Page 33 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
‘Susan!’ Alethea called across the room. There were two empty seats at her table.
Susan released Henry’s arm.
‘Susan…’ Her mother tapped on the open door of Susan’s bedchamber. Susan was sitting on the window seat, reading. She looked up as her mother came in.
‘Henry has called to say his farewell.’
The book she held dropped against her knees. ‘He will not wish to see me.’
‘He has agreed to stay to luncheon, and you must come down. It would seem rude if you did not.’
And one day you will have to play supplicant and never anger him because he will be keeping you out of charity, as the spinster sister of his wife.
Susan put the ribbon between the pages of her book to mark her place, then set the book aside and stood up.
‘Henry was in very high spirits last evening,’ her mother commented as Susan slipped on her shoes, ‘and he does seem earnest regarding his affection for Alethea.’
Susan crossed the room. She had discovered likeable qualities in Henry during this visit and enjoyed dancing with him last night. He was a good dancer, even with a weak arm, and he had been pleasant company. He had taken her teasing with a solid chin and made her laugh. Then during supper, he spoke to her as much as Alethea and Captain Morgan.
And he did seem to be sincere in his attentions towards Alethea. Yet… Why did that thought make something heavy tumble through her chest? It should not make her feel melancholy.
She smiled at her mother, hiding the unsettled feeling in her chest.
When they walked into the drawing room, Henry stood. ‘Susan.’ He actually walked across the room to take her hand and kiss it gently.
‘Is your shoulder still sore from dancing?’ she asked.
He smiled slightly, and his eyes glittered. ‘It is, yes.’
‘You are not driving yourself, I?—’
‘No. Have no fear. I am travelling in my father’s carriage.’
‘You must not race your curricle until your shoulder is fully healed.’
‘I thought you did not like me to race it at all…’
‘Henry…’ Alethea clasped his upper right arm. He winced as he let go of Susan’s hand.
‘Shall we go through to luncheon?’ Alethea said.
Susan stepped aside, so they might walk on ahead. She walked behind them with her father, who had an expression of proud approval in his eyes and in his smile. It seemed there was hope for Alethea’s happiness. Perhaps Henry was finally growing up.
Alethea talked constantly to Henry as they sat beside each other at the table. Though their father continually broke intoAlethea’s and Henry’s tête-à-tête to ask questions of Henry, and several times Henry brought Susan into the conversation with a comment. That was something he would not have done before. Their relationship had changed during his visit home this time. They had learned to understand each other, not simply tolerate one another.
Each time he spoke to Susan it made her smile. He was making an effort to be kind to her – denying his natural selfish leanings. Yet it was not selfishness really, merely that he had always been carelessly self-centred, never taking the time to look beyond his own interests and desires.
When he left he said goodbye to Susan’s father first, shaking his hand, then her mother hugged him firmly and he kissed her cheek. Next he took both of Alethea’s hands and leaned and kissed her cheek. The colour in Alethea’s cheeks lifted to a pale pink.
Then Henry turned to Susan. ‘Goodbye.’ He held out his hand, waiting for hers to be placed within it. It was not a common gesture between them. When she set her hand in his he bowed over it. Even the way he touched people had a particular charm, it captured all her senses. But then of course, even though he had put his gloves back on, she was without gloves, and so the sensations were stronger.
‘Goodbye.’ Her response came out on a breath.
‘We shall dance and spar again in London, I am sure,’ he whispered with a smile.
She smiled too as he let go of her hand.
He turned to Alethea again. ‘Will you walk outside with me?’
