Page 49 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
A part of her hated Henry again.
13
Henry had taken off his gloves, out of agitation. He slapped them into the palm of his other hand, ran them across his fingers and then repeated the motion. He was standing on the corner, so he might easily see along the street in either direction, and on to the other road he expected Susan to walk along.
It was two o’clock.
He had been standing waiting here for an hour like a fool. If Susan came now it would no longer appear an accidental meeting.
But she was not coming.
Damn her!
Henry turned and walked away.
His fingers lifted and removed his hat, then his other hand lifted and his fingers ran through his hair. They shook a little. He put his hat back on, his hand still clasping his gloves, and walked on, quickly, anger and agitation burning in his blood – and doubt, and guilt, and confusion and…Lord… So many things.
He had not found a single word to explain or express his emotions last night, and so his body had resorted to actions,responses he knew well, responses that could speak a thousand words, and yet… even those responses had not explained a thing. He had never kissed a woman like Susan before.
His heart beat on in a steady hard rhythm that matched the pace of his strides. Madness. Insanity. Something had touched his mind and overtaken him.
She had worn lime green. She was visible at every moment in that room. Shining. Her spirit, normally so measured, had been…Lord,how to describe Susan in a ballroom? Animated yet genuine. It was so absorbing. He was envious of his friends sitting with her while she had eaten supper, and of every man who had the opportunity to touch her when she danced.
Even when he danced with Sarah, his eyes were drawn to Susan.
He had tried to act responsibly. To fulfil his duty and focus on Sarah and Alethea – but recklessness was in his blood. He thought he could reform, but clearly he could not. He had been right in what he said to Alethea, he was too young to be capable of loyalty.
Yet to be disloyal with her sister. What the hell had gotten into him?
Shehad gotten into him. It was nothing to do with a general desire for a woman. It was Susan.
He had not slept. Restlessness had kept him turning in his bed, he could not cease thinking of her. Of her lips against his. Of the curve of her neck. Of how her hair had been styled. Of the fit of that dress.
Dash it all, he was certain it had been her first kiss. Her hesitance had told him. Which meant his lips were the first to touch hers. The thought clasped at his groin even as he walked.
He’d kissed Alethea, yes, but she was not like her sister. She had kissed other men, or probably boys, before him. She hadpressed her lips back against his with confidence from the very first time he’d leaned forward to lead such an exchange.
Damn it, he could not stop thinking about Susan.
Yet there was Alethea… But there was no room in his mind for Alethea.
Of all the women to engage his heart –her damned sister.
Hell!He had known Susan all his life, why had this happened now? Why not when they were younger? Why at the point he was about to commit to Alethea?
His strides were long and swift as he walked home, but he did not go to his apartment, he went to the mews and asked them to prepare his curricle while he waited. Then he drove to White’s where he hoped to find William, or if not him, one of the others.
Three of his friends were sitting at a table together.
‘Who wishes to race me, London to Brighton, now?’
They all stood. ‘I thought you have given up racing.’ Fred laughed.
‘Not today.’ Today he needed to burn off his energy and explode with recklessness, today he needed to do something wild to help him forget the even wilder – wrong – thing he did last night. He needed to feel careless. He needed to not care about Susan.
Butdamn it, he did not wish to forget, he wished to repeat it. If he had last night to live again, he would do it all again.
Dusk descended on the world when he neared Brighton. Henry whipped up his horses, encouraging them on, flicking the straps against their rumps. It was a breezy day, and the wind sailed past his ears, ruffling his hair. He had removed his hat long ago. This was freedom. This was why he had not wished to be married yet, because he would need to tame his appetite for recklessness if he settled.
