Page 48 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
When she returned to the ballroom she forced her lips into a smile as she walked towards her parents – and his parents. Alethea was dancing. Susan’s gaze instinctively searched for Henry as she sat down in a chair near her mother.
He was dancing with Sarah.
I have kissed him. The words repeated within her head a dozen times.
‘Here.’ Her father held out a glass of punch for her.
She looked up. ‘Thank you.’
‘You look unwell…’
‘I am well, Papa, it is only that it is getting late and I am tired.’
‘Then we will not wait until the breakfast refreshments but leave soon.’
‘I cannot drag Alethea away…’ She could not speak Alethea’s name without her heart screaming her shame and guilt.
‘She has had three quarters of the night to enjoy herself, the loss of an hour or two of dancing will not harm her, and there will be two dozen more balls to attend before we return home.’
‘Thank you, Papa.’
When Susan lay in bed later and shut her eyes she felt the pressure of Henry’s lips, and her lips pressing back and opening then their tongues dancing. She did not sleep.
The next morning she rose at eleven, tired, with dark circles beneath her eyes. Alethea was still in bed, as was their mother, but their father had risen and gone out riding. He would probably not return until much later, and probably then go to his club. So, Susan ate breakfast alone, but she merely nibbled on dry toast, her stomach was too busy dancing waltzes to eat, as she thought of Henry.
At eleven thirty, a bouquet of roses arrived for Alethea, with a card. The footman brought them to Susan as Alethea had not yet woken. The handwriting on the card declared the flowers were from Henry.
‘Put them in a vase in the hall for now,’ she said. ‘Then take them to Miss Alethea’s room when she wakes.’
‘And there is this for you, ma’am.’ He held out a letter. She took it and looked at the words written across the front.
Miss Susan Forth.
That too was written in Henry’s hand.
‘Thank you.’ She dismissed the footman, rose from the table, went into the hall and climbed the stairs, her heart racing wildly.
As soon as she closed the door of her bedchamber she leaned back against the wood and broke the seal. Henry hadn’t used a crest, but if Alethea had seen the letter she would have recognised his writing.
Dear Susan,
I wish to see you today. Will you escape the house? Say you are shopping for books so Alethea will not want to join you. I will wait in Bond Street outside Faulder’s bookstore, atNo. 42, from one o’clock until two. If we meet there, if anyone sees us, they will assume it is only chance. But please come without Alethea so we may talk.
H
H… Henry.
What had he said on Alethea’s card? Susan wished to run downstairs and open it, but that would break every rule of everything that was right. She had already broken enough rules. She should not meet him.
But her heart longed to see his face, to hear him speak – to understand.
He must know she would have seen the flowers. Why would he send Alethea flowers and ask to meet her?
Because he was reckless, careless and self-centred, and…
Then the answer was certainly no. She should not go to Bond Street. She must not lie to her sister or her mother. She could not continue this deceit.
Oh. Why did that decision cause so much pain in her heart?
