He had promised to return, yet
spring was well under way and he had not come back. He'd sent the money and a
letter to explain the situation he'd discovered upon his return to London. She
understood. Of course she did. He had a duty to his brother and none to her.
She'd refused his offer of marriage after all. It was her own fault.
Yet she had never stopped waiting
and watching. Never stopped hoping.
The niggling thought that she'd
been right to refuse him lingered. He'd spent long enough at Stoneleigh, long
enough to need to travel again. In time, she suspected he would leave London
too, but she doubted he would return to her. He was the sort who needed to move
ever forward, never back.
It was best to stay active and
not let herself think beyond the day's tasks otherwise melancholy would set in.
If she thought about the future she was likely to burst into tears and she'd
shed enough over the last five months to drown in.
"A little deeper," she
said, kneeling on the ground near where the lad dug. It was the next best thing
to digging the hole herself. "Before we put the sapling in—" She
stopped. Someone was whistling outside the wall. Her heart ground to a halt
then restarted with a vengeance.
He came back.
"Who's that whistling out of
tune?" her father asked, turning in his chair. The blanket slipped off his
lap as he half-rose.
"Out of tune? Mr. Farley,
you wound me. I rather thought I was a good whistler." Orlando stood
beneath the ivy-covered arch, smiling. Susanna couldn't tear her gaze away. He
was beautiful with his merry eyes and maddening dimples. The sight of him made
her want to alternately weep and laugh and swoon, all at once.
"Holt!" her father
said. "Susanna, it's Mr. Holt. I told you he'd return."
"Good afternoon,
Susanna," Orlando said, his smile drifting a little.
"Good afternoon," she
said.
"Have you been well? Did
your arm heal?"
"Quite well and yes it did.
And you?"
He simply shrugged. "I see
you've found yourself some help in my absence. I'm glad."
The lad gulped audibly. He'd
stopped digging, and she indicated he should keep going.
"He's been a Godsend,"
she said.
"Then you should keep him
on."
It was like walking through a briar
patch without boots and trying to avoid the thorns. If Orlando wanted her to
keep the lad, that meant he wasn't staying to help. She wouldn't be sad. She'd
known all along that he'd just pass through, if that. But she still wanted to
cry. Perhaps she would let the tears flow tonight when she allowed herself a
few minutes to think and remember and dream. Still, it was best if she didn't
speak, just until she knew her voice wouldn't break.
Her father slapped the arms of
his chair and pushed himself up. Orlando went to aid him, but Farley waved him
away. "You two have things to discuss." He gave Susanna a sharp
glare.
"Do you need help getting to
the house, sir?" Orlando asked.
"No, I can walk now that
it's spring. I always feel better in the spring. It's the best time of year.
New life and all that." He patted Orlando's arm and beckoned to the lad.
"Take the chair inside."
Young and old left the walled garden
and Susanna was alone with Orlando. She didn't know how to begin so she said
the first thing that came into her head.
"You came back."
"I said I would." He
cocked his head to the side. "You doubted me?"
She lifted one shoulder.
"I...didn't think one thing or the other."
The smile he gave her was a
typical Orlando Holt smile—an intriguing mix of imp and rogue. When she'd first
met him, it had irritated her. Now she wanted to kiss it.
"Did you receive the money I
sent?" he asked.
"Yes, and thank you for introducing
me to your customer. He has already written and asked for whatever crop we can
produce this year. I mean it, Orlando, thank you. I'm sorry I doubted you."
He pulled her to him, slamming
her against his body. "I'll accept a kiss as an apology."
She made a small sound of protest.
"Not so hard."
He stepped away and held her at
arm's length. "Did I hurt you?"
She shook her head.
He frowned. His gaze moved lower,
to her stomach. "Susanna..." Lately she'd returned to wearing women's
clothes and he touched her bodice at her waist. His jaw went slack.
"Susanna..." he whispered, wonder in his voice. He flattened his palm
against her belly. "You're...with child."
She bit the inside of her lip but
it wobbled, darn it. "Yes. I'm going to have your baby in about four
months."
"But...you can't."
She lifted one shoulder. "It
seems I can after all. I was going to write to you in London." When she
found the right words.
"Your father...he
knows?"
"I haven't told him, but I
suspect he's guessed. I was going to tell him once my clothes no longer hid the
bump. Bessie, Cook, and Hendricks guessed long ago."
"Hiding something like this
from them would have been impossible." He laughed and threw his arms
around her. It felt delicious and warm to be wrapped up in him again, and a
riot of sensations swamped her, chief among them relief and sadness in equal
measure.
He removed her hat and buried his
face in her hair. "Ah, my sweetheart, I've missed you so much." He
kissed her forehead and stroked his thumbs across her cheeks. "We'll marry
as soon as the bans are read."
"Orlando," she said,
gently extricating herself. If she didn't say it now, she may never say it, and
it had to be said. "Orlando, I cannot marry you."
His smiled faded and a crease
formed above the bridge of his nose. "Why not?"
"Because nothing has
changed."
"Nonsense. Everything has
changed! We're going to have a baby." The frown deepened.
"Susanna...don't. Don't push me away. Not now. Surely the baby changes how
you feel."
She turned away and lowered her
head. Despite her resolve, her tears slipped down her cheeks unchecked. She
felt him come up behind her but he didn't touch her.
"Is it because I broke my
promise and didn’t return immediately? I'm sorry for that. Thomas needed me and
I...I thought I could atone for what happened years ago. But I can't. What's
done is done. Thomas needs to be strong now. I did give him a lot of the money
I saved. Hopefully he can hire some good workers to help him. I'm not going
back, Susanna. I'm staying here, with you."
"It doesn't change how I
feel," she said.
"I don't understand."
"You felt obligated before
you left, just as you felt obligated to help your brother." She swung
round and was struck by the misery etched into every line of his face. She
forged on. "You think promising to take care of me, as if I'm some kind of
responsibility, is what I want?"
"You
are
my
responsibility, Susanna, whether you like it or not. You and our baby."
"I don't want to be your
duty
,
Orlando!"
"Let me finish. You are my
responsibility because I love you."
Her breathing sounded loud in the
silence, echoing between her ears. "Love?" she murmured.
"Yes," he said, a
tentative half-smile curving his lips.
"No."
His smiled slipped off.
"What?"
She folded her arms across the
swell of her belly. "Love is not for the likes of you, Orlando."
He stepped toward her but she
held her hands up, blocking him.
"Whether you are or aren't,
we cannot marry. Not because of the baby, not because you want to help me, and
not because you wish to protect me. My reasons for denying you haven’t changed.
I will not tie you to me, or to our child. Marriage would be a slow death for a
man like you. An honorable, good man who would fulfill his obligations when all
he really wanted was to be free." She swallowed hard. "And I couldn't
bear to see you turn into the sort of man I despise because of me."
"Susanna, stop it. You know
nothing of what I want, or what I need."
"You said so yourself. You
need your freedom lest you grow bored and cause trouble as you did for your brother
years ago."
"Susanna, listen to me."
He gripped her arms and lowered his head so that his intense gaze was level
with hers. It held her rooted to the spot. "
You
are my freedom,"
he said. "Not the Guild, not wandering the world and not this baby. It's
you."
A great shudder wracked her.
"Me?"
He nodded. "I made up my
mind before leaving London that I would return here and do my utmost to make
you my wife. If you refuse me, I'm staying anyway."
"You...you will? Even if we
don't wed? Even if I don't want you as my lover?"
"Not being intimate with you
would kill me, but I defy you to resist my charms for long." He gave her
his infamous lop-sided smile. "My charms are extensive, I'll have you
know."
She gave a half-sob, half-laugh.
"I know."
"I don't want to go anywhere
else, Susanna." He was suddenly serious again. "Why would I, when
you're here? Wherever you are is where I want to be, even if that's the same
place for the rest of our lives. I could never grow bored with you." He
pecked the end of her nose. "You're such a complicated creature it would
take me a lifetime to discover all your secrets. What greater adventure is
there?"
She blinked up at him for a long
time, trying to determine if he told her the truth. He was such a good liar. So
very, very good.
"You don't trust me,"
he said heavily.
"I do." It was the
truth. She did trust him, with all her heart. He'd come back as promised—there
was no greater evidence that he spoke the truth. "But why the change? Five
months ago you were afraid of becoming a wastrel and bringing ill tidings to
your family's door. Are you no longer afraid of that?"
"I'm not. I spent a lot of
time with Thomas while in London. He forgave me for what happened that awful
night. May did too. He said he'd come to understand me a little better over the
years, and understood my need to be active. That's why when he asked me to stay
this time, he offered me the freedom to do as I pleased, to work where I wanted
to work, and have more responsibility. So I did. I learned every aspect of the
business and I realized that I could do it and not grow bored. I could stay
there for as long as I wanted and there'd always be something different to do,
if I chose to do it. The thing is, I chose not to. I chose you. I
want
you."
"Oh," she whispered.
Her throat was too tight to say any more.
He'd chosen her.
"When I left, Thomas gave me
his blessing. He also gave me some advice. He told me to keep active and engage
in something I enjoy to stay out of trouble." He leaned in and kissed her
lightly on the lips. It triggered an ache, low in her belly.
"And what do you
enjoy?"
She felt him smile. It was pure
wickedness.
"Ah, well then." She
stretched her arms around him and he responded by holding her gently.
"It's fortunate that you and I have the same interests."
He kissed her. Thoroughly. It
took her breath away and made her want to lie with him, right there on the
earth.
"Come," he said, taking
her hand. "I want to ask your father for your hand before you change your
mind. Then I'd better ask Hendricks."
"Very wise. But I'm not
going to change my mind."
"Oh?"
"Why would I when
your..." She dropped her gaze to his groin. "...charm is so
appealing."
He looped his arm around her
waist and hugged her to his side. "Just as long as you never grow bored of
my charm."
"Don't worry. There's no
chance I'll grow tired of
your
charm. It is rather extensive, so I've
been told."
He tipped his head back and
laughed.
THE END
CHAPTER 7
I
t was late when Orlando returned
to Stoneleigh, and supper had finished. Cook and Bessie were in the scullery
washing pots and Hendricks was helping Farley into bed. Susanna had retreated
to her rooms. Orlando knew because he'd seen light coming from her window and
he thought he saw her face peering out but couldn't be sure.
"It's about time," Cook
said when he entered the scullery. She wiped her hands on her apron and led him
back to the kitchen. "It's been dark for hours. Supper's cold."
"I've had cold suppers
before," Orlando said, pecking her on the cheek. "It's never stopped
me from eating every last crumb."
Cook chuckled and whacked him
lightly on the arm with a trencher before handing it to Bessie who'd followed
them from the scullery.
Bessie forked slices of mutton
onto it from a pot warming on the hearth. "We've been worried about you."
"Worried about me?" He
laughed. "That's new."
"You never had anyone worry
about you before?" Cook asked.
He thought about it. "My
mother used to. She said I ought to keep my mouth shut more and do as I was
told." Hughe and the others worried too of course, but only rarely and
they never admitted it. They never fretted if he didn’t return one night, but
they would search for him if he failed to show at a designated meeting time and
that in itself was a comfort.
"Seems her advice
worked," Cook said, piling peas on his plate beside the mutton. "You
always do as the mistress tells you."
"That's because she's a fair
mistress." And ravishing and because he needed to work at Stoneleigh so he
could investigate her. He took the trencher and sat down to eat.