Desperately Seeking Suzanna
Read Desperately Seeking Suzanna Online
Authors: Elizabeth Michels
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical romance, #Regency
Copyright © 2014 by Elizabeth Michels
Cover and internal design © 2014 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover illustration by James Griffin/Lott Reps
Cover photography by Jon Zychowski
Model: Kristy Kaminski
© Shutterstock/Stanlslav Bokach
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410
(630) 961-3900
Fax: (630) 961-2168
For Sylvia—who knits, but not in an evil way. You’re the best mother-in-law ever! I love you bunches!
Torrent Hall, north of Brighton
March 15, 1816
“Who are you supposed to be?” Holden asked, adjusting the animal skin draped over his shoulder as he attempted to settle further into the chair.
“I’m Helen of Troy, of course,” his cousin April stated as she adjusted the folds of her skirts around her legs. “I simply adore dressing for dinner, don’t you?” As she straightened, her gaze turned serious and her eyes narrowed on him. “Who are you, anyway?”
“Attila the Hun, although I’m regretting the decision at the moment.”
Only the Rutledge family would concoct such a plan for the evening of his homecoming—a historical dinner involving costumes, no less. He finally pushed aside the fur with a shrug of his shoulders. He’d worn the damned thing through dinner; surely he could remove it now without issue. “I suppose it would be outlandish to dress as ourselves and talk of the damp English weather.”
“It would indeed.” April drew back in mock dismay, bumping into one of her sisters on the settee beside her in the process and causing a clatter of teacups and squeals.
Holden chuckled as he glanced toward Aunt Penelope and Uncle Joseph, who were sitting and chatting in the corner of the drawing room, seemingly unaware of the din of girlish voices around them.
It was nice to be back. He liked the familiar sights and sounds of Torrent Hall, even if he had to dress sometimes in a ridiculous costume. It was a price he was willing to pay, for this was the closest thing to home and family he’d ever known. He grinned and took another sip of his drink.
Piles of books lined the walls of the drawing room, stacked so high the room almost appeared to be made of a patchwork of leather. Abandoned embroidery, paints, and stationery covered the side tables, leaving only small spaces where polished wood was visible.
As it often did, the room rang with laughter as April attempted a dramatic fling of her arm indicating the tea tray. It would have been a convincing Helen of Troy imitation had one of her bracelets not flown from her arm and hit Uncle Joseph on the head.
“Sorry, Papa!” April scurried across the thick rug to retrieve her lost jewelry, her bright pink dress swirling around her as she moved.
“No damage done, dear,” Joseph replied, rubbing his balding head and shifting Caesar’s wreath of leaves askew in the process.
Holden couldn’t contain a chuckle over April’s ensemble now that he truly looked at her. She had taken the excuse of her historical persona to wear every piece of jewelry in the family’s possession. Her arms were laden with jewels. Pearls were layered on top of diamonds surrounded by sapphires, all shimmering in silver and stacked up to her elbows. No wonder she was losing them with every shift of her arms.
What gentleman would she tie herself to this season? So far she had been more interested in the ball gown she wore than the gentleman with whom she twirled the floor. That would change soon. With the Rutledge dark hair and exotic eyes, she was too lovely to remain unwed for long. He would have to keep an eye on her while in London—all of his cousins, really. Not that he minded surrounding himself with his lovely cousins. After all, Holden Ellis, Viscount Steelings, was always surrounded by beauty. Beautiful ladies, beautiful clothing, a beautifully appointed town home. He was known for it.
There was always a lady longing to be on his arm and have her name linked to his for a time, a short time anyway. His thoughts were pulled back to the present with the barking of the puppy Jan played with on the floor, the curl of her dark ringlets shining in the light of the fire. At least he wouldn’t need to worry about her presence in society for a few years yet. He would have his hands full with only three Rutledge ladies in London.
“May, you’re not in character. Joan of Arc would never say that.” June pushed her spectacles higher on her nose to level a proper glare at her sister.
“I only asked for more tea. Have you ever worn armor? It’s terribly heavy. I’m positively parched from the effort.” May shifted her breastplate to the side and sank further into the chair.
June’s eyes darted over her sister’s attire before giving her a shrug of her shoulders. “I simply don’t see Joan of Arc as a tea drinker. And you need to at least speak with a French accent if you aren’t going to attempt the true language.”
“You aren’t in character either, June,” May returned, finally tossing the armor to the floor and reaching for the pot of tea on the table. “You may be wearing bed linens, but you’ve yet to say anything profound or insightful.”
“I’m Socrates!” June countered. “I’m quite certain he was opinionated.”
“Yes, and he spoke his opinions in Latin,” May returned with a grin.
“That’s a dead language.”
“Precisely.” May smiled and turned her dark head away from her sister.
Holden’s attention drifted to April as she asked, “Mama, is all planned for the ball?”
Aunt Penelope’s eyes filled with happiness at the possibility of her daughter’s involvement. “There’s always much to do, if you’re volunteering.”
“No,” April replied a bit too quickly before offering her mother a smile. “I was only asking so that I might begin selecting my gown. I want to coordinate with the décor but not match it.”
He heard May mutter into her cup of tea. “Why does it matter? It will look just as all your other gowns do—pink.”
Aunt Penelope frowned in response before turning back to April. “You will look lovely, my sweet. Don’t forget your mask, though.” She beamed and clasped her hands together. “I already have Sara preparing mine for the event.”
“It’s to be a masquerade ball this year then?” Holden asked, unaware of the change in plans as he’d only arrived at Torrent Hall that morning.
“Yes, did I forget to mention that fact? I do hope you have a mask with you. If not, we can find one for you to wear.”
“As it happens I brought one.” He’d discovered long ago that it paid to be prepared for all wardrobe eventualities when staying with the Rutledges.
“Oh, perfect!” Aunt Penelope exclaimed with a jump, making her Cleopatra costume catch the lamplight and cast green sparkles around the room. She grew still as she watched Holden, making him tense about what might be to come. “I feel as if I’ve forgotten to tell you something…”
Aunt Penelope did this often. She was a bright lady, although her mind frequently traveled in two directions at once. Down one path lay glittery masquerade masks and down the other lay her opinion on how Holden should be living his life. He didn’t mind. It was actually nice to be worried over. He waited, returning her gaze. What would it be this time? His blond hair had grown too long for fashion? He needed to eat properly or drink less?
“Lady Rightworth came for tea yesterday while you were out.”
“Rightworth,” he repeated, trying to remember the name. “Is she the one with the hook nose?”
“No! She’s quite handsome, but that’s neither here nor there.” Aunt Penelope waved away the comment with the back of her hand. “She asked after you, wanted to know if you would be making the rounds in London this year, since you’re back in the country. I assured her you would.”
“Why would she want to know my schedule? I’m not even entirely sure of whom we’re speaking.”
“I believe she has her eye set on you for her daughter. She’s introducing her to society this year. Evangeline, I believe.”
May gasped. “That’s horribly unfair of her. She should be focusing her efforts on Sue who is almost on the shelf as it is. Now, with Evangeline coming out, Sue won’t stand a chance.”
April rounded on her sister with a superior “I’m far older and wiser than you” voice. “May, you can’t force gentlemen to dance with such an obvious wallflower as Sue. Some ladies are perfectly content with spinsterhood, you know. Lady Rightworth cannot make her elder daughter a diamond of the first water any more than I can make flour into a cake.”
“When have you ever gone to the kitchen and tried to make a cake? Which proves my point perfectly, just so you know.” May crossed her arms with a frown.
Aunt Penelope intervened before anyone came to blows, which she did so often as to not be upset by it. “Girls, it is not our place to interfere with the goings-on inside the Green household. Lady Rightworth can see to her family as she chooses. I only brought this up to let Holden know he was spoken of over tea yesterday.”
Holden leaned forward to regain his aunt’s attention. “Why would she be interested in me? I’ve never met either of her daughters.”
“Holden, you are getting to be of an age…”
“Nine and twenty is an age, all right. Thirty, forty, and fifty are ages as well, and I plan to see them all without a leg shackle, thank you.”
Uncle Joseph leaned into the conversation, his toga draping over the arm of his chair. “Don’t be defensive, Holden. Your aunt is only trying to help. Perhaps this would be a good time to peruse the available ladies.”
“Uncle, I peruse ladies every chance I get. I just have more interest in young widows with no interest in marriage.”
Aunt Penelope gasped and shot him a look of disapproval. “Holden! Don’t speak of such things in front of the family.”
“My apologies, Aunt Penelope. At this point I’m not even certain how long I’ll be in England. This trip was rather sudden.”
“Speak of what in front of the family?” Jan asked from her seat on the floor before the fireplace. “What did Holden say? Was it clever? What did I miss?”
Holden needed to change the subject to something far from the topic of his marriage prospects. He glanced at his youngest cousin where she sat curled on the floor in a Leonardo da Vinci costume playing with her new dog. “Da Vinci killed puppies for sport.”
“He did not!” Jan pulled the puppy in her lap closer into her arms to protect him from harm.
“You’re right. It was only the brown ones with white paws he favored for puppy murder.” Holden laughed in response as he’d just described the ball of fur Jan was holding.
“Holden,” his uncle murmured when the conversation around them turned to Jan’s newest pet.
Holden turned to face him.
“I understand your reservations in regards to marriage. Every man experiences a young man’s love of freedom, but what of an old man’s loneliness? Look at all I have.” He smiled at his family scattered around the room. “I want the same happiness for you. I only ask that you consider it.”
Holden gave his uncle a tight-lipped nod before returning his attention to Jan and her puppy. It wouldn’t take him long to consider the issue of marriage. There. He’d considered it. And it was never going to happen. It couldn’t.
***
Sue raked her eyes across the garden, searching for movement. All remained still. Only a slight breeze rustled the trees beyond the stone walls. They were safe.
Straightening, she started to push the sash of the window closed.
Squeak!
She cringed at the sound, although the herd of cats at her back in the darkened hallway was making far more noise than any window was able to produce. That’s what she called them, for that was the way they acted—always preening, strutting about, and demanding attention as they drifted through life on a smile and a coy rejoinder. They were also known as her sister and twin cousins. Sue rolled her eyes and slammed the window shut with one swift motion.
She turned, shooting identical glares at her identical cousins through the holes in her dark masquerade mask. “Shhh…we’ll all get caught if you two don’t stop arguing. Does it really matter why she stepped on your toe, Victoria?”
“It matters to my toe,” Victoria huffed as she adjusted the bright green, bejeweled mask higher on her cheekbones, shook out her matching gown, and took a dramatic step away from her sister.
“For goodness’ sake! Isabelle didn’t mean to injure your toe.” Sue lengthened her stride to catch up with her sister, pulling Isabelle along with her as she hissed over her shoulder at her other cousin, “It’s dark and she was crawling through a window.”
“She did it on purpose,” Victoria stated with a raised chin, looking like the exotic peacock she was dressed to resemble, the feathers woven into her hair trembling with indignant hauteur.
“I did not,” Isabelle argued from Sue’s side, her yellow mask shifting as she scrunched her nose.
They were halfway down the hall now. The farther they drew away from the window, the more Sue relaxed—which was very little. This was a terrible idea. At least she was of age, but her sister and twin cousins hadn’t even been presented at court or had any sort of introduction to society yet. It was only a matter of a week, since they would leave for London in a few days, but if they were caught at a masquerade ball, Sue knew exactly who would take the blame.
She’d said no when the girls first approached her about attending tonight. Yet, with Evangeline and Victoria involved, Sue knew they would have come anyway. It always fell to her to be the sensible voice of reason. Sensible, simple Sue Green. She rolled her eyes. No wonder she was still in the market for a husband after four failed seasons. Who would want to marry someone like her?
She glanced to the side, watching one of Isabelle’s blond ringlets fall over her cheek in perfect bounces with every step. She would be betrothed within the month. And, of course, Evangeline would have no troubles. Renowned beauties rarely had issues capturing a gentleman’s attention.
Evangeline threw her hand out to stop their journey down the shadowed hallway. Sue bumped into her sister, her nose squashing into the back of Evangeline’s deep blue gown.
Sue ran her fingers over her mask, checking for dents as she peered around her sister to see what had stopped their progress. “What? Did you hear something? Is someone coming?”
“
EEEEE!
” Evangeline squealed as she turned around to face them. “I hear music from the ballroom!”
Sue gave Evangeline a shove in the shoulder for causing her heart to stop, if only for a brief moment. “Of course you hear music from the ballroom! We’re sneaking into a ball.”
Victoria drifted up to them now and peered over their shoulders to see why they’d stopped. “I need to find a mirror to pull myself together. I can’t be seen with leaves all over my skirts.”