Desperately Seeking Suzanna (10 page)

“What? Lord Steelings knows a thing of beauty when he sees it, dear. Don’t you, my lord?”

Holden cleared his throat, covering his mouth with his fist for a moment. Was that a smile he was hiding? “I would greatly enjoy all of your company for ices. Why deny myself the pleasure of conversation with more lovely ladies than one this afternoon?”

“Oh, my lord, you do flatter, you rogue.”

“I have to keep the society matrons on my side, now don’t I?”

Her mother tittered with glee as they made their way down Bond Street toward the carriage. When they reached the conveyance, Lady Rightworth asked, “My lord, have you left your carriage in this area as well?”

“I arrived on foot.”

For a moment, Lady Rightworth looked as if he’d grown two heads but she quickly recovered with a smile that said she’d just been given a large stash of candies. “Why don’t you ride with us, Lord Steelings?”

“Only if your driver doesn’t mind the company. I find I like the fresh air this afternoon.”

“Oh, yes…fresh air is quite healing to the spirit, isn’t it?”

Sue glanced at her mother in disbelief. She’d never heard her utter such a phrase. This was the same woman who refused to leave the house when there was a chance of rain and complained of bugs at a picnic. She must really want Evangeline to marry Holden. Sue’s throat tightened at the thought of him as family—always around and looking handsome. Of course, she would be either shipped away to Scotland or, with any luck, married by then.

He handed them up into the carriage and swung up to sit beside the driver. It struck her as peculiar that he was a titled lord and yet he chose to ride with the driver. It was a fine day, but she’d never seen a lord riding alongside a carriage driver—ever. Was that truly his reasoning, or did he not want to spend even a second longer than necessary in her company? If that was the case, the feeling was mutual.

Sue wasn’t the wagering sort but if she had to bet on his reason for sitting with the driver, it wouldn’t be in favor of a sunny afternoon. She stewed over his avoidance of her for the entire trip through the busy streets, while Evangeline and her mother discussed hats and how Lord Steelings must be faring in the elements of nature. By the time they reached Gunter’s Tea Shop at Berkeley Square, she’d come to two conclusions: one, she hated hats, and two, she wished it would rain on his head.

Her mother and Evangeline emerged from the carriage like birds rising from a field, a gentle breeze tugging at their artfully arranged hats and making their dresses billow behind them. Sue was pleased she didn’t trip and fall into a mud puddle. She tried not to think about Holden’s hand wrapped around hers as he guided her to the ground. She tried, but she was unsuccessful. Dratted man.

By the time they sat around the stone table in the park across from the tea shop, she was sending him silent curses encased in pleasant smiles.
Blast
his
golden
hair. Blast his smooth talk and charm. Blast his swoon-worthy green eyes. Blast it all.
She needed sweets or she would surely not survive this afternoon.

Therefore, when the tea room’s staff approached them, Sue and Holden both opened their mouths to speak. “I’ll have the elderflower…” They broke off, looking at one another.
And
blast
his
taste
in
sweets.

Holden glanced up at the waiter. “It appears the lady and I will have elderflower ices.”

“With an extra bit of honey on top of mine,” Sue added.

Her mother made a tsking sound from across the table. “How you can stand such sweetness I will never understand, Sue. Positively disgusting. Extra honey, indeed.”

Holden shot Lady Rightworth a daring look and said, “Extra honey on mine as well. Thank you.”

Her mother coughed into her handkerchief and muttered, “We’ll both have vanilla in the shape of roses.”

“Yes, m’lady,” the man said as he left.

“Lord Steelings, your aunt tells me you have an interest in antiquities. We have quite the collection at our home. You’ll have to come and take a look one day.”

“Yes.” He looked away in the direction of the tea shop. He appeared to be attempting to will their ices to arrive quickly so he might leave. He sighed and turned back to her mother. “I do enjoy collections of interesting items. I’ve been focused on my art gallery of late.”

Evangeline leaned forward to join the conversation. “Oh? Did you know Sue is interested in art as well?”

“Evangeline, he doesn’t want to hear about your sister’s little drawings. I’m sure he wants to hear more about your interests. Don’t you, Lord Steelings?”

They broke off their conversation when the ices arrived. It was an awkward moment of “Oh, thank you,” and “How nice.” The silence extended while they each took a bite.

Evangeline finally set her spoon on the rim of her saucer and looked up at their mother before saying, “Mama, the vanilla was an excellent choice, not too sweet at all…ooooooh!”

Sue watched as honey-covered ice splattered across Evangeline’s shoulder.

“Sue Green! How could you? All over your sister’s dress? We’ll be back at once, my lord.” With a final glaring look at Sue, her mother dragged Evangeline into Gunter’s to repair her dress.

How had that happened? One minute she’d been delving into her saucer of ice and the next… She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to do that. In fact, I’m not entirely sure how I managed it.” Sue stared at the spoon in her hand as if it held the answers. She wiggled it between her fingers. Perhaps she’d flicked her wrist at just the wrong moment.

Then she heard it, the rumble of suppressed laughter from the opposite side of the stone table. When she glanced up, Holden’s eyes were crinkled at the corners with merriment, and he was leaning back in his seat. Soon, he wasn’t able to contain his amusement and released a shower of hearty laughs that seemed to shake the maple tree above them.

She stared at him, unable to believe his nerve. “You did that?”

“As if you didn’t want to.”

Poor Evangeline. This was perhaps the first time that thought had ever crossed her mind, yet she did feel sorry for her sister with a large stain on her day dress. Mother was most likely in need of smelling salts by now from the tragedy of it all. Sue grinned, unable to help herself. “That’s neither here nor there,” she countered without conviction.

“Ah, but your matchmaking mother and sister are neither here nor there as well now, so I can enjoy my afternoon in peace.” He took a large bite of his elderflower ice around a grin.

Sue shifted on the stone bench. “Do you wish me to leave as well?”

“Are you going to attempt to marry me?”

Sue almost choked on the ice in her mouth. She’d once considered it, but now… “No.” She hurled the word from her lips. Had she said “no” too quickly? Would he know of her past thoughts on the subject?

“Then you may stay.” His voice held an air of flippant disregard.

He hadn’t noticed, and somehow that grated on her even more than if he had. Half of her wanted him to realize who she was, and the other half wanted to run away from him as far as she could go.

“How generous of you,” she returned, her jaw tightening around the cold bite of ice in her mouth.

“I’m nothing if not a gentleman.”

“And an art collector,” Sue mused, trying to put the puzzle pieces together in some logical order that would assemble this man.

She watched him scrape all of the honey from his saucer and take a large bite of it, his eyes softening with the enjoyment of the sweet taste. He swallowed, the muscles in his tan throat just visible above his cravat. “I gather you have an interest in art as well?”

She ripped her eyes from his throat and looked into his green eyes, which was a mistake since now she couldn’t look away. He was asking her something. What was it? Oh, art—that was it. She pulled her thoughts together enough to mutter, “You could say that.”

He froze, his eyes narrowed on her. “I could.”

Silence fell between them for a moment. What was he thinking? Had she said something wrong? She took a shallow breath, waiting. He finally shook his head, tossing his golden hair in the sunshine, and laid his spoon down.

The tension seemed to ease, yet she needed to fill the void between them. It was too quiet with only a bird’s distant tweeting to punctuate the silence. “I paint a bit…and sketch. Mostly landscapes…

“I like to capture the unexpected, to hold something wild in the palm of my hand.” She held out her hand, looking into it as if some great treasure could be found there. Dropping her fist back to her lap, she smiled up at him. “Do you know what I mean? You probably believe me to be crazy. However, I see the greatest beauty in…”

She glanced around for an example of nature and waved one hand toward a tree branch hanging low beside them. “That leaf falling from the tree, caught on the wind, experiencing the last of its life in pure freedom. That’s far lovelier than any jewel or any gown found within a ballroom.”

“Where do you paint while in London? The park I suppose, since you prefer natural settings.” He rested his forearm on the table, watching his spoon as he twirled it between his fingers, spinning it on the saucer.

“Oh. I’m…” Her eyes landed on the hand lying idle in her lap. “I’m actually not allowed to paint or draw while in town.” She raised her chin with a slight huff. “Someone might see me with paint on my arms, and then the family would be the topic of the latest on-dit.”

He looked up at her with a smirk, his blond hair falling into his face. “The horror.”

“Yes, I can see the headlines now… ‘Miss G. may have an untarnished image since she remains in a chair against the wall in every ballroom, but her arms are certainly marred—with red!’”

“Red?” He quirked a golden brow in her direction.

“Yes, it’s much more dramatic that way because it could be blood. They do have to sell copies of the papers, you know.”

“Ah, I see. So, you’re either an artist or a murderer. London society may never know the truth.” The corners of his mouth lifted in amusement.

“Not until they buy another edition and find out.”

“Who made this clearly logical yet inconvenient rule about painting in town?”

“Who else? My mother.”

“Ah, yes, she does seem to rule with an iron fist. It’s a common issue with mothers.”

“What of your mother? Does she rule your family?”

Something passed across his face for a moment and then it was gone. Regret? Uncertainty? Dread? He looked away, and when his gaze returned to her, his eyes were shuttered and his smile fixed. “My mother passed away many years ago.”

“Oh. My lord, I’m terribly sorry to have asked… How inconsiderate of me.”

“Never mind that. It was long ago. My mourning has been over for some time.” He stabbed at his ice in a manner that indicated he still held on to some anger on the subject.

She watched him for a moment, wondering. How old had he been when his mother passed away? Had he cried? She couldn’t imagine a man like the one sitting across from her ever crying over anything. He was far too self-assured and jovial for that. Perhaps if she asked more, he would tell her about it. “My mother says your father stays in the country. Do you ever see him?”

“No…I…” He looked at her, his distress on the subject visible as he spoke. “Can we not discuss… Miss Green, your ice is about to drip down your…”

“Ahhh!” A freezing cold spoonful of elderflower ice hit her skin just above the lace trim at the neck of her dress. She leaned forward and reached for it with fumbling gloved fingers. Too late. The sticky bit of ice slid between her breasts to land in her stays. “Haaa. That’s rather cold.”

“Mmm-hmm, ice is known for its coldness above all other qualities. It’s quite slippery as well. It also melts on warm skin.”

When she looked up at his teasing statement, she saw his eyes were locked on her bosom. Glancing down to see what held his attention, she realized she was leaning forward with a drip of honey disappearing into her dress. Her breasts were practically displayed for him, and she was now frozen in this position, leaning over him. “I apologize, my lord.”

“Holden.”

“Pardon?”

His eyes swept up her neck and met her gaze. Green. So very green. He blinked. “You may call me Holden.”

Her lips moved but no sound came out. Holden. She’d said it before. But now…it hurt too much to say it again after what had passed between them and then been stripped away. She clamped her lips closed. She wouldn’t say it, even if she did have his leave to do so. Not today. Perhaps not ever. How often would she be alone with him after all? This would never happen again. It truly didn’t matter, if she viewed it in that light. He was still looking at her. Was he waiting for her to say his name? Because she wouldn’t. “Sue,” she heard herself say.

“Is that short for anything?”

“No.” She sat back down on the stone seat. “Just Sue, unfortunately.”

“Well, Sue, it’s been nice chatting with you. However, your sister and mother are returning, and I feel the parson’s noose tightening around my neck with their every step. So, if you will excuse me, I will be on my way now.”

“Thank you for the pleasant company as well. I enjoyed the ice, all except for the bite that went down my dress.”

“Really? That part of our time together was my favorite.” He was still laughing as he walked away, disappearing into the maple trees.

The moment her mother reached the table, her glare descended on Sue like an angry cat denied a meal of fresh mouse. “What did you say to make him flee, Sue?”

“I didn’t say anything.” The smile slipped from her face as Holden drew farther and farther away.

“You sat in silence? No wonder he left so quickly.”

“I said things. We discussed art and…our mothers.”

“You brought up his mother in the conversation? You can’t bring up the dead in conversation, Sue.”

“She’s been dead for some time. He didn’t seem distraught.”

“Of course she’s been dead for some time. Everyone knows that. But you ought not to mention the dead over sweets. Everyone knows that as well. Or I thought they did.”