Desperately Seeking Suzanna (18 page)

He ran a hand through his hair, and she almost heard his own curse released under his breath. Or had she imagined that? “Take a stroll with me? After the apple tarts, of course—we must have priorities. I believe I saw a sculpture garden around the far corner. I’ll act the perfect gentleman and it isn’t a dance, so no need to refuse me on principle.”

“Very well. I have something I need to discuss with you anyway.” As they wove through the crowd on the lawn, she tried to calm herself. All she needed to say was “I’m Suzanna.” How difficult was that? She took a breath and glanced up at him to see he was watching her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re quiet. You’re never quiet—or nearly never.”

“I know.” She bit at her lip. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Then say it. I know you couldn’t possibly be carrying some dark secret…could you?” He raised an eyebrow in question. “I know you would never hide anything from me.”

“And if I did have such knowledge of which you were unaware…”

“There is no reason not to tell me, Sue. There never was.”

“I…” She looked away, biting her lip.

“Hmm, now I’m intrigued. May I guess your secret?” There was a mysterious gleam in his eyes as he looked down at her.

“I’m not sure that you can.” She almost laughed.

“That’s not very sporting of you.”

Her heart was racing. Surely at her next statement, he would guess her truth.
It
must
happen, Sue.
She licked her lips and said, “You may ask me two questions. Isn’t that how this game is played? Or so I recall.” Heat rose in her cheeks at the memory of their game on his bed that night.

He paused, his eyes crinkling at the corners with his apparent enjoyment of her situation. Then with a twitch of his lips, the look was gone, replaced by a piercing glare.

Did he now know? Had he taken her hint? Did that bring her relief or further worry—she didn’t even know.

He flashed a grin as he asked, “Do you secretly sell your artwork?”

She scrunched up her nose in confusion. Her artwork? He didn’t remember their game? Had he forgotten about Suzanna? It was true he hadn’t asked after her in a few days. Perhaps only she remembered that night now. Where relief should reside there was only disappointment. Perhaps it wasn’t as prized a memory for him as she’d thought. She twisted her hands together before her. Her artwork. In comparison, that secret didn’t seem to matter anymore. “Do I secretly sell my artwork? Yes, yes I do.”

“Ha! I was right. You sign your work SAG, don’t you?”

“I do, but…wait… How did you know? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew you collected my paintings. I simply thought… Was it the sketchbook? Did I sign something?”

“No, it struck me when I walked past one of your paintings this morning. There was a distinct sameness, a familiarity.”

The irony that he could connect her with her artwork, but not with the woman he tussled with in his bed a fortnight ago, was not lost on her. Perhaps he didn’t remember her anymore, but she remembered him.
Secrets, always so many secrets.
She was done with it—all of it. She was going to tell him about Suzanna and make him remember her. “Speaking of familiarity…”

“I know. We need to talk about what happened in the garden. That’s the true reason I wished a walk with you today. Sue, I hope you can forgive me. When I kissed you…”

“Stop. I need to tell you something. Now. It’s important. About who I am.”

“You’re an artist. That’s all you wanted to say, correct?” He glanced away and she thought she saw a trace of laughter when he turned back to her. “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m actually quite pleased to discover I’m friends with an artist whose paintings I collect. That doesn’t happen every day.”

“Friends,” she repeated. Is that how he saw her? Had it all meant nothing to him? Even yesterday afternoon?

“Yes. You are my friend, aren’t you? When I said I wanted to shut you up in the garden, I only partially meant it.”

“You meant it?” She crossed her arms before her as she stared at him.

“Only partially.” He laughed as he grabbed two tarts from a passing footman.

“I suppose we’re partially friends, then.”

He turned back to her and leaned closer to whisper, “Can I purchase the other half with an apple tart?”

“Perhaps.” She smiled in spite of herself and accepted the sweet from him, taking a bite. She must tell him now. Her opportunity was fading; soon it would be gone. He only considered them friends, nothing more after all. What did it matter if she was Suzanna? It was just another secret.

Their kiss didn’t seem to mean as much to him as it had to her anyway. Friends. Would they laugh about this later? Or would he be revolted by her and cut her from his life? The bite of apple tart in her mouth turned bitter and she had to choke it down.

“You do know that I never mentioned which paintings I collect. It’s interesting to me that you
assumed
I collected yours.”

“You mentioned it once. I’m sure of it.” She looked down at the small plate in her hand, fixated on the tiny pink roses winding around the edge. He’d mentioned it. Only it was on the night of the masquerade ball
. This is your chance, Sue. Tell him.

“Did I?” he asked around a bite of tart.

She glanced up in an attempt at innocence, cursing her nerves. “Oh, certainly.”

“When?” The intent look in his eyes made her heart race.

Not for the first time this afternoon, she wondered if he already knew her secrets. She blinked. Her lips parted. She needed only say the words, yet her confession refused to leave the safety of her mouth. Instead she said, “I believe you’re out of questions.”

“You’re using that as an excuse. Why, Sue?”

“Another question. Oh look, there’s my mother.”

“You’re seeking out your mother now?” He nudged her elbow to move to the side of the party where they could continue their discussion. His fingers lingered a moment longer than was respectable, leaving her skin warm. “Is my company so horrible?”

“Yes, but I rather enjoy it.”
And that is the problem,
she finished in silence with a glance up into his face. Her heart pounded in her ears.

“As do I.” He seemed ill at ease as he shifted on his feet. “Sue?”

“Yes?”

“The reason I pester you for dances—dances you refuse, but dances nonetheless…” His gaze seemed to look through her to her core. “I enjoy this. You.”

“And I refuse you because I enjoyed our dance too much,” she finally blurted out, emotion welling up behind her eyes the moment her words were set loose.
Don’t cry, Sue! You ninny!

“Ahh, this must be your big secret… When did we dance, Sue? Just say what you mean to say.”

“In a dream, Holden.” She sniffed away the threat of tears and continued, “I wore a dark rose gown tied with ribbons. I was quite foxed, you see…”

“Dreams can seem quite real, can’t they? I’ve experienced the same inexplicable fantasy. Do go on.”

He didn’t understand. He thought she was teasing. How could she explain? “That night in your bedchamber…”—she attempted to clarify—“it was me.” Had she said that last bit aloud or only declared it in her mind?

His face was unreadable. Just then her mother walked up, shoving Evangeline in front of Sue like a prize pony at a harvest festival. Her opportunity had come and gone. She’d failed. Why was she able to say everything else in the world except the very thing that needed to be said? Or had she said too much already?

***

“Yes, the weather is warm this afternoon,” Holden agreed with Evangeline as his eyes swept the garden for the girl’s sister.

As he led Evangeline past a row of roses, he caught sight of Sue standing by the table laden with food. Her fingers were poised over a bowl of chocolates as she made her selection. She lifted the sweet to her lips and popped it into her mouth.

“I do hope the weather cools a bit, don’t you?” Evangeline said at his side.

“I suppose.” He craned his neck to see over the people milling about the lawn for another glimpse of Sue. Finally, he spied her. She was sucking on the piece of chocolate while a satisfied gleam filled her eyes—eyes the color of autumn leaves. He wondered yet again how he’d been so dense as to not see who she truly was. And now he was trapped strolling about this garden with her sister when Sue had as good as admitted she was Suzanna only minutes ago. “Damn it all.”

“I know. I find the sun rather bright today as well. And look at my sister…lifting her face to it and allowing herself to tan or, worse, freckle. What can be done with her?” Evangeline laughed.

“I find I’m wondering the same thing.” As they grew closer, he caught sight of an escaped lock of Sue’s hair stretching out in the breeze like a banner announcing Suzanna’s arrival. “Burnished gold,” he muttered to himself.

Sue had been right all along—he was blind. “Bloody hell.”

“Pardon?”

“I can…hardly tell…if your sister has freckles from this distance.”

“I don’t believe she does. I know I don’t have any. Mama says they’re the sign of a life lived in dirt.”

“Does she?” Whatever insulting comment came next, Holden didn’t know. He was too focused on his own stupidity when it came to the girl’s sister. He’d been so focused on finishing what he started with Suzanna that he’d lost sight of what was staring him in the face—Sue.

“Doesn’t that sound lovely, my lord?”

“What? Oh yes, indeed.”

“Perfect! Mama will be ever so pleased when she sees us sitting together.”

“When?”

“Dinner at the Amberstall event? You said…”

“Oh, yes. That.” What had he agreed to do? He hadn’t been listening to a word the chit said.

“That.” Evangeline tittered and hit his arm with her fan. “You do make a nice jest, my lord.”

“So I’ve been told by a few. I suppose I’ll see you at Amber Hollow, then.”

“What’s this?” her mother interrupted. “Arrangements to see one another again? And after only one turn about the garden.” She clasped her hands together in excitement. “It doesn’t take long, does it, Lord Steelings?”

“I suppose not if one chooses to stride it out instead of stroll. It can be done quite efficiently.”

“Oh, Lord Steelings, your wit is not under- estimated.”

Damn, here came the tittering. He hated the tittering. Sue never tittered. Her laughter was like… He sighed.
Raindrops
falling
on
metal.
How had he ever been so daft as to not see the truth right in front of him?

“Will you excuse me?” He needed to speak with Sue—now.

“Certainly, my lord. I look forward to our seeing one another again.”

“Quite,” he offered, not taking his eyes from Sue. She would not slip through his grasp again. Not today.

He moved through the crowd, closing on her position beneath the tree. He watched her pop another sweet in her mouth, then look down at her glove, now stained with melted chocolate. She pulled a face of concern, glancing to the side before her tongue escaped her mouth for a quick lick. She was still rubbing at her fingertips when he approached her.

“If it isn’t paint, it’s chocolate.”

“Oh, Holden. Did you see? Um…” A blush spread up her neck.

“I’m seeing quite a bit lately, and I must admit I’m enjoying it. We never made it to the statuary garden.” He extended his arm. Where should he begin? He’d never offered an apology and then attempted to remain linked with the lady he was in debt to before. This was all new. They passed through the gate into the small garden marked by cherubs perched on columns.

“Holden, earlier I said some things. Well, I’m quite sure I rambled a bit, which I know I’m prone to do, but I said something in particular. I think I did, anyway. I believe I’ve become overheated in the sun today because I can’t recall if I truly said what I meant to say. But know that my intention was to say it.”

“Clearly.” He began laughing against his will.

“You’re laughing.” Her head tilted to the side as she looked at him. “Do you have the ability to ever be serious?”

“Only when losing at cards and kissing ladies.”

“Both of which I’m sure you do often.”

“I’m quite good at cards, I’ll have you know.”

“And the ladies?”

“I’m quite good at that as well.”

She shot him a look of annoyance.

“I see you remain unconvinced.” He turned to meet her eyes, tracing his fingers down the edge of her jaw before dropping his hand. “I admit I have some regrets when it comes to you, Sue.”

She pulled away from him as if struck. “It’s the kiss in the garden, isn’t it? Everything else is just words, and as you said, we’re friends. Good friends. Really, that’s all it could be. You regret it. It’s all right. I suppose I regret it, too.” She looked away across the garden.

Was that true? She only desired his friendship? He’d never hated his own words more. He’d meant he regretted overlooking her at the masquerade ball. Should he keep the knowledge of his oversight to himself and allow her to find happiness without him? Continue on as friends? Nothing more? His chest tightened.

She would find some other gentleman. She would marry and bear children. Something inside him snapped. He’d finally found her. She was his. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled a puff of exasperation before looking back in her direction. “You do? You regret kissing me?”

He watched her but her eyes were on the marble statue of a lady before them, revealing nothing.

“Certainly,” she bit out through a clenched jaw before falling silent as she rounded the statue, staring up at the white fabric draped from the lady’s shoulder.

“I don’t,” he stated as he followed her around the statue.

“What?” Her head snapped around as she looked up at him.

“The kiss wasn’t what I wanted to discuss with you. I don’t regret kissing you. I’ve only regretted one kiss in my life, and that was the result of a dare when I was sixteen. She bit me.”

“Perhaps I’ll try that next time.”

“Now you assume there will be a next time?” he teased. “Only a moment ago you regretted kissing me. My pride may well be wounded, Sue. Have you no compassion? And how do you know that I’m not ready to move on to my next conquest by now, rake that I am? I could have a rule about multiple kisses with a lady.”