Page 103 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
Henry let go of Susan’s hand as his mother embraced her. ‘Congratulations. We are all topsy-turvy of late for obvious reasons, but you are most welcome, Susan, dear.’
His father shook his head at Henry.
Henry shrugged. There was nothing to say, no one would condone this rush, and nothing could change it.
He looked at his mother. ‘Might Susan stay with you, Mama, while I fetch the licence? Things are understandably difficult for her at home.’
His mother looked at Susan. ‘Is Alethea very upset?’
‘Not upset,’ Henry answered. ‘Angry.’
‘Which is understandable,’ Susan added.
‘And Casper?’ his father asked.
‘Is accepting what must be,’ Henry answered.
‘My father is disappointed in me, also understandably,’ Susan answered.
His father sighed out a breath of frustration, loaded with the accusation that Henry was a son who had failed him.
‘I shall go.’ He looked at Susan. ‘I should imagine I will be back in a couple of hours.’
‘Sit with me.’ His mother held out her hand to Susan. ‘I would welcome your company.’
Susan smiled. It was the first smile he had seen since the moment of her acceptance.
He brushed a kiss on her cheek before leaving.
26
Henry had felt clear-headed today, and surprisingly not anxious. But that was because Susan had occupied his mind. ‘Susan.’ He looked up at the canopy of the bed. He had left the candle burning at the bedside. It had burned down to a stub.
He was marrying her tomorrow, so he had not drank any wine, or liquor, because he did not want to wake with a thick head. But consequently, doubts had crept in with the darkness. The thoughts that had been a blessed distraction all day, were tormenting him in the dark.
He had no idea if this was the right thing to have done.
Yesterday he had taken choice from them both.
Marriage… It was such a step, and life had almost seemed to decide it for him. Only months ago, he was adamantly against the idea. ‘Coward.’ He rolled to his back, then to his other side.
Samson stretched out his hind legs trying to claim more of Henry’s bed.
Married… Would he feel suffocated? Tied? He would be committed. There could be no change of heart. There would be nomore curricle racing or raucous nights in brothels. Yet he had not slept with a whore since… When? ‘Before my curricle accident,’ he reminded himself.
He tumbled back onto his back again, with a sigh, wishing he was asleep and not thinking.
‘Susan,’ he sighed out her name. He had a sexual encounter with her… How had that happened? Through liquor, grief and recklessness. A moment’s error of judgement. But perhaps not an error? Perhaps a very wise decision, albeit made while he was deep in the bottle. Perhaps it was the best decision he would ever make. Without him forcing their hands, maybe they would never have reneged on their agreement to remain apart, and both lived unhappily ever after.
Tomorrow she would be here, in the bed beside him… That was one part of marriage he had no trouble imagining.
The candle flickered, scattering shadows across the room, then it guttered and extinguished, sending the scent of burning into the air along with the more pungent smell of melted wax.
The relationship between him and Harry, and him and his other friends, would be entirely different. As a married man he would not be able to speak of the things they did, let alone do them.
But. ‘Love. This is a new feeling. A new beginning.’
With love came heartbreak – he thought of William.
