Desperately Seeking Suzanna (9 page)

“I believe I would prefer that as well. Country dances aren’t the best way to visit with someone anyway—all that twirling and changing of partners.” He smiled down at her, and she almost melted into the wooden floorboard under her satin slippers.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never danced one.”

“Truly? Are you sure you don’t want to now, then?”

“No. If I can be completely honest, I’m famished.”

“Might I be honest as well?” He leaned down to add in a soft rumble, “I’m starving.”

“Have you tried the tea cakes here?”

“No, but I saw them a few minutes ago.”

“Come with me. You have to try one.” Before she was aware of her own actions, she was pulling him through the crowd toward the refreshment parlor, away from the dance floor and the possibility of having his hands on her body.

“Perhaps it’s the manner in which you drag gentlemen across a room that has your dance card so empty.” Holden teased.

“I’ve never done this before either.”

“Miss Green, have you lived at all before this evening?”

“Perhaps once.” The night they’d spent together seemed full of life, in her memory anyway. It was surely an average Thursday for him, but not for her. For her it had been… She shook her head. It wasn’t wise to think about such things now.

“Once in a lifetime,” he reprimanded. “That isn’t enough living, if you ask me.”

“I’m sure not, from what I’ve heard of you.” She pulled him through the door into the side parlor, smiling at the sight of the tower of cakes.

“What precisely have you heard?” he asked as they neared the refreshment table.

“Oh, just things here and there.” She picked up two small cakes from the table and turned back to him. “Try this.”

She held one cake out between two fingers for him to take. He took it, just not in the way she had imagined. In one smooth motion he lifted her hand by the wrist and took the cake from her with his teeth. She gasped. His fingers covered her pulse at her wrist for only a moment, but he had to have felt her heart racing there. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

“Mmmm.” The sound rumbled from deep within his chest. She watched as he licked a bit of icing from his lip.

She needed to look away. Her eyes, however, were not cooperating at the moment. Did he have any idea how devastatingly handsome he looked in evening attire? Most likely he did. And now with his lips sweet from the cake he’d eaten, she could think of nothing else but kissing him.
Sue, get hold of yourself. He doesn’t even see you.

She blinked and turned away a fraction, feigning interest in a portrait of an elderly gentleman across the room. “The food at this ball is delicious. Don’t you think so? So often at these affairs all that is provided is watered-down lemonade and meat left sitting out too long.” She popped the other cake into her mouth, letting the sweet taste of strawberries overtake her.

“I believe I’ll have another. I was happy to see your family this evening.”

“Oh?” Her family. This was why he’d wanted to dance with her, to find out if Evangeline was available, what her interests might be, and how she took her tea. She braced herself for a long discussion of all things Evangeline.

“Yes, you’re of relation to the Fairlyn family, aren’t you?” he asked as he lifted another cake to his mouth.

“I am. They are my cousins.” So it wasn’t her sister he was interested in; no, it was her cousins. This was an unexpected change. However, she didn’t wish to discuss her cousins either at this point, not with him.

“Their property borders my uncle’s property. I met them only recently.”

“And you’ve captured me to quiz me on Isabelle and Victoria,” she retorted, picking up another cake from the table. “My mother will be quite disappointed, you know.”

“No, that’s not… Why would your mother be disappointed?”

“Because of my sister.”

“Who is your sister?” His eyes sharpened on her. Everything about him looked as if he was about to pounce on some prey he’d captured. “Is she your same height? Hair of…”

“No. Evangeline is tall and perfectly formed.” Sue resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Evangeline.” He seemed to deflate at the sound of the name. He exhaled on a deep sigh as he grabbed another cake from the table. “My aunt spoke of her recently. It seems our families desire a match there.”

“Well, then. I do hope it all works out for everyone involved.” Sue stuffed the cake she’d been holding into her mouth to avoid talking any further.

“What works out? A match?” He chuckled and shook his golden head. “I’m asking after your cousins’ friend Suzanna.”

She choked on the cake, finally forcing it down her throat with a series of coughs. He was asking about Suzanna. Fear warred with excitement inside her chest. Why had she ever thought that night would be a quickly forgotten adventure?

“Your cousins indicated she would be in attendance this evening. I know it’s beyond poor taste to ask after another lady while eating cakes with you. However, I thought…”

“Suzanna,” she repeated, her lips parting on some unknown question as she searched his eyes for answers. “You’re asking after Suzanna. Then you aren’t interested in courting Evangeline.”

“Have I even met Evangeline?”

“I’m sure if you had, you wouldn’t readily forget
her
.” She couldn’t stop the quick tilt of her chin and flair of her nostrils in accusation, nor did she particularly desire to.

“Miss Green,” he led in with slow words, clearly recognizing he was no longer on stable footing in the conversation. “I only want to know where Suzanna can be found this evening. I will leave you be once I’ve seen her.”

“Suzanna isn’t in attendance.”

“She isn’t in attendance.” He sighed and took a step away, running a hand through his hair. Turning back, he asked, “Where is she?”

“Not here, my lord.”

“I’m aware of that. I’m asking if she had some prior engagement this evening. Or is she unwell?”

“She’s at home.”

“Your cousins told me of Suzanna’s dilemma. It’s all right to be honest with me.”

She froze. How did her cousins know of her parents’ decision about her future? Evangeline must have told them. And they had told Holden behind her back? Her heart sank at the betrayal. “Her dilemma?” Sue’s voice was shaking. “What dilemma would that be?”

“The problem she has in reference to gentlemen…”

“I wasn’t aware you knew of her situation. In fact, I didn’t even think my cousins knew.” They weren’t present for the discussion of Great-Aunt Mildred. Did Victoria and Isabelle know this was to be her last chance to find a husband? Her eyes narrowed on him.

“How could they not know? They’ve been around Suzanna enough to know the truth of the matter.”

“So you agree with them? Perhaps you should marry her, then.” She spat the words out, then inhaled in an attempt to pull them back in.

“That would certainly keep her in one place for once, but I’m not suggesting that.”

“Is that what you would do? Keep her in her place, locked away, not to be seen?” She sighed and looked away. She would be as good as locked away in Scotland for the remainder of her life. “Perhaps that is what she deserves. And it appears she doesn’t have much choice in the matter anyway.”

“Are we both speaking of her propensity to run when a gentleman gets near her?”

“Her…yes, of course we are.” Sue tried to laugh but it sounded hollow to her ears. “That silly Suzanna. Always on the run.”

“Then you’ll assist me in finding her?”

“Of course.” She smiled through her panic. How was she to assist him in finding…well…herself? This was a disaster.

“Where is she staying?”

Sue panicked. She couldn’t tell him that! What was she to say? She could give him false information or… “I’m not going to tell you her personal information. You could be a murderer or a thief.”

He shook his head. “How odd. Earlier this evening someone accused
her
of being a thief.”

“Suzanna is not a thief! She is a kind person. Perhaps she has troubles with gentlemen, but that’s neither here nor there. One thing is for certain—she would never steal, my lord.”

“I meant no offense to your friend.”

“You have a fine way of showing it.”

“Listen, I…” He looked away and ran a hand through his hair. “Do you argue with all gentlemen?”

“No, only with you.”

“I feel so special.” He flinched as if surprised by some thought, then shook it off.

Her eyes narrowed on him. What was he thinking?

“This evening hasn’t gone the way I’d intended. I’m usually charming.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

“May we begin again? I will swear on this most delicious tea cake that I am here in a friendly capacity.”

“All right then. I swear on the very same delicious tea cake that I am here in a friendly capacity as well.”

She watched as he tore the small cake into two pieces and ate half of it. He held out the other half for her to take, his fingers hovering a breath away from her lips. She froze, gazing up into his face. She couldn’t eat from his hand, could she?

“You have to eat the cake, or the vow of friendship is null and void. It’s written in the great law of swears on sweets.” He smiled and shot her an “I dare you” look.

After another moment’s hesitation and a glance around the room to ensure they were indeed alone, she leaned forward to take the cake from his outstretched fingers. Only he moved his hand, causing her to stumble forward. She glared at him as he lifted the cake out of her reach.

“Oh, my mistake.” He held the cake out again and waited for her to take it. Then once again he pulled his hand away with a chuckle.

“All right, I’ll play fair.” He grinned and moved to feed her the cake before snatching it away again.

With a narrow-eyed glare, she reached up and grabbed his wrist, lifting herself off the ground for a moment, her satin slippers swinging in the air.

His muscles tensed under her grasp. “Oh, now who’s not playing fair? I can’t very well let you fall on your arse, can I?”

“That’s what I’m counting on,” she struggled to say as she strained to reach his hand with her mouth.

She would achieve her goal and take the piece of cake from him. He’d won at their last meeting, and he would not win again. She stretched up one last time and trapped the cake with her lips, flicking her tongue out to lick the icing from the palm of his hand. That was the moment when he dropped her.

Her knees buckled and she landed on the floor in a heap of pale rose skirts. The pain in her backside was well worth it to see the stunned look in Holden’s eyes. She was still laughing as she licked a bit of strawberry filling from her lip.

He knelt down beside her with slow movements. Before she knew what was happening, his hand was cupping her jaw. The laughter drained from her as she looked up into his face. Did he know now? Had her laughter given away her secret? Her lips parted to say something, although she didn’t know what to say. Heat rose from her cheeks. He was too close to her, too close by far.

His thumb brushed across the corner of her mouth. “You missed a crumb.” He grinned down at her.

“Oh.”

“I should take you back to the ballroom before someone discovers us and gets the wrong impression.”

“Yes, that would be horrible.”

“I know.” He lifted his voice to imitate either an old lady or a feminine troll of some sort to say, “When I found them they were in the floor eating piles of the Dillsworths’ tea cakes. As if they were attending some type of scandalous picnic lunch. The outrage!”

“That actually sounds quite nice—the piles of cakes, I mean.”

He pulled her to her feet and set her away from him. Grabbing one last cake from the table, he popped it in his mouth and nodded toward the door leading back to the ballroom.

“Miss Green?”

“Yes?” She laid her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her from the room.

“If I’m not allowed to call on your friend, could you at least tell me what event she’ll be attending next? I would greatly like to see her.”

“She would like that, too,” Sue replied with a rueful frown, then added, “I would think. Suzanna will be at the Geddings’ ball.”

“Are you sure?”

“You have my word.” Had she just given him her word that Suzanna would be at the Geddings’ ball? What was she thinking? Suzanna couldn’t attend a ball!

“Thank you, my lady—for the assistance and the refreshment.” He gave a quick bow over her hand and was gone.

She stared after his retreating form. She really should avoid that man whenever possible. But somehow she didn’t think that was going to be the easy task she had hoped it would be.

Holden pushed through the crowd and slipped out the front door of the ball, his footfalls on the stone steps sounding like the drums of war to his ears. The chits had lied. “She’ll be at the Dillsworth ball,” he mocked into the hollow void of the night. He moved past the line of carriages to the section of iron fencing where his horse was tethered.

“They lied, Muley. The search continues, ol’ boy.” He gave his mount an affectionate pat on the cheek and took a step toward the stirrup. “But why did they lure me here if Suzanna wasn’t to be in attendance?” He glanced back over his shoulder. Should he go back inside?

He could question them, ask them why they lied…or perhaps it had been an honest mix-up. Suzanna could be across town, ill with a cough, right now. He sighed and swung up onto his horse. At least he knew she would be at the Geddings’ ball. She couldn’t run from him forever.

As he gained speed down the quiet street toward home, he began to relax. With every gust against his face, the wind ripped away his agitation at not finding his quarry this evening. By the time he turned the corner to the mews behind his home, he felt quite calm.

In fact, the only thought left on his mind was the odd exchange he’d had with Miss Green. She had a familiar quality about her, as if they’d been friends for years, yet there was something else about her. There was a mysterious element that had caught his mind and wouldn’t let go.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on what about her he found troubling. She wasn’t susceptible to his charm—that much was true. His eyes flared in the darkness, and he shook his head. Every lady found him endearing and jolly good company, every lady except for Miss Green. He neared the stable and dismounted from Muley, giving the horse a pat in farewell. Tossing the reins to the groom, Holden offered a quick nod of thanks before returning to the garden path to his home.

Miss Green, however, took issue with every statement he made. Irritating to say the least. The trouble was that in spite of these things, some part of him wanted to talk to her again.

She’d licked him. What type of lady behaved in such a manner? He traced the path her mouth had made across his hand with his thumb as he walked through the garden to his house. There’d been a moment on the floor of the refreshment room… He shook his head. The last thing he needed was another distraction; he was distracted enough as it was. And he was closing in on the source of that distraction—Suzanna. The Geddings’ ball was only a few days away. Soon he would find her. He grinned into the night. Soon.

He retrieved a key from his pocket and let himself in, as he often did late at night so that his butler could earn some much-needed rest. Fezawald was dedicated to his work as leader of his staff. The maids all saw him as their grandfather, and so did Holden to some extent. Perhaps it was simply the man’s age that had gained the household’s consideration, or the fact that he always held the perfect piece of wisdom, pressed into neat folds, served with a side of tea, and presented readily on a polished silver platter.

Over the years on their travels together, they’d developed an understanding that Fezawald would go on to bed when Holden was out evenings. In turn, the butler would not allow the upstairs maids to begin their duties until Holden was well awake in the mornings.

He climbed the steps to the door, anxious to put his feet up for a few minutes, have a glass of brandy, and perhaps flip through a book before bed. With his mind on what book he should read, Holden swung the door open and stopped short at the threshold.

He blinked into the absolute darkness of his home. Tonight, Fezawald hadn’t left the lamp burning. He’d never forgotten before.

Tossing his hat onto the table by the door, Holden dug into the small drawer in the front, feeling for one of the small pieces of wood used to light the candles. It took him three attempts of dipping the wood into the vial of acid in complete darkness to finally accomplish it. Once a flame was produced, he pulled a lamp from a sconce on the wall at his side, lighting the candle within the glass.

He sighed as a small circle of light fell on the polished wooden floor around him. He leaned his hip against the table for a moment, forcing his eyes into focus. He blinked up at the large hall around him, scanning his art collection on the walls. Everything was as it should be, except for the lack of candles left lit for him. Extending his arm before him, he lit the way through the pitch black.

When he reached the foot of the stairway where it wrapped around the back of the room, he glanced up. Not a single candle was lit on the stairs either.

Something was wrong.

Perhaps Fezawald had fallen ill. Did he need to send for a doctor? He was only a few paces beyond the stairs, on his way to the kitchen to see if any of the household was still awake, when he saw it. The flicker of light danced across the rug before him. His head snapped to the right. A fire was lit in the parlor grate. He stepped toward the doorway just as Fezawald was leaving, almost colliding with the tea tray in the butler’s hands.

“Fezawald, I feared you were ill. Why is the house dark? Where are the candles?”

“I’m well, my lord, thank you for asking. However, I do need to speak with you about a matter of some urgency.”

“All right, but can we have some light to discuss household matters?”

“That is but a small portion of what I must tell you, my lord. You see we…”

“Who the devil are you serving tea to in the dead of night?” Holden interrupted, eyeing the tea service in his butler’s hands.

“Our company, my lord.”

“What company?”

At Fezawald’s hesitation, Holden pushed past the man, stepping into the parlor.

Her back was to him where she sat before his fireplace. Flames leapt around her silhouette, defining the small knot of hair on the very top of her head, dancing off her knitting needles, and showering the rest of the room in the shadows of her thin arms. Her loose gray dress hung on her shoulders and draped to the floor at her feet.

Turning back to Fezawald, Holden mouthed the words, “Who is she?”

His trusted butler and friend answered with a single raised brow, but Holden didn’t need an answer to his question. He knew.

He only had a vague memory of her—her smile and the set of her eyes—as if he’d long ago memorized a portrait. But still, he knew who this woman was. The soft clicking of her knitting needles paused as she looked to the side of the room.

Holden tensed. Was she aware of his presence? He couldn’t remember talking to her in the past, even though he was sure that at one point he had. He did know, however, that he wasn’t prepared to do so now. But neither could he leave.

“You needn’t linger by the door.” Her voice rasped as if lack of use and age had scraped raw any softness that once existed. “The fire is warm. Come in.” Her head dipped back to her knitting, the click, click, click of the needles beginning once again. “I’m pleased I found you. It wasn’t easy with you not living in the family’s home across town.”

Holden cleared his throat and took a step into the room. “I’ve never lived at Pemberton House.” He watched the firelight dance across the side of her face. There was so much she didn’t know, so much he didn’t know… “How did you travel here?”

“Carriage.” A muscle in her cheek twitched as she spoke.

“And are you…well?”

“As well as can be expected, I suppose.” She turned to look at him for the first time, her eyes the same dark green he recalled from his youth, but her skin had grown thin and her once-dark hair was now streaked with silver. “You’ve grown. You look like Monty the day I met him. He was so handsome.” The memory must have turned sour in her mind, for she glared at him for a moment before turning her attention back to her knitting.

He turned back to Fezawald where he hovered by the door still holding the tea tray. In a whisper, he asked, “Is anyone looking for her?”

“Not that I’m aware, my lord. She arrived on foot a few hours ago in…quite a state. The maids drew her a bath, repaired her hair, and found the knitting for her. It seemed to calm her a bit. The conditions she must have come from…” Fezawald shook his head.

Holden nodded in understanding. Perhaps she wasn’t of sane mind, but he couldn’t send her back to a place that left her in this state. What had his father been thinking with such arrangements? Five and twenty years. He set the candle in his hand down and crossed the room, kneeling at her side. “You may stay here for a time. But I must ask that you stay within this home and the back garden.”

“Anything for you, Holden. I knew you would care for me, just as I once did for you.”

“Of course.” He paused, the next word sticking to his tongue with a foreignness that made him take a small breath before it could be stated. “Mother.”

***

Suzanna
will
be
at
the
Geddings’ ball. You have my word.
Sue rolled her eyes and shook her head, wishing she could walk backward into yesterday’s ball, scoop up the words, and shove them back into her mouth. What
had
she been thinking? This was the problem with being so loquacious. Sometimes whole sentences flew from her mouth before she knew she was thinking them. Now, what was she to do? Suzanna couldn’t very well show up in the middle of the Geddings’ ballroom. And even worse than that minor issue, now she must see Holden again, perhaps even speak with him.

She looked down at the hat in her hands. The delicate peach flowers around the rim were now crushed on one side from her fretful grip. Her eyes widened. Tossing the hat back onto a display table, she turned and took a large step away from it. Thankfully, the shop owner was too busy fussing over her sister to notice the destruction of his merchandise. Dusting off her hands, Sue joined her family, but her mind couldn’t be further from the hats and ribbons surrounding her.

She’d had a plan last night, and she’d failed miserably at her goal. She needed to find a husband, not spend half the evening at the refreshment table chatting with Holden. Had he almost kissed her there on the floor of the refreshment parlor, or had she imagined that? Not that she cared, because she most certainly didn’t. Drat that blasted man, she needed to focus on finding a husband. And her quest would begin anew right now…for the second time.

“We’ll take the yellow as well,” her mother stated as she handed a hat that looked somewhat like a large yellow bird back to the man in the apron.

Evangeline glanced up from her study of a simple dove gray bonnet that was, ironically, in a style she would never wear. “I already have a yellow hat, Mama.”

“Not one trimmed with feathers. Really, Evangeline, you can’t have too many hats. You never know what occasion might arise that would call for a yellow hat with feathers.”

“I suppose.” She set the gray hat down on a table and ran a finger over the rim before stepping away.

“Mother, isn’t this green hat nice?”

“That’s ghastly, Sue. Put that down at once. You have plenty of hats.”

Sue raised the green hat in her hand for closer inspection. It was bright, but she wouldn’t call it ghastly. “I thought it was different.”

“That it is, dear,” her mother stated with an upturned nose as she turned back to the shop owner. “Have this sent to our home.”

“Yes, m’lady.”

“I’m Lady Rightworth of Rightworth House.” Oh dear. Now, as usual, Mother would take a moment to inform a perfect stranger of Father’s title, their land holdings, and her resulting rank in society. Sue tossed the hat down on the table and moved toward the door.

“Yes, m’lady.”

“That’s in Mayfair,” she added.

“Yes, m’lady.”

“We’re neighbors of the Marquess of Elandor, you know.”

“Yes, m’lady.”

“Very well, then. As long as you know. Come along, girls.”

Sue rolled her eyes toward the plaster ceiling and pulled the door open. Stepping out into the warm afternoon sun after her family, she breathed in the fresh air. It wasn’t as sweet as the air in the country, but it was better than the inside of any shop on Bond Street. They were passing a window displaying an assortment of jewelry when her mother bellowed from her side, making Sue jump.

“Lord Steelings! Lord Steelings, is that you?” Her mother flung a hand up into the air and began waving as she dipped through the crowd.

Sue froze. She wasn’t prepared to see him. Not now. Not yet. She’d only just renewed her efforts to find a husband. He was a distraction. A handsome distraction, but that only served to make him a more annoying distraction.

He slowed his pace, and with a sigh visible from the shrug of his shoulders, he turned. “Lady Rightworth, I believe.” He offered a nod of his head and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His eyes…he looked troubled. Or was that weariness from the late night at the ball?

“Lord Steelings, it’s so nice to run into you this afternoon.”

It seemed more like chasing him down the street than a chance meeting to Sue. She had to look away to keep from giggling at the image now planted in her mind of her mother diving on passing gentlemen and pulling them to the ground in an effort to find a suitor for Evangeline.

“Yes, it’s a fine afternoon for shopping.”

“Quite right, my lord. Although it is rather warm. We were just going to get ices. Won’t you escort us? You must be warm in all this sunlight as well.”

“I rather enjoy the sunshine. I’m out for a stroll, actually.”

“Then you can certainly use some refreshment after your exertion.”

“Actually, I…” He looked around, clearly searching for some excuse to be away from them, but his gaze returned with a sigh. “I would enjoy your company for ices.”

“Oh, wonderful! This is my daughter, Miss Evangeline Green. It’s her company you would enjoy most, I’m sure. Come, Evangeline. Lord Steelings wants to take you for ices.”

“I don’t think that’s what he had in mind, Mama.” Evangeline’s blush lit her cheekbones as if brushed on by an artist.

“Oh, Evangeline, always so modest! Isn’t she a lovely lady, my lord?”

“Mama!”