Desperately Seeking Suzanna (19 page)

“Your pride seems intact to me.” Her face contorted in disbelief. “And you have no such rule.”

“Don’t I?” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “And how would you know that, Sue? What if…I simply can’t endure ladies who are so clinging that they follow me into a dark library at a ball to have relations with me, for example?”

“I would never follow you into such a clandestine location.” Her gaze dropped to her feet, her hands twisting into a knot at her waist. “Not to mention that if I did go to such a place, it would be because I was lured there under false pretenses.”

“But you would never do something so…scandalous. Would you, Sue?” He tilted his head to the side, trying to see her face. “You, Sue Green, would never find your way into my bed in the middle of a ball to which you had no invitation.” He needed to see her face. He lifted her chin with a light touch until her eyes met his. “Would you, Sue? However, a kiss on a garden bench, that’s allowable. Isn’t it?”

Her eyes were wary as she regarded him. “Holden…”

He loved the way her lips moved when she said his name, like a small plea to be kissed with every syllable. He slipped his hand up to cup her cheek. “Yes, Sue? Or should I say Suzanna?”

She took a ragged breath before speaking. “About you not wanting any more secrets…”

“I believe I’ll make an exception for this one.”

The distinctive sound of a society matron clearing her throat rang out in the warm afternoon air. “Lord Steelings, you must be lost in this garden with such oppressive statuary.” Disdain dripped from Sue’s mother’s voice as she moved closer.

His hand fell away from Sue but he couldn’t look away. Their eyes locked together as challenge met dread and wrapped itself in wanting. He needed to leave. Her mother was here after all—her marriage-minded mother. He took a step away with a practiced smile. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I must go. Miss Green, I look forward to your refusal of my dance.” With a bow, he left without a backward glance.

He knew. Sue’s ragged breath fogged the carriage window as she stared out at the buildings they passed. He knew of the masquerade ball and the library; he knew her cousins had lied to hide her. But what did any of it mean? She needed to talk to him, to explain. Or perhaps he was the one who needed to explain. She couldn’t keep track anymore. Everything with Holden had become so blasted complicated.

“I’m quite pleased with your progress today, Evangeline. Lord Steelings is certainly a difficult catch, yet catch you did.”

Sue’s head spun with a speed that sent a pain up her neck. “What happened?”

“Lord Steelings asked me to go in to dinner with him at the Amberstall event. Mother is quite happy.”

“And what of your happiness, Evie? Are you happy?” Sue studied her sister.

“Of course she is, Sue. Don’t be silly.”

“Is inquiring after my sister’s happiness silly? I suppose so. Dining with a gentleman like Lord Steelings, she must be thrilled.”

Evangeline turned troubled eyes on her. “Sue…”

“I’m not quite sure when he found the time today to ask you, though. You certainly make quick work of things, don’t you?”

“Indeed,” her mother boasted.

Holden and Evangeline would now be sitting together at dinner. Their names would be put together by every matron in attendance. And Sue would watch as she always did. When had he arranged it? One minute she was hoping for her own happiness, and the next her sister had stolen it away once again.

It could be for the best. He knew her secret now. She should be able to free herself of her connection with him. She could move on—to what, she didn’t know, but on somewhere nonetheless. And he could move on as well. But hadn’t he said he enjoyed her company? Hadn’t there been heat in his eyes as he gazed at her? Surely, she hadn’t imagined it.

The carriage stopped before their house, and a footman assisted her to the ground. What was real and what was illusion? She was beginning to understand Holden’s confusion over her identity. After all, she couldn’t keep track of him, either. Evangeline was floating up the steps to the house beside her. She was perfect. Sue could never compete with her sister for a gentleman’s affections. Clearly, a union between Holden and her sister was Mother’s wish, and no one went against Mother’s wishes—Evangeline least of all. If this was a contest, Sue would lose. And yet…

And yet there had been a glimmer of something in Holden’s eyes today when he looked at her. Was it hope? She wasn’t sure, but as long as there was a speck of it there when she saw him next, she would cling to it. She took a breath and followed her family through the front door.

“You’ll need all new ensembles, of course,” her mother stated as she removed her hat and handed it to a maid.

Evangeline shot an apologetic glance in her sister’s direction. “Sue will need at least one new dress, don’t you think, Mother?”

“Sue will look fine. You will be the one catching Lord Steelings’ eye, not Sue.”

Sue swallowed the words but they didn’t sit well in her stomach. Her eyes narrowed on her mother as her hands began to shake with anger.

“He only wishes to sit with me at a dinner,” Evangeline replied. “That’s hardly a proposal.”

“It’s not a proposal
yet
, my dear. These things take time.”

Something inside Sue snapped like an overextended twig from the garden. She ripped her hat off and threw it on a table, having heard enough for one day. “Mother, what would you think if I caught Lord Steelings’ eye instead of Evangeline?”

“You? Lord Steelings would never look twice at you, dear. He’s only being kind to you because of your relation to Evangeline.”

“I see.” Sue swallowed, watching her mother remove her gloves as if not a thing was amiss, not a single thing.

“Good. It wouldn’t do to get your hopes up in that regard.”

“Yet it is good for Evangeline to expect a betrothal?” She glanced at her sister, who was making a thorough study of the inside of her reticule.

“Evangeline is the sort of lady Lord Steelings is looking for as a wife. She would complement his good looks, title, and money.”

“And I wouldn’t.”

“Simply because a gentleman shows you kindness does not mean he is interested in you, Sue.” Her mother shot her a sympathetic look.

“I didn’t think that. I only…”

“He looked terribly weary from your company when I saw him today.” Mother turned from her with a sigh and began fussing over the state of Evangeline’s hat. “That was why I decided to rescue him from the awkward situation of showing you statuary. He appeared quite relieved to see me, in fact. You’ve never understood how to read these things in gentlemen. That is part of your problem, Sue. Albeit a small part of your problem, but a problem nonetheless.”

“Rescue him? He was not weary. I will never understand, Mother, how you think it right to hide me away to protect gentlemen, only to throw Evangeline at those same gentlemen.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Sue.”

“Neither does being tossed aside in favor of my sister. If you’ll excuse me, I’m feeling quite weary from
this
conversation.”

Sue ran up the stairs, not pausing until she heard the soft click of her bedchamber door, indicating that she was alone. Jealous? Her mother thought her jealous? She didn’t want what belonged to Evangeline, only what was hers. Was he hers to lose, though?

You? Lord Steelings would never look twice at you, dear.
The words refused to leave her mind. She recited them in her memory as if practicing for one of her mother’s dreaded poetry readings. Over and over the words rang in her ears, burning her every time.

Feeling thoroughly singed, she crossed the room to the wardrobe in the corner. She shoved her shifts and a pair of gloves aside and pulled a box of paints and an unfinished painting from the back. Mother and her rules could jump from a high cliff. She needed to escape her situation, and the best way she knew to escape was through art. Glancing down at her dress, she sighed at the thought of changing. What did it matter if there were a few paint splatters on her skirts? No one would notice anyway.

She opened her paints and began to mix the colors. The night sky in her current piece needed to be finished. Purples swirled with blues into a storm of darkness trapped on canvas. She paused to look out her window into the growing nothingness of evening. The painting needed to be deeper than London’s skies at night, enough so that she could disappear into its depths. She whipped the brush in long strokes. It had to be bold, bolder than she could ever be. Larger than she could ever be, more beautiful…beautiful. The word sank like an anchor in her stomach.

It had to be beautiful—something she would never be.

Pushing a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand, she slashed her brush across the canvas once more. Holden had once thought her beautiful—before he’d seen who she was beneath her mask. Could he see her that way again or was that moment lost forever? She would know soon enough.

***

Holden descended the main stairs of the Amberstall home still shaking his coat into place. He’d ridden with Thornwood all the way here at the breakneck speed his friend insisting on maintaining. Holden still wasn’t sure why they needed to arrive in such haste, but one never knew when it came to Thornwood’s ideas. Yet, he’d been glad of the wind on his face today. That was until he’d caught sight of himself in a mirror after arriving.

He’d left Thornwood in the stables to come clean up before seeing Sue. Sue. What would he say? It had been two days, and still he had no idea how to proceed with her. He only knew he needed to see her.

He slipped past the hosts of the party while they were busy greeting a new arrival. If Sue was here already, she would be with the other guests on the terrace. He moved through one of the drawing rooms toward the wall of glass doors thrown open to the terrace. Outside, a few guests milled about munching on sandwiches. For once he couldn’t spare a thought for the food served.

As soon as he stepped out into the sunlight, he saw her leaning against the half wall overlooking the large expanse of grass. Her head was tilted up as she chatted with her friend. What was her friend’s name? Phillips, Lillian Phillips—that was it. Sue turned back to the lawns before her. She looked like a sugared lemon today in a yellow dress bound in white, and just as with any sugared lemon, he wondered if she would be sweet or tart. He supposed it was time to find out the answer to that question. With a sigh, he took a step closer.
Be
charming, Holden. You’re nothing if not charming.
He smiled and moved behind Sue, who was still chatting with her friend and oblivious to his arrival.

“I would like to try and find the hidden lake I heard was here,” she was saying.

Perfect! Fate was shining on him at last! “I shall take you to see it, then.”

Sue turned at the sound of his voice, the tension visible in her shoulders. Her lips parted to speak before closing again.

Miss Phillips cleared her throat. “That is very kind, Lord Steelings. However, we were about to partake of some of those lovely sandwiches over on the buffet. I’ve heard wonderful things about the cucumber sandwiches. Have you tried them?”

“Yes. Dreadfully dry. But I wouldn’t want to stand in your way if you wish to try one. Come along, my lady. I’ll show you that hidden lake you wished to see. I’ve been there many times.” Perhaps many times was an exaggeration since he’d never set foot on this estate until this afternoon, but if there was a hidden lake, he would find it. He offered an innocent smile as he read the hesitation in her eyes.

“I shouldn’t go just now,” Sue rushed to say. “I was only thinking…”

He took half a step forward, his eyes never leaving hers. “Tomorrow all of our moments will be planned for us as the party begins in earnest. It’s not far.” He extended his arm to Sue and held his breath, hoping she would take it. She stared at his arm for a second before her eyes lifted to his face, beautiful eyes filled with warmth.

“Yes, all right.” She pulled her gaze away to toss a parting smile in her friend’s direction. “Lillian, I’ll return shortly.”

“I believe the nature walk begins over there in that grove of trees.” He pointed to a far point on the lawn that seemed a likely place to conceal a body of water.

“And that leads to the hidden lake?”

“I certainly hope so.”

“You can’t recall?”

“You could say that.” He grinned down at her as he led her down the stone steps to the lawn.

“You don’t know the way, do you?”

“Of course I do.”

“You’ve never been there, have you?” Her nose scrunched up in disbelief as she gazed up into his face. “I’d wager you didn’t find the sandwiches to be dry, either. Do you even know the direction of the lake? Or are we to walk in circles until we stumble upon it?”

“It’s a lake. How hard could it possibly be to find?”

“I hate to point out it’s called the ‘hidden lake.’”

“Ah, but take comfort in the fact it’s not called the ‘hidden mud puddle.’ For that would be considerably more difficult.” He led her into the grove of trees, relieved to see a beaten path leading away from the lawn.

“Why hide a lake in the first place?” she mused at his side as they moved farther into the shade of the forest. “On most estates, the owners seem as proud of the lake as they are of the family title. I’ve seen entire homes oriented around a lake that’s really more of a pond, yet here they hide it away and put the stables on display for the world to see. Do you find that strange?”

He chuckled. “Have you met Amberstall?”

“We met a few years ago.” There was a hardened note in her voice that said there had been more to it than that, but she didn’t elaborate.

He quirked a brow in her direction. “And you still question his pride in his stables?”

“I believe his pride goes without question. I was merely speaking as to the wisdom of that pride.”

“Again, have you met Amberstall?” He smiled down at her as they rounded a bend in the path. Stepping over a tree root sprawled in front of them, he glanced around. The woods were growing denser as they walked, yet the trail ahead remained. He could almost see sunlight in the distance, dripping down like golden rain between the leaves above. For all his flaws, Amberstall did have a nice estate. Holden nodded in satisfaction as they moved through the trees.

“Is your estate a reflection of you, too, then?”

Her question stopped him. His estate? He hadn’t been to his childhood home since he rode away at eighteen. What would it look like today?

He picked up a tree limb from the ground and tested it as a walking stick. His house in London was his home now, not rented rooms in Iceland, not rooms above a shop in Belgium, not a cottage in Scotland, and certainly not Pemberton. He would have to go back there one day, but that would not be any day soon. For now, he wanted to stay. He’d never tried that before—staying.

If she wanted to know about his home, he would tell her of his house in London. “I do try to keep a nice home. I have perhaps too many pieces of art. My butler complains about the clutter but he’s rather disagreeable to begin with, so I don’t think he minds overmuch.”

“Why not let him go if he’s disagreeable?”

“Fezawald is family. Not in truth, but the only truth I’ve ever known.”

“He’s very fortunate to have you. Mother sends servants away almost weekly for less. I never know who will be gone by morning. Soon I think it may be me.” She laughed, but the laughter didn’t reach her eyes.

“You have her at an advantage, though. Don’t you see?”

“Do I? How is that possible?”

“You’re tiny. You can hide. She’ll never find you to toss you out.”

“Oh!” She shot a glare in his direction.

“Surely there’s a drawer you could tuck yourself away within.” He laughed as she shoved him. “A hatbox? Oh, come now. You’re short. You must know it. I can’t make a jest?”

“You are a giant who…is too tall.”

“That was pitiful. Try again.” He turned to face her.

She tapped her lip with the tip of her finger for a moment before dropping her hands to her waist with a dejected frown. “I can’t insult people on command.” She shrugged. “Your ears are uneven on your head.”