Page 12 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
The dogs walked beside them, tails swishing in the air.
She did not see Aunt Jane, Sarah or Christine when they walked through the house. Uncle Robert opened the library door. ‘There.’ He stepped back and let her pass. ‘You’ll not be disturbed. Sarah and Christine have returned to their lessons now the excitement over Henry’s return has settled down, and Jane is with Henry.’
Susan looked at him as she undid the ribbons of her bonnet. ‘Is he suffering very badly?’
‘I believe so, but it is what he deserves, and it may yet teach him the lesson he has refused to learn from me. Today I think he is simply feeling sorry for himself. He has refused to dress because it is too painful, and is remaining in his room so he might rest without the need for a sling. I am sure he will be upand about again in a couple of days and Alethea may call to fuss over him once more.’ Uncle Robert’s pitch seemed to laugh at the idea.
Susan did laugh – at his jocular manner – not at the fact that Alethea would fuss or that Henry was in pain.
As Uncle Robert’s eldest son, and his heir, Henry had been spoilt horridly.
‘Shall I have a maid bring you some tea?’
‘Yes, please. Thank you.’
‘I will have Davis tell Jane you are here, and not to be disturbed.’
She was not always sure with Uncle Robert when he was serious and when he was making fun. His tone of voice always held a lilt which had a measure of amusement and unless he chose to reveal the humour in his words, sometimes it skipped past her. His manner of mocking life, and himself, made him extremely likeable, though. She supposed it was where Henry had inherited his charm from.
‘Good day, Susan.’ He bowed his head in parting. ‘Come!’ he called to the dogs, rallying them. ‘Susan shall not want you disturbing her, you may go down to the kitchens.’
‘Good day, Uncle Robert!’ she called as he shut the door.
She set her bonnet and cloak down on a chair. The maid could take them when she brought the tea.
Her parchment, the box of water paints, her brushes and the book she’d been using were where she’d left them on the desk yesterday. She opened the giant book and sought a new orchid to copy.Ophrys apifera. It had a petal which looked as though a bee were sitting on the flower. It would be hard to capture correctly and yet she wished to challenge herself, and at least on this there were only three small flowers. Others had dozens of flowers on a stem.
She pushed her spectacles a little further up her nose then bit her lip as she chose a charcoal to sketch the picture with first.
The room seemed darker today. She looked up and realised the shutters were still closed over the windows before the sofa.
When she opened them, her mind’s eye saw Henry lying on the sofa, asleep, a patchwork of ghastly colours.
A slight knock tapped the door. ‘Come!’ The maid entered with the tea. ‘Set it there. Thank you.’
The maid bobbed a curtsy and left with Susan’s cloak and bonnet.
Susan poured herself a cup of tea, then concentrated on copying the shape of the orchid correctly.
When the clock in the room chimed once, there was a gentle knock on the door.
Susan jumped. She’d been entirely absorbed. Her teacup was still full and the tea within it chilled.
‘Susan.’ Aunt Jane stood in the doorway. ‘You must come and eat luncheon with us. You cannot hide yourself away in here all day and starve.’
Susan smiled. ‘Thank you. I will be there in a moment.’
She dipped her brush in the water, then dabbed it on the rag to dry. She looked down at her painting. It was slow work today because there were so many tiny details on the bee petals, but she thought she was progressing well. She seemed to be improving.
The family at the table were Aunt Jane, Sarah and Christine.
Uncle Robert was still out undertaking whatever business he was about.
‘Is Henry not coming down, Mama?’ Christine asked.
‘He is not. He is not dressed.’
‘But we are only family, it would hardly matter if he did not have his shirt on.’
