Page 37 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
‘Ha!’ Harry exclaimed. ‘Most men would.’
Well, then, obviously Henry was not as bad as his father thought. He was not most men. He smiled. ‘Well, I will not. I have discovered a conscience.’
Harry laughed louder, and heartily.
Henry did not.
His period in Yorkshire had educated him. If he was serious about marrying Alethea he could not continue to be reckless, careless and selfish, as Susan had charged, and keep Alethea waiting. As she said, she had other options and she would follow them. He had moved on to the next era in his life; a sensible era, during which he would court and marry Alethea, settle himself down in Yorkshire and become a responsible husband and son. He was accepting the mantle of his future.
A commotion outside drew Alethea to the window. ‘He is here.’
Alethea had been full of nervous excitement all morning. It was the first time she had been officially escorted by Henry. Susan smiled, ignoring the burning in her chest which hinted at jealousy. The emotion had prodded her with its vindictive taunts all night, keeping her awake.
When Alethea left the room, Susan looked out of the window. She could see Henry’s curricle. Was that the one he had crashed, or a new one?
After a short while Alethea and Henry appeared from the house and walked towards the carriage. He had brought a groom with him, who held the horses. There was a step on the back of curricle where the man could stand while Henry drove, so presumably he would play a silent chaperon.
Alethea had not said where Henry was taking her, but it was most likely to Hyde Park.
Henry held Alethea’s hand solicitously as she climbed up onto the seat of the high, open, sporting carriage. He smiled before he walked around to the driver’s seat.
He patted one horse on the rump as he passed it, then brushed a hand along the other’s cheek as he walked around the animals’ heads. On the driver’s side, he held the handles of the carriage and energetically climbed up. His shoulder looked fully healed.
When Henry picked up the reins, his groom let go of the horses’ heads, ran to the back of the carriage, clasped a bar and jumped up to stand on a footplate as Henry pulled away.
Alethea was talking and gesturing with her hands. Henry looked at her and nodded.
A sharp, cruel pain pierced through Susan’s chest.
It was not fair.The words slipped through her head. But they were wrong. Henry was Alethea’s. He had always been Alethea’s. Her spirits may have suddenly decided to favour him too, but nothing could change no matter what she felt. She had no right to feel jealous.
10
Henry arrived at the Forths’s ball with his parents. Society would realise tonight that there were plans for the two families to be joined.
He handed his hat to a footman then followed his father and mother towards the receiving line. The ballroom beyond it was not overly full. His family had arrived early, as he was to open the dancing with Alethea.
He bowed over Aunt Julie’s hand. ‘Good evening.’
‘It is a pleasure to have you here, Henry.’
The Forths held a ball each year, even though Susan and Alethea had not come to town with them for a season before. Henry never attended those balls, he mostly avoided his family’s social circles and spent his time with Harry and his friends in bawdy houses and clubs.
‘Uncle Casper.’ Henry bowed slightly to Lord Forth.
Then he reached Alethea.
She smiled brightly, with the lilting flirtatious smile she saved for him. ‘Hello.’
When he took her hand she lowered into a deep formalcurtsy. Their drive in Hyde Park had been enjoyable, she had a zest for life and an easy humour. There was no doubt if they wed they would suit. ‘Alethea.’ He bowed and kissed the back of her fingers. ‘I shall see you in a while, for the first dance.’
He received another smile. Then he moved on.
Good Lord.The sight of Susan struck him hard. Her hair had been styled and it was magnificently done. It was dressed high on her head, with a single coil trained to fall over her left shoulder. His fingers itched to touch it, and to touch the pale skin of her nape. But most strikingly… ‘You are not wearing your spectacles.’
‘You need not say it as though it were a miracle. I have not regained my eyesight. Alethea merely persuaded me to leave them off; she said it ruined the look of my hair.’
‘Can you see without them?’
