
’
s palace apartment and this suite would become their private living quarters for Christmas and holidays when they traveled to the family
’
s country estate.

Already Susanna
’
s influence was changing this place, changing the palace—his former bachelor pad—in small, gentle ways. Above all, she was changing his bachelor heart.

He could
not
lose her. Must not. Yet he felt as if he
’
d been holding his breath for so long he had to let go and let life deal him the hand it must. He had to tell her the truth. After that, she might very well want to leave.