Desperately Seeking Suzanna (23 page)

“Oh.”
Blast
it
all.
“I suppose I have no excuse to refuse tea then, do I?”

“My home is just there.” Henrietta pointed to a spot beyond the row of trees inside the wall encircling the park. “Come along.”

Sue trailed along beside the woman. She was in no mood to take tea but didn’t see a way to politely refuse, either. It wouldn’t take long. One cup of tea and she would be gone. They crossed the street just outside the park gate and made their way around the corner.

Henrietta led her to a handsome brick home with cream-colored trim. Orderly flowers marched down either side of the stone path leading to the front door. Above them, windows had been thrown open to allow the sunshine inside. Somehow the home didn’t fit with her impression of Henrietta. This was a cheerful home. And if there was one thing Lady Pemberton was not, it was cheerful. She shook off the thought and ascended the stairs to the front door.

Stepping inside beyond an ancient butler, she stopped to stare in awe. Gilt-framed paintings in a variety of sizes covered almost every inch of the red wall above the dark-stained wainscoting that ran around the hall. Lord Pemberton must have an interest in art. She glanced up the stairs where they arched up the back wall of the room and saw that the paintings extended as far as she could see.

She turned back to Henrietta, noticing the large statue of a Grecian lady at the woman’s shoulder. Her head spun. There were handcrafted urns flanking one door and another sculpture of a young girl in the front corner next to a side table. The house was exquisite. It was one part museum, one part home, stirred together into a delicious concoction. Again Sue wondered that someone like Henrietta lived somewhere so beautiful. Her dress was frayed at the edges, and yet her entryway rug was imported from some exotic market.

“You must excuse the décor. It’s my son’s home. He enjoys paintings. I plan to redecorate for him. Just after I relieve him of his nosy staff,” she said with a pointed stare at the butler.

“I’ll fetch a maid to ready your tea.”

“That would be lovely.”

When the man was gone, Sue turned to ask, “You have a son?”

“Certainly, I do. He’s the dearest thing in the world to me. Let’s go into the small dining room. It’s a better location for our private chat than the main parlor, don’t you think?”

“Very well.” She almost walked past it. Almost missed it. What caught her eye were the tiny dots of grazing sheep on the hillside in a painting she passed. Those dots had taken her nearly a fortnight to master. Her heart was slamming into her chest.

How did one of her paintings come to hang here?

Was Holden not the sole collector of her work? There were others? She still struggled with the idea that anyone would want her paintings. This season her paintings seemed to be in every home in London. Perhaps this was a sign. She would survive in life as an artist. She was no lady’s companion. She was an artist—a starving artist, perhaps, but an artist nonetheless. Maybe it had been a good idea to come here today. She needed to be reminded that she could earn wages on her own. She didn’t need the crumbs Holden offered. She didn’t need her family. She didn’t need anyone.

“You like this one?” Henrietta asked from over her shoulder.

“Yes, it’s different. How did you come across it?” She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“No accounting for taste, I suppose. I’m sure it’s from a shop in France. My son has lived there for several years. He only arrived home a few months ago. I’m quite pleased, as I’m sure you can imagine. We’ve been busy becoming reacquainted…”

France. Sue’s mind raced to catch up with the rapid fire of her thoughts. She turned to face Henrietta, blurting out the one question spinning around in her head. “Lady Pemberton, who is your son?”

“Holden Ellis, Lord Steelings, of course.”

No. Sue stumbled back one step, her gaze frozen on Henrietta, Lady Pemberton. Was that his father’s title? She couldn’t remember. But Henrietta’s intense green eyes told the truth.

The truth.

What did she know of the truth? She knew Holden’s mother was dead. He’d said so. They’d spoken of her on multiple occasions. On all occasions she’d been deceased. Her mother even believed the woman dead. How could this very alive woman standing with her be Holden’s dead mother? His dead mother was standing here with her in
his
home. He’d lied. There was no other explanation. She shouldn’t care. It wasn’t as if they had a future together anyway. She never wanted to see him again. But she did care.

“You look as if you’ve seen an apparition. Come, let us have some tea. The tea will make everything better.”

“Yes, tea would be lovely.” Sue sank into one of the chairs set around the small table. Tea with a dead woman. She found that thought didn’t distress her nearly as much as the threat of seeing Holden again inside his home. Yet there was no way to leave. Not now.

The old butler supervised the delivery of the tea tray to the table before her.

“Thank you, Fezawald. I can see to it from here.”

“Very well, m’lady.” The elderly man cast a wary glance over her before turning for the door.

Fezawald was Holden’s butler. She recalled the name. He’d told the truth about his disagreeable butler but lied about his mother’s death? Of course, none of it mattered. Not to her. She would never get tangled with that man again.

Henrietta sat across from her and raised the teapot from the tray. “Sue, you know I have the most delicious berry juice that, if added to your tea, is said to make all your troubles with a man disappear.”

***

“Holden,” Aunt Penelope offered in greeting over the top of her book. “What are you doing here at such an early hour? I’m afraid I’m the only company to be found this morning. The girls are still abed and your uncle is out for a ride.”

He closed the heavy library door behind his back. “I have to leave.”

“You just arrived. Have some tea at least. I’ll ring for a tray.” She closed her book and tossed it onto the sofa seat beside her.

“I have to leave London.” He moved away from the door to stand in the center of the room. “Today.”

She froze halfway to her feet, her wide eyes never leaving him. “What do you mean, you have to leave?” She stood, turning to face him. “You said you would stay this time. What about…”

“I must. I can’t stay here.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked away, unable to meet the accusation in her eyes.

She turned and began pacing before the fireplace. “What of your mother? She isn’t back within Brooke House, I know. Your father told me of it. You know what that woman’s presence means for this family.” She paused, placing her hands on her hips. “My family.”

He twirled the large globe on the table, watching it spin at top speed. “She’s also leaving town.”

“With you?” Aunt Penelope shook her head. “Have you lost your mind as well?”

“No, not with me. I made it fairly clear she couldn’t stay with me, even though she refused to return to the hospital.”

“Then what shall we do? We can’t very well have her on the loose in London.”

He looked up, watching his aunt struggle with the riddle that had kept him awake all night. “Then let her leave London as well.”

“And trust her to do so?”

“If I leave, she won’t stay.”

“Send her to Brooke House and stay, Holden. She isn’t worth you uprooting your life once more.”

“I don’t have a choice. Staying here and watching as life continued would be too difficult.”

He turned away, walking to the front window. “I spoke with Mother this morning. She won’t hurt anyone. You have my word on it.”

“Your word. The reputation of this family on your word.” He heard her sniff into the silence. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just… Holden, you cannot leave when Henrietta is still about.”

“And yet I cannot stay.”

“Why? Why would you risk the good name of our family?”

“It’s no risk. No one will learn of my mother’s existence if she leaves town.”

“Then why must you go as well?”

“I’ve stayed too long already. I thought I could manage things this time. Have a life.” He closed his eyes, still seeing Sue’s face shining with tears in the moonlight. “But that’s not to be.”

“Is this about a lady? You’re risking everything to run from some girl with notions about you?”

“It isn’t like that, Aunt Pen,” he ground out, watching the silhouette of his jaw move on the windowpane.

“Then tell me. Why are you fleeing when your family is here, your life is here?”

“Because I can’t watch her,” he said, his breath fogging the glass.

“Watch who? Perhaps I can help.”

No one could help. It was over. He’d lost Sue all over again. “You’ve done enough, Aunt Pen.”

He could feel her approach behind him. She was the closest thing to a mother he would ever know. Not that woman across town. He knew that now, and what did he do? He burdened her with his situation. At least she was safe and alive at the end of things. If his mother knew of his fondness for Aunt Pen, she would be killed just as it happened with his brother. The same would have happened with Sue. He couldn’t be close with anyone. He was damaged, and that’s the only truth he knew.

“Holden…” Aunt Penelope began at his back.

“God! Why must I destroy everything I touch?” He pounded a fist on the window frame, relishing the rattle of the glass. Maybe it would shatter. Everything else in his life shattered; why not this, too? He pounded the frame again and sneered at the glass sitting unaffected and shiny.

“Holden, you are a good man. You simply never allow anyone to see that side of you.”

He spun around to face her. “I can’t very well run around town telling the truth of my life, though, can I?”

“Is that the problem? Have your secrets pushed this lady away?”

“No,” he bit out. “I never let her close enough for that to be an issue.”

“You could trust her.”

“To what end?”

“Happiness. Peace. Marriage?”

“I won’t endanger her life. I won’t. Sue has a pure soul. She’s better off without me.”

“Perhaps she is stronger than you believe her to be,” his aunt offered with a smile.

She thought she’d won, but she didn’t understand. He could never marry.

“Strong enough to endure attempts on her life? You know it would only be a matter of time. As long as my mother lives, I can’t have anyone in my life. It wouldn’t be safe for Sue. And I would never rest, knowing I’d caused this danger she would live under. No. It isn’t right.”

“Then send your mother back to the hospital where she belongs, Holden. Be happy.”

“Even then, you know the truth of my life. Will I take her with me when I run out of funds and go in search of work abroad? I can’t provide a life for her.”

Aunt Penelope shot him a disapproving look at the vague mention of his relationship with his father. “And what is to come of this lady if you leave? If you abandon your family, what will that accomplish for her?”

“For her? Nothing. But it would save me from seeing her again. Knowing how close I came. How I almost…” He’d almost found it. Almost found the love he’d spent a lifetime searching for.

“Holden, dear. You already have.”

She was right. He had found love. He loved Sue. Then he’d broken her heart and watched her walk out of his life. “Yes. I suppose I have.”

“Why not stay? Why not try once more?” she pleaded. Of course she wanted him to stay, but she had also always supported him in all his life decisions.

He moved away from her, going back to the window. It was easier than looking her in the eyes when he said good-bye. “I can’t lose Sue again. And I would rather lose her as I already have, knowing she has a chance at life and happiness, than lose her completely as my wife. I can’t watch her live without me. But I can’t watch her die with me, either.”

He turned and punched the window out at his side, watching his perfect reflection splinter into a thousand pieces at his feet. His aunt gasped as he pushed past her and strode out the door.

“I don’t have any man problems,” Sue said to Henrietta.

“Don’t you, dearest? I’ve seen you keeping company with my son. You can’t hide anything from me, you know.”

“It appears not. However, since he’s your son, I don’t think it wise for us to discuss it. The tea smells lovely. Did you add the berries you spoke of to steep?”

Henrietta clucked her tongue. “You won’t get away that easily, dearest.”

“I misspoke. Do forgive me. I no longer have any man problems. That is what happens when you no longer have men in your life. No men, no problems.” She paused to force a laugh that sounded much like Evangeline’s titter.

“Why do we put up with them? Men are such infuriating creatures. They wear horse blinders through life and then still manage to bungle it up in the end. We’re better off alone. I’ve always felt sorry for the horses having to wear those dreadful blinders, forever marching straight ahead, never stopping to look around and enjoy the view. It’s sad some horses live entire lives without…”

“My son is not infuriating. My son is perfect. We have a flawless family.”

Sue’s eyes narrowed on the woman. That day in the garden, Holden had mentioned his mother had murdered his brother. Was that true? At the time, Sue had felt honored to know such pieces of Holden. But now? Had that all been a lie to draw her near enough to kiss? Had she fallen for the tricks of a lothario? She knew him to be a rake, but had everything been a lie to influence her actions?

“Would you like a sandwich, cake?”

“Cake, please.”

“Are you certain? It’s chocolate. This home is sorely lacking in anything edible, I warn you, but they always serve this chocolate cake. I find it tiresome. The cook clearly needs to find other employment, but she remains…for now.”

“I’ll try it all the same, if you don’t mind.” Chocolate cake. He’d compared her artwork to chocolate cake once. Had that story been true? She didn’t know anymore. Perhaps it had all been lies with illusions of friendship, caring…love?

Henrietta shrugged and handed Sue the plate.

“You never answered my question about preparing your tea, Henrietta. The flowery scent is delicious in this small dining room.”

“I haven’t yet added my secret ingredient. This is simply the blend of tea kept in store. I thought we would talk a bit more so I might determine how much of it you need.”

“There are dosages? If this tea is medicinal, I shouldn’t take it. I don’t care for tonics and such. My mother once told me I…”

“You will drink it when you are told!” A vein in Henrietta’s forehead pulsed with her words.

“Oh dear. Have I fallen into bad etiquette by refusing the tea? Blast it all, I did it again. Why do I keep making these blunders? And I cursed. Oh drat. Yes. Well. Clearly, I don’t have a firm handle on any social situation. Perhaps that’s why I’m on the shelf. These things do seem to matter to everyone. Everyone but me. Although Lord Steelings didn’t seem to mind. Of course my blunder was asking after you, and now I realize he wasn’t grieving your loss at all since he likely had luncheon with you that day.”

“Why would he grieve my loss even if we hadn’t had luncheon together that day?”

“Because I thought you dead.” She gasped and covered her mouth. Why had she blurted that fact? Had she completely lost her mind?

“You are mistaken in several things, Sue Green.”

“Obviously, since you’re here and we are having tea.”

“About that tea. I believe it’s time to serve it. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll retrieve it from my rooms and join you again in a moment.” She rose and rounded the table.

“Why not have a maid see to it? Or leave the maids be and let them enjoy the afternoon. I really should be going. I’ve taken too much of your time already.” This was her chance to slip away. She stood and turned toward the door, only to be stopped by Henrietta’s tall form blocking the doorway.

“I have plenty of time, dearest.” With one last sweeping glance that sent shivers down Sue’s spine, she was gone. But it wasn’t until a moment later when Sue heard the soft click of a key turning in the lock that she knew real panic. She didn’t need to try the door to know she was locked inside. She didn’t need to, and yet she did, over and over and over again.

***

Holden leaned farther over Muley’s mane, urging him forward. The cobbles of the street raced past as he sped down the street. He needed to be away from this place. The dull ache in his chest would surely subside once he was beyond anything familiar. There would be nothing to remind him of Sue in the next town. He would cease thinking of her and feel whole again, he was certain. Faster! A vendor dove from his path as he rounded a corner near the edge of town. He didn’t even spare a glance in the man’s direction, only saw cabbages fly through the air and heard the cursing.

There was only one option left to him—leaving London. He would have taken the North Road toward his cottage in Scotland but he’d told Amberstall, the poor chap, that he could stay there until he recovered. Perhaps Wales. He’d never been to Wales. Who would he claim to be this time? A shop owner again? He’d need a name as well. His jaw clenched at the promise of starting over—again.

Why had he thought he could stay this time? Sue. Sue had changed everything. A guttural animal sound escaped from deep within his chest. He knew now. He could never return and he could never have her. His life was ahead of him—on the road, moving forward, always moving.

Sue’s future was ahead of her as well—in London at the next event. That’s where she belonged. Having her in his life was only a brief, mad dream. It wasn’t where she belonged. Not with him. She would be free with him gone. She would find a husband. Surely her family wouldn’t turn her out at the end of the season. At any rate, she’d made her decision clear concerning him.

If it was so clear, why did his mind keep circling it like a bird of prey closing on its kill? Anything that had been between them was already dead and carried off by some other animal. He knew that.

It was over.

The situation couldn’t be more final than his leaving town, leaving her to be happy, marry, live her life beside another, bear his children. He closed his eyes for a long blink against the rush of wind. The image of Sue holding a small blond babe sank into his mind—a beautiful sight. He wanted to hold her there, watching her lips curve into a smile.

“Watch it, gov!”

He opened his eyes with a snap and gave a flick of the reins to avoid colliding with a hack. His oath fell behind him on the wind to be washed away with rain and time.

Then he saw it, the Stag and Doe. He’d gone there for a drink with Thornwood a few years ago on one of his visits to town. It was a grimy little tavern, but it somehow managed charm within its crumbling walls and dark windows. Of course, right now he didn’t care if it was a dirty hole in the ground, as long as there was whiskey. The stronger, the better. Perhaps it would burn away the ache in his chest—for a while anyway. He pulled back on the reins and was on the ground tying up his horse within the minute.

He flung the door open, breathing in the heavy scent of liquor and dust with a sigh. He hadn’t left the city yet, but here he was in another world apart from the one in which he lived. Here he had no name, no family, and no problems. He was only a man in need of a drink.

“A bottle of your best whiskey,” he called to the bartender before falling into a chair.

The man behind the bar considered him for a moment before pulling a bottle down from a high shelf. “It isn’t the fine stuff I’m sure you’re used to, m’lord, but it’s the best we’ve got.”

“Is it liquor?” Holden called out across the nearly empty room.

“Yes, m’lord.”

“Then it will do just fine.”

The man rounded the end of the long bar and set the bottle of dark liquid down on the table. He also offered a small glass cloudy with age and grime, but Holden waved it away. He may need to drink and forget, but he would not be drinking from anything as vile as that. Lifting the bottle to his lips, he let the fire of the drink slide down his throat in a large swallow. Soon his memory of her would fade. Perhaps with another swallow he could forget her. Tossing back more of the whiskey, he paused to see if it was working yet. “No,” he mumbled, putting the bottle back to his mouth.

“My lord!”

He turned to see his butler striding in the door. What happened to no one knowing him here and his plan to be on his way after a drink? “Fezawald, what the devil are you doing here? Is this where you come on your days off? No wonder you require so many naps.” He pushed a chair out opposite him with the kick of one booted foot. “As long as you’re here, pull up a chair and have a drink.”

The old man’s face hardened with duty. “I can’t do that, my lord.”

“Titles and propriety don’t exist here, Fezawald.” He waved his arm to the side, indicating the dilapidated tavern. “No one cares. Have a seat.”

“No, my lord. I followed you here from the Rutledge home. I’m only pleased you slowed your pace so we might speak.”

“There’s nothing left to say, Fezawald. My word on it from this morning stands. I’m leaving. As always, you will have the run of things while I’m away. Long enough to close up the house and join me, anyway. I’ll send for you soon, once I know…Fezawald, what is the matter with you? Stop your infernal finger-tapping on the table and sit.”

Fezawald lowered his voice and leaned over the table to say, “There is a young lady in your home being seen to by your mother.”

God, no! What had he allowed to happen? His chair slid across the floor with a screech of wood as he stood.

“Do I need to say more, my lord?”

“No, I believe that says it all, Fezawald.” He was already tossing money onto the table and striding out the door before his butler could reply.

***

Sue tried to lift the window sash again with no luck. Henrietta must have known the windows were painted shut and she had no exit. She pushed at the window, only hearing the clinking rattle of the glass against the frame. How long before anyone noticed her missing? Tonight? Tomorrow? She had spent the past day locked in her bedchamber. Would they think her still there? Would they care?

She sank into a chair to survey her surroundings. There must be some way out of this mess. She drummed her fingers on the wooden arm of the chair. Eventually Holden would return home, wouldn’t he? Or did he have something to do with all of this? She was trapped in his home after all. Did he put his mother up to this? Did he plan to keep her here until she was well and thoroughly compromised so he might get his way and have her as his mistress? She wouldn’t have thought it likely of him, and yet he lied so easily.

His dead mother was alive. That was a rather large falsehood. What else was a lie? When he told her she was beautiful? When he said he cared for her? She didn’t know anymore. Perhaps it had all been an illusion. One thing she did know: she did not want to ever see him again. Sitting in this small room, that prospect seemed unavoidable. She needed to escape.

She tapped her finger on the arm of the chair, considering the window again. Then standing, she spun the chair around and lifted it by the back. There was nothing for it but to hold her breath and be done with it. Holden could walk in that door a thousand times over, but he would not find her within the confines of these walls.

She flung the chair, wincing at the crash of the glass as it shattered and fell around her. Pushing the chair into a bush outside, she climbed onto the windowsill.

A breeze blew in through the jagged opening in the glass, greeting her cheeks with the sweet air of freedom. Struggling to balance, she pulled at her skirts where they bound her legs together. “Blast and the devil!” she cried out as she braced her hand on the splintered wood beside her.

“Such a foul mouth, Miss Green. You really should try to be more ladylike when at tea.”

Henrietta. Sue’s hand tightened on the frame. The impact of glass driving into her hand sent a tremor of pain up her arm.

What had she done?

Heat seared through her palm as the glass pierced farther into her skin. Warm blood trailed down her arm as she was pulled from the windowsill. “No! Let me go! Take your hands off me!”

“And breaking the hostess’s windows out of the house is improper on all levels.” Henrietta dragged her from the room.

“My hostess should be locked away in an asylum alongside her son!”

“Insulting one’s hostess is poor behavior indeed.” Henrietta tsked. “I will have to teach you what is proper.”

Flailing wildly, Sue tried to get away. She didn’t know where she would be taken, and she didn’t particularly want to find out. She could see the front door. If only she could reach it. Tugging at the woman’s grasp on her waist with her good hand, she tried to wiggle free.

Unfortunately, Henrietta was far taller than Sue and made of steel—or so it seemed. Sue’s hand was throbbing with every beat of her heart, leaving small drops of blood across the polished wooden floor.

Her heels slipped as she was pulled into another room and the door was slammed behind her.

“I suppose I’ll have to hold you here where I can keep my eye on you.”

She was thrown to the floor, her cheek scraping across the thick rug. As much as she didn’t want to see Holden again, she scanned the room for him. She blinked tears away, knowing she was alone with Henrietta. Where was Holden?