"I don't understand,"
Hughe said, finally looking up. He looked drawn, exhausted. "Why?"
Orlando shrugged. How could he
explain the need to tell Susanna everything? It had been a compulsion, and in
the end, there had been no choice. If he hadn't told her about himself, he
might have ended up as mad as Cowdrey. "Because she deserved the truth
from me, and I simply couldn't lie to her anymore."
Hughe closed his eyes and drew in
a deep breath. He opened them again and Orlando was a little saddened to see
the bleakness in their depths. "Very well. But you can't stay with us.
Your identity has been compromised."
"I know." Orlando
clasped the arm Hughe offered.
Cole shook his head and stalked
off, but he got no further than the arch and returned. He clapped Orlando on
the shoulder then quickly embraced him. "I always knew you were a bloody
fool."
"Goodbye, Brother," Orlando
said. "Stay out of trouble."
"Unlikely." Hughe also
gave Orlando a parting embrace then they both left.
Lynden rushed across the gravel
toward them, waving his hands. "Stop! My lord, where are you going? You
haven't met Susanna yet!"
"Another time," Hughe
called out then spurred his horse onward.
Lynden puffed heavily as he
watched them go. "She would have been ready in a few minutes. If only he'd
waited."
"She wanted to come out and
meet him?" Orlando asked, more disturbed by the thought than he should be.
"No. But I could have
coerced her."
Monk gripped Orlando's shoulder,
hard. "Help me get the bodies onto the cart. I'll drive them back to
Cowdrey Farm."
"I wonder who
inherits," Lynden said. "Wonder if he'll want to sell."
"Are you in a position to
buy?" Orlando asked.
"I might be, but not all of
it."
"Leave the land that abuts
Stoneleigh to Susanna."
"She cannot afford it."
"Not yet."
Monk gazed at the felled orange
trees. "Not for quite some time. Even if you do sell the products in her
stables, the remaining trees won't produce enough of a harvest to live off let
alone make a profit."
"Don't worry about
that," Orlando said. "Just promise me now, Lynden, before a witness,
that you'll leave some of the Cowdrey land for Susanna if it's offered for
sale. If you don't, I'll have to keep that letter."
"Er, uh, right. Very well.
Agreed. God's blood, I never knew how much of a fool my cousin was until I
spoke to Whipple and learned of his treachery."
"You don't plan on
continuing the communication?"
"No! Good grief, I want to
rise but not that way. I quite like my head on top of my shoulders, thank you.
It sets my ruff off nicely. I also like my estate. Sutton Hall was never meant
to be mine, but now that I have it, I want to keep it. Whipple told me it would
have been confiscated if Phillip's treason were discovered." He made an O
with his mouth and blew out a slow breath. "It has been interesting having
you here, Mr. Holt, but I can't pretend I'll be sorry to see you leave. The
sooner you're gone, the sooner life can return to normal again."
"Normal," Orlando
echoed. "I have no idea what you could possibly mean."
CHAPTER 18
H
ow was Susanna going to tell her
father? It was heartbreaking enough seeing those beautiful trees lying on the
ground, but it would be nothing compared to his reaction. He'd loved his wife
and after her death, he'd cared for the trees while Susanna lived elsewhere.
They were a living reminder of her mother's nurturing soul.
Gone.
Susanna wondered if she would
ever stop crying, and if she did, would the ache in her heart end too? She
doubted it.
"Here, m'lady, take
this," said Bessie, passing a cup to Susanna.
Susanna took it between both
hands. The warmth thawed her numb fingers and the strong spicy aroma cleared
her head a little. She sipped and the mulled wine burned as it went down. Cook
had made it stronger than usual and it banished her tears but not the sorrow.
"Thank you," she said
to the three anxious faces. "I'll be all right. Don't worry about
me."
"But we do worry,"
Bessie said, sitting beside her.
"Them poor lovely
trees," Cook said on a sigh.
"We've still got two,"
Hendricks said, falsely cheerful.
"Aye, there'll be enough
oranges on two trees to fill up some of the marmalade jars."
Some but not many. Susanna gave
them a weak smile. "Thank you. All of you."
She listened as the servants prepared
dinner and chattered about plans for the garden. She appreciated their attempts
to lift her spirits, but it was only when Orlando entered the kitchen that she realized
she hadn't been paying attention and had no idea how much time had passed.
"Monk is taking the bodies
to Cowdrey Farm," he said from the doorway. "And Lynden returned to
the Hall."
"Thank you."
"The rushes in your great
hall will need changing."
"We'll do it," Bessie
said quickly. When neither of the other servants moved, she grabbed the hand of
each and dragged them out.
"Me too?" Cook asked,
brandishing her wooden spoon.
"Aye, you too."
Orlando slid onto the bench seat
beside Susanna and took the cup from her. He set it down on the table then grasped
both her hands in his. "Are you all right?"
She nodded. "A little
shaken. Thank you, Orlando. You saved my life. Margaret would have..." She
bit her wobbly lip. There would be no more tears. Not over Margaret or Walter.
He squeezed her hands and kissed the
knuckles. His eyelids fluttered closed and he breathed deeply. "Thank God
you're all right," he murmured. "I couldn't bear it—"
"Don't." She withdrew
her hands. Listening to his words would undo her again, and she had to stay
strong for what came next. "When are you leaving?"
The question seemed to startle
him. He blinked rapidly. "Soon. But I will return."
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to help
you plant new trees." He looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "First
things first. I'm going to London, and I'm taking all of your marmalades and
succades with me. I'm sure Lynden can lend me a cart for the journey."
Now she really was dazed. "I
don't understand."
"I'm going to find
shopkeepers to stock them. Not just this batch, but any future harvests too.
Correspondence will take too long. It'll be easier to visit them in person.
Indeed, I have one fellow in mind. His customers include maids from Whitehall
Palace. Succades and marmalades made from exotic fruits are precisely what the
queen and her ladies demand. All of the nobility will be serving your produce
to their guests soon enough."
"You know a great deal about
London ladies."
"I've studied their buying
habits long enough." He smiled and her heart cracked. He was so handsome.
So kind.
And such a good liar.
What if he took her products and
never returned? What if he sold them and didn't bring back her money? It felt
traitorous to think such a thing, yet she couldn't help it. The man had proved
himself worthy when it came to saving her life, but as to trusting him...no.
"I can't let you do it,
Orlando."
"Why not?"
"I...I just can't."
He shook his head, dismissing
her. "Listen. I know you want to do everything on your own, but sometimes
you have to let others help."
"I cannot accept any more
help from you."
He stared at her for a long time
then finally looked down at the bench between them. He blew out a breath, then
another. "Give me a sample then. A few jars of each. I promise you I'll
find someone to stock the rest. Until we sell all of it, you can live off my
money. Hughe paid well, and I've had nothing to spend it on all these years. I
sent it to my brother with instruction for him to use it as he saw fit. There
may be some left, or there may not be." He shrugged as if it didn't
matter.
"You're offering it to me?
Good lord, no! I don't want it. You may need it if Hughe throws you out of the
Guild."
"He already has."
"Then I certainly cannot
accept your money now."
"You can and you will.
Susanna, you need it to rebuild this place. The money from the oranges will not
be enough, especially as next year's productivity will be down severely with
the loss of the trees. It'll be hardly enough for you to live off, let alone
fix what needs fixing."
"Orlando, stop it! Stop this
at once." She rose and paced the kitchen. "I cannot accept your
money, or your help. I am not your responsibility, nor is Stoneleigh." She
put up her hands when he began to speak. "I'm very sorry you're not
working for Hughe anymore, but you must find work elsewhere. Not here. I can't
pay you and I don't think your presence is...in either of our best interests.
Not anymore." There. She'd said it. It was a weight off her mind.
So why did she feel like her
heart had been gouged out, leaving behind a hollow cavity?
Tears stung her eyes again and
she turned to go. Orlando caught her and swung her around. The blue of his eyes
flashed bright and fierce with an intensity she'd never seen before. "Would
it make any difference if we were married?"
Everything went still. The blood
froze in her veins and her heart ceased to tick. "Is that a
proposal?" she whispered.
His smile was lopsided and
devilish. "Yes."
"But..." She shook her
head, tried to clear it. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. I want to stay
here, with you. I've had enough of killing. Stoneleigh has felt more like a
home in this last week than anywhere. Because you're here, Susanna, and I want
to be with you." He cupped her face and she almost wept again.
"Orlando..." She fought
the tears but one escaped. He wiped it away with his thumb. "Orlando, I
can't have children."
"I know. And I don't
care."
"You say that now..."
She shook her head and moved out of his reach. It wasn't about the children,
not really.
"Why not let me decide that
for myself?" There was no smile in his voice but she didn't look up. She
couldn't face him.
"Please," she
whispered, turning away. She didn't want him to see her tears. There was only
so much of his kindness she could take and remain strong. "We are not
getting married, Orlando. Not now and not when you return."
"Susanna?" His low,
rumbling voice came from close behind her. He said nothing else but she could
hear his hard breathing, feel him tense as he waited.
"I have made terrible
mistakes in the past," she said, squeezing everything within her to hold
in the tears and keep herself from shattering. "All of them were because I
listened to my heart and not my head. I ignored the warning signs and ignored
common sense. I won't make that mistake again. Not with a man who is a liar."
He didn't answer for a long time
and she almost turned around, even though she knew he was still there. She
could feel his presence as powerfully as if he were in her arms.
"I am not like them,"
he finally said. "I've lied to you, yes, but never with the intent of
hurting you. Not after I...got to know you."
She turned around because what
she had to say must be said to his face, not with her back turned like a
coward. "How can I be sure, Orlando? How do I know you're not lying now
and will run off with my orange products but not return with the money? How do
I know you do not want Stoneleigh for yourself, or you simply want to possess
me like John and Phillip did? How do I know you wouldn't change after we wed,
and become a different man, the man you've buried underneath all that charm?
How can I convince my head as well as my heart?" She was rambling but
didn't care. The words spewed out of her and she couldn't have stopped them
even if she'd wanted to.
"You have to trust me."
"Why should I when you've given
me no cause?"
"I have, Susanna. I
have."
She braced herself against the
tide of emotion welling inside her like a flooded river. "No, Orlando, I
can't trust you because you're lying again. You don't want to wed me."
"I do!"
She shook her head. "I think
your offer was made as an afterthought, when I said I cannot accept your money
or your help."
He said nothing, and it wasn't
until that moment that she knew for certain she was right. He didn't want to
marry her, he merely felt obligated. "I'm going to help you rebuild,
Susanna. I
will
return in the spring. I promise you that. I care for you
deeply. I won't turn my back on you now."
She drew in a shuddering breath. Dared
herself to believe. She
wanted
to believe him. He'd done so much for her
already. His help in the garden had been invaluable and his dealings with
Jeffrey, Walter and Monk had always been done with her best interests at heart.
Why would he do all that only to steal from her now? Why would he make promises
he didn't plan on keeping?
"Very well," she said.
"You may take all of my marmalades and succades with you."
He let out a breath. "You
won't regret it, Susanna." He clasped her shoulders, the gentle pressure
reassuring, easing some of the tension within her. "And I will return in
the spring with your money. That is my promise to you." He let go of her
and walked out of the kitchen.
She sat back down on the bench
seat, buried her face in her hands and tried not to hope too hard. The money
would be a welcome relief, but not as much as Orlando's return. She didn't
think she could bear not being with him again.