Desperately Seeking Suzanna (17 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Michels

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical romance, #Regency

BOOK: Desperately Seeking Suzanna
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He’d experienced this process enough to know that the truth couldn’t be sprung on someone, catching them unaware. That would only make her defensive. No, she needed to admit who she was, and he would just have to give her ample opportunity to do so.

He slowed to allow a hack to pass and caught sight of movement at his side. Glancing over, he saw another rider waiting for the street to clear.

Her eyes flashed in challenge as her horse pranced beneath her—where she sat astride in breeches. “Fine morning for a ride,” she offered in greeting.

“It is.” Holden was in no frame of mind to chat with a new acquaintance.

She steadied her prancing horse and smiled. “Care to make it interesting?”

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Who was this lady? Not only was she using a man’s saddle, but her hair hung down her back in a long auburn braid. He shook his head.

Just then the hack moved past and she took off down the street with a clatter of hooves. Holden had no interest in racing a lady through the streets of London, but neither did he wish to be bested by the chit. He leaned over Muley’s mane and urged him forward.

With hooves clattering down the street, he began to close the gap in the race. Buildings sped by as they moved into a quieter section of town. He was level with the lady now. Glancing over at her, he saw her grin and pull ahead of him. Holden pulled up, slowing Muley as he watched her continue down the street. He’d been beaten by a girl. Add that to the tally of confusing circumstances that had occurred today.

He shook his head and turned up the street toward the Rutledge residence. That was when he caught sight of the auburn-haired rider tethering her horse across the street from his cousins. That was Ormesby House where the Moore family had long lived. He knew Trevor Moore from school years prior, and she must be related to him with that hair.

He shook off the sight of Trevor Moore’s unconventional relative and dismounted. Pulling out his watch, he checked the time. “Perfect timing,” he murmured to himself. He would stop in for a surprise visit for breakfast. With any luck they would be serving the blueberry tea cakes today. If a ride couldn’t settle his mind this morning, he would simply move on to sweets. And perhaps sometime after he’d eaten all the sugar in sight, he would know what came next with Sue.

***

The window beside Sue was thrown open not because it was a beautiful day outside, as it was actually quite dreary, but because Isabelle had dropped a bottle of perfume on the floor not fifteen minutes prior, smashing it to pieces. Now the parlor she shared with Evangeline smelled strong enough to make a prostitute run for fresh air.

Sue lifted her gaze to the room and sighed. The only evidence she lived here was a small stack of canvases leaning against the wall in the corner. The remainder of the room was an eruption of hats, ribbons, feathers, and shoes. She curled further into the corner of the settee in an attempt to ignore the afternoon of excessive preening going on around her.

Victoria, however, didn’t take Sue’s posture as a sign to leave her alone and continued to converse with her. “I don’t understand why you’re still keeping this secret, Sue. Tell him the truth.”

“I tried to tell him I was Suzanna just yesterday afternoon in the Rutledges’ garden.” Sue turned the page in her book, focusing on the printed images of flowers in her lap.

Isabelle stopped fussing with her hair in the mirror to flop down on the settee beside Sue, jostling the book in her grasp. “You were in the garden together? How romantic!”

Sue tried to ignore Isabelle, who thought everything was romantic. Her younger cousin didn’t understand how complicated things had become or what was at stake in her life. “He’s difficult to talk to about such things.”

Victoria dropped the ribbon in her hands to her side to glare at Sue. “Heavens, if
you
can’t talk to him, no one can.”

Evangeline strolled by, plucking the ribbon from Victoria’s fingers on her way to the seat at the vanity. “I think it’s for the best. Keep your distance from him, Sister. He’s distracting you from finding a husband.” She sat and held the length of ribbon up to her hair with pursed lips.

“Thank you for that reminder, Evie. I’d forgotten I need a husband. Truly I had.” Sue shut the book on her lap and laid it aside. It was no use. She would look at it later when her family wasn’t trying to run her life for her.

Victoria turned to the tea service and bent to refill her cup. Apparently preening for hours on end gave one a great thirst. “Why not run away with Lord Steelings while dressed as Suzanna? It would be days before he discovered the truth, and by then it would be too late.”

Evangeline cast the ribbon aside and picked up another. “The ‘too late’ bit is the troublesome part, Victoria. She can’t risk her virtue for the likes of him.”

“She already has. In the library,” Victoria argued.

“She has?” Evangeline spun on her chair, leveling a glare in her direction. “Sue, you didn’t! You could be with child!”

“I only kissed him, and you are not in charge of my actions. If I want to kiss a handsome gentleman, then I shall. In fact…” The memory of his mouth on hers in the garden yesterday came to mind. His hands on her skin. She tried to hide the smile tugging at her lips but couldn’t.

“Sue Green! What did you do?”

“Urg, you sound like Mother, Evie. Did you know that? You’re like her twin, only younger.”

“Just like me, Evie!” Isabelle exclaimed with a little bounce that threatened to launch Sue off the settee.

“That’s not what she meant, Isabelle.” Victoria rolled her eyes as she pulled out a small flask of something and poured a measure into her teacup. “And never mind all of that. I want to hear details. Sue, you’re still blushing! What happened yesterday?”

She sighed, remembering Holden telling her of his childhood struggles but not wanting to share them with anyone. Some words were too private and too precious even for her to discuss. And then he’d kissed her. “It was nothing. We talked.”

“It looks like something indeed,” Victoria said over the rim of her teacup.

“Very well. Perhaps there was a kiss. But it was nothing,” she lied. “It’s become so complicated now. He still doesn’t know I’m…me.” And he’s not at all the person I thought him to be, she finished to herself.

“Sue, you must tell him the truth,” Isabelle chimed in. “Keeping secrets will give you wrinkles.”

“That’s not true at all.” Sue smiled, thinking of a lady she’d seen on Bond Street the week before with lines covering her face, every one looking as if it held a fabulous story. “And besides, I find wrinkles rather endearing.”

Victoria snorted into her cup. “You would.”

“What good could come of telling him the truth?”

Isabelle clasped her hands below her chin and beamed as she pronounced, “He could realize his undying love for you. The two of you would then run away to Gretna Green, and you would be Lady Steelings!”

Evangeline turned from the mirror with one elegant brow raised in question. “Isabelle, how many of those gothic novels have you read? You know real gentlemen don’t go around in shining armor discussing undying love, don’t you, dear?”

“It could happen,” Isabelle huffed.

“What if I tell him who I am and he runs in horror that he could have been attracted to such a plain-looking lady? What if that’s it? It’s over—all of it. What if I end my season alone? What if I’m forced to…” She was surprised to realize that the worst part of that line of thought was the bit where Holden wouldn’t be in her life any longer. When had she grown fond of the arrogant man? She shook her head.

“‘What if’ seems to be quite the terrifying phrase,” Isabelle mused.

A moment of rare silence fell over the group before Victoria’s voice broke the silence. “Sue? What if he cares for you?”

Isabelle was right. “What if” was a terrifying phrase.

Eleven

The wooden sign bearing the faded image of a mortar and pestle swung in the damp air blowing in off the Thames. The shop hadn’t changed a bit since Henrietta was here last. Five and twenty years. Had it truly been that long? The years she’d wasted locked away in that wretched place!

She glanced up the narrow street to ensure she was alone before swinging open the door to the apothecary shop. A small bell rang above her head, and she smiled at the memory of walking in this very door for the same purpose all those years ago. Nothing had changed.

Only this time everything would go according to plan. Breathing in the sweet smell of herbs, Henrietta moved farther into the dimly lit shop. Warm circles of light shone from lamps hanging on the cream-colored walls, lighting the shining head of the shopkeeper behind the counter. He looked up in greeting and pushed his spectacles further up on his nose. Dusting bits of the herbs he was working with off his apron, he slid the herbs out of the way, awaiting her request.

It was a shame it had come to this. Holden held ever so much potential, unlike his brother who had threatened the very life of her sweet babe. Her nose twitched at the memory of Samuel’s incessant whining and fits of temper. Holden, however, was bright and handsome. He was everything a son and heir should be. Or he would be once she had influence on his life again. Now the time had come to repair things.

“May I be of assistance, m’lady?”

“Yes. I need something of a rather delicate nature.”

“Is it…”—the shopkeeper leaned over the long wooden counter to whisper—“lady problems?”

“In a manner of speaking, it is. I’m glad we see eye to eye on the matter, sir.” This would be easier than she’d realized.

“It happens. Ladies of your age and all. I have just the thing.” He turned and began digging in one of the small drawers lining the back wall. “You’ll need to mix this into a tonic. You’ll want to take it with your dinner, of course. Otherwise…”

“Pardon, but it’s not for me.”

“Right.” He winked at her. The nerve! “It’s for some other lady who is, I’m sure, much older than you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Why must men be so difficult? All men except for her sweet Holden, of course. “I’m afraid you have it all wrong. Those are not the lady problems I’m here for.”

“My apologies then, m’lady. Please explain your malady.”

“As I stated before, it is not for my use. I find I’m in need of…”

The bell on the door began tinkling and a brief breeze blew through the shop as a tall, broad-shouldered man entered. She’d spied him with her son not a day ago, no doubt filling Holden’s head with thoughts of abandoning her to the madhouse once more. And wasn’t he one to talk since he was known all over town as the Mad Duke of Thornwood.

“Your Grace!” The shop owner straightened at the sight of him. “What can I get for you this morning? Or do you have some rare treat for me today? African herbs? The tea leaves you brought last visit made quite the unusual brew.”

Thornwood strolled up to the counter beside Henrietta. “Did they have the desired effect?”

“Yes.” The shopkeeper’s eyes flashed beneath his thick spectacles. “Indeed. The wife wants me to acquire more…for apothecary research, of course.”

Thornwood laughed and leaned one elbow on the counter. “I’ll remember that next time I go on expedition. I’m afraid I’m empty-handed today.”

“Oh? What can I get for you, then?”

Had the man completely forgotten she was here? She arrived first, then in walked Thornwood and she was forgotten. Her jaw clenched as a familiar pang shot through her. Thornwood. The world would be a better place without him as well, but that’s not why she was here…not on this visit at any rate.

He didn’t seem to notice her staring as he stated, “I’m looking for damiana.”

“Ah, I happen to have some in the back.”

She cleared her throat and pursed her lips in a telling way to gain the man’s attention. He would not ignore her any longer.

He hesitated with a glance in her direction. “Allow me to finish with this fine lady first, if that’s all right.”

“Do what you must.” Thornwood shrugged.

“M’lady? What did you need?”

“Atropine.”

At the questioning look in the shopkeeper’s eyes as well as Thornwood’s turned head, she added, “In small doses it calms a fever.”

“I’ve never heard such.” The apothecary shifted with discomfort.

So squeamish. It was a disgusting character trait. Sometimes in life things must be done, actions taken, all for the greater good. She raised her chin and looked him in the eye. “Are you questioning a lady of impeccable bearing?”

“No…m’lady.”

He turned and began preparing a glass vial of dark red juice while she waited. Aware of Thornwood’s eyes on her, she turned. “Yes?”

“You look familiar. Not the gray hair or the wrinkles, but your eyes. I’ve seen you before.”

“I do not have wrinkles, and my hair is as dark brown as it ever was!”

Thornwood threw his hands up in surrender. “Didn’t mean to offend the lady buying poison. That wouldn’t be wise a’tol.”

“I am not purchasing poison. It’s for a fever.”

“A fever.” He nodded and turned his attention back to the shopkeeper, muttering, “And they call me mad.”

“Your atropine, m’lady.”

“Thank you.” She handed him a few coins and turned to leave the shop.

Of all the ways she could spend her morning, she did not want to spend one second more of it in the company of that man. He would steal her son away from her. She knew it. She’d finally escaped the hospital, and she refused to lose her precious Holden all over again. Thornwood would give him ideas. Troublesome ideas. Just like that Green girl. But she would fix things. This time she would succeed. She and Holden would be together forever.

It was almost lunchtime. She started up the street to the busier thoroughfare ahead, knowing she needed to get back before she was missed. Those troublesome servants were always watching her, especially after she stole the neighbor’s gown and went to that ball. But it was a good thing she had gone, for now she knew the severity of Holden’s circumstances. And she would deal with this situation the same way she’d handled Sam’s behavior.

She patted the vial inside her reticule, taking comfort in the soft clink of the glass. It was the sound of a promising future. Reaching the busy street, she signaled a passing hack. Holden would be ever so pleased once her plans were carried out. Finally, they would be together as a family—the way they should always have been.

***

Sue slipped behind a hedgerow when she saw her mother begin to move in her direction. Peeking out to make sure she’d gotten away, she saw her mother’s large green-feathered hat melt into the crowd on the Habernes’ lawn. Letting out a sigh of relief, she stood surveying the party from the cover of the bush. There were far too many thoughts rattling around in her mind this afternoon to survive an encounter with her mother, and she didn’t think she would fare well with random acquaintances, either.

The one person her eyes were sweeping the crowd for today was Holden.

Funny that she’d spent so much time avoiding him only to now have trouble finding him. Her palms were sweating inside her gloves, and she closed her eyes for a second to try and calm herself. She’d decided today was the day. Her family was right. Even if he was only trying to stop her from speaking in the garden, he hadn’t been too quick to pull away once she stopped talking. Or had he? No. She must stay strong.

Today she would tell him the truth about the masquerade ball…and the library. She had quite a bit of explaining to do, if she were to be honest. Fanning her flushed cheeks with the back of her hand, she turned and bumped straight into another lady. The blue muslin of her capped sleeve plastered itself to Sue’s shoulder with the heat of the afternoon.

For a moment, the lady hung there in the air, her arms flailing, but not yet falling. Sue reached out to grab her arm with a gasp. The girl staggered back a step, clinging to Sue. Just when Sue thought they would both end up tumbling to the ground, the lady righted herself.

Her dark eyes widened with surprise. Was she angry? Sue truly could not manage an angry lady today, not now. Her eyes swept over the lady, sizing up her adversary. Her blue dress hung loosely on her shoulders, and her hair—dark brown streaked with flames of red—was falling around her shoulders. Why was she half clothed behind a bush at a party? Perfect. Now she must deal with an angry, half-nude woman. This afternoon was going downhill rather quickly. But just as soon as the thought occurred to Sue, the young woman began laughing.

She had a crooked smile that simultaneously put Sue at ease and made her wary. Or was her wariness because the woman was half dressed and with her hair in disarray? Sue glanced around for the woman’s half-clad counterpart but saw no one.

“Oh! Terribly sorry.” The lady was still giggling.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m sure it was my fault.”

“No harm done. Do you mind?” She turned, revealing her exposed back to Sue. “I can’t seem to reach to get this blasted contraption back on.”

“Certainly.” Sue reached for the clasps of the woman’s day dress. “I’m very discreet, just so you know.”

“That’s nice.” The woman’s shoulders lifted with a small shrug.

There was a moment of silence. Blasted silence. Sue couldn’t help but fill it with words. “I won’t even ask your name.”

“It’s Katie Moore.”

“I also won’t ask how you came out of your dress in the middle of an afternoon garden party because it’s truly none of my concern. See? Discreet.” Sue pulled on the fabric at Katie’s back to finish the job.

“I got dreadfully hot.”

Hot? Is that what she’d said? Sue scrunched up her nose in question at Katie’s back. “Hot?”

“Yes, it’s awful out here with not a whisper of a breeze. And, for the life of me, I don’t know how you ladies wear these things.” Katie lifted the hem of her day dress as if it was contaminated with some disease before dropping it back to the ground. “I don’t think I’ve taken a breath since yesterday.”

Sue finished and stepped to the side to see around Katie’s turned shoulder. “What do you mean by ‘you ladies’?”

“You know, girls who prefer salons and frills of various sorts.” Katie turned as she spoke, waving to the bushes as if they were all made of said frills.

“I am not one of those girls. I’m Sue, by the way.”

“Thank you ever so much, Sue.” She gave Sue a slap on the shoulder that made her stumble to the side. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll try to find a hidden door to the stables. No one would have such a large, utterly wasteful garden unless they had stables as well.”

“I can’t say that I know where the stables are. Will no one miss you if you leave and go to the stables?”

Katie pulled a face of confusion and shook her head. “Father will guess I’ve found something more amusing than a bunch of flowers.”

“Stay in your dress or he’ll think you’ve found something a bit too amusing.”

“Fresh air and the ability to inhale it?”

“No. I was referring to…never mind. I hope you find the stables.”

“Not to worry. I think they’re that way.”

“How do you know?”

“I can smell the shite. All right…well, have a nice time…you know, sipping punch or whatever you do at one of these things.”

Sue watched her go. She was still staring after the young girl when Holden stepped around the far corner of the hedgerow, nodding toward Katie as she passed.

“Who was that?” he asked as he neared Sue.

“A very odd lady, but I think I like her.”

Holden’s hair caught the sun as he stepped closer. He looked impossibly handsome today. Blast him. Why must he make this so difficult? Her mouth went dry as she looked up into his green eyes, crinkling at the corners as he offered her a smile.
Say
something, Sue. Now is your chance. Tell him. Tell him!
She swallowed and dropped her gaze to his cravat straight in front of her. That helped. “Holden…”

“You were right.”

“About what?” She looked back up into his face—which proved to be a bad decision. She couldn’t stop looking at his lips, quirked up in an easy smile. Two days ago those lips had been pressed to hers.
Get
hold
of
yourself, Sue. He only kissed you to shut you up.

“Not an orchestra anywhere in sight.” The shoulders of his tan wool coat shook with his chuckle.

She tried to laugh along but it came out as a breathy smile. What was he talking about? She’d lost her handle on the conversation. He was still watching her. Could he read her jumbled thoughts? If he could, he certainly had the advantage.

“Your habit of refusing me dances?” he supplied with a smile. “There’s no need to do so today since there is no dancing…and now that I’ve explained my jest, I’ve successfully removed all charm from my words.” He glanced away down the path and shook his head before turning back to her. “Of course you’ve never found me charming anyway, so I suppose that’s neither here nor there.” There was a look in his eyes. What was it? What did it mean?

She could only give a halfhearted chuckle in response as she looked up into those eyes.

He cleared his throat when she didn’t answer. “I spotted some apple tarts on a passing tray a few minutes ago.”

She regained her senses at the mention of food. Shaking her head and glancing into the green of the bush beside her instead of his blasted eyes, she retorted, “Apple tarts are better than a waltz any day.”

He held out an arm to escort her across the gathering toward the buffet set up under a large tree. “You haven’t waltzed with me. I put apple tarts to shame.”

Yes, he did. Their dance at the masquerade would live forever in her memory. He needed to know. She should tell him now. However, when she opened her mouth, all that she said was, “That would depend on the apple tart in question.”

“You wound me, Sue. I’ll have you know that ladies delight in dancing with me.”

“If you have your choice of ladies in any ballroom, why do you wish to dance with me?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. It was barely a thought before it was released into the world. And once it was there, she couldn’t take it back. She didn’t want to know the answer to the question. Or maybe she did but she didn’t think she could bear to hear it. She looked away. Her mouth opened and closed, but now no words came out. Her cursed mouth!

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