Page 42 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
She ought not to be thinking of him. He was Alethea’s beau.
Yet she had become fixated upon the memory of that waltz. Upon the details in his irises as they had stared at one another. Upon the sensation of his thumb caressing her back as his hand had braced her while she moved. Upon the way his larger hand gently but securely held hers.
She had no idea how to greet him today. Her tongue might not form a single word. She had become a flustered fool.
She sighed out her breath. The only thing to do was walk downstairs and behave as though nothing had changed.
But everything had changed.
She’d been entirely charmed by Henry.I cannot be, he’s Alethea’s.
She stared at herself in the mirror. ‘Stop thinking of him!’ But he would not be ordered from her mind.
A gentle tap struck the door of her bedchamber. ‘Miss!’
‘Yes!’ Susan called.
The door handle turned and the door opened. ‘Lord Henry and Captain Marlow are downstairs, miss.’ Yes, she knew. She had heard Henry’s curricle draw up and Alethea call down the stairs.
‘Thank you. Let them know I will be down directly.’
The maid left and Susan looked at herself in the mirror once more. However she would face Henry, the time had come.
She picked up her cloak and slipped it over her arm to carry it down as she left the room. When she reached the stairs she could hear Alethea below, speaking with Henry and Harry.
Susan’s heartbeat raced as she walked down the stairs to the reception hall. Alethea stood facing Harry.
Henry looked up as Susan walked down from the last landing, and his gaze struck hers. She had not imagined the look in his eyes while they had danced, he was not merely looking at her, his gaze said something else. But it was not the glitter she had always seen in his eyes when he looked at Alethea.
He smiled. She smiled, and then he looked away, at Alethea.
Did he know how she felt? She hoped he did not.
‘You have taken your time, Susan,’ Alethea accused.
‘Sorry, I was absorbed in my book. I had forgotten the hour.’Liar. She had been counting down the minutes since Henry said goodnight to them after the ball.
When she stepped from the bottom stair, Harry came forward. ‘Good day, Susan, I hope you are looking forward to our outing as much as I?’
‘Very much.’ She smiled, only looking at him, and trying tothink only of him. But she had not felt any emotion for Harry or anyone else she danced with.
‘Let me take your cloak.’ He took it from her arm. Her fingers trembled when she pushed her spectacles further up her nose, before turning so Harry might set her cloak on her shoulders. When she turned to let him tie the cords at the front for her, she caught Henry watching, as he offered his arm to Alethea.
Today would be torture.
‘Susan.’ Henry bowed his head slightly.
‘Henry.’ She bowed her head too.
That minimal level of communication between her and Henry set the pattern for the day. She shared only odd words with him, with a stilted politeness, while about those words Henry chatted amiably with Alethea, and Susan with Harry, and Harry with them all.
If Harry or Alethea noticed Henry’s and Susan’s awkwardness, they said nothing, but it was the way Henry and Susan had spoken to each other throughout their childhood, so perhaps it did not seem strange.
Harry was excellent company, though, he laughed liberally and smiled constantly, jesting about and exclaiming over the displays.
‘Look at this.’ Harry pointed at a sculpted stone frieze in the exhibition hall they were exploring. She turned to look but as she did her gaze struck Henry’s. The deep brown quality of his eyes shot a bullet through her heart. He looked away as she turned to face Harry again.
Harry’s eyes were a pale blue, like Aunt Ellen’s, but the colour of his brown hair and his looks were Uncle Edward’s.
