Page 69 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
‘You worried me last night, Susan, and now you have worried me more. This is not like you. What is wrong?’ Her father’s face was a shimmering blur through the cloak of her tears.
‘Please tell us.’
‘It is nothing, I promise?—’
‘Something must have occurred. We are not fools. Something has made you decide to leave in such a hurry,’ her father said.
‘Nothing.’
‘Last evening, Susan?—’
‘No.’ She knew what he thought. ‘I promise no harm came to me. I am simply not a town person. It has made me melancholy and miserable and I want to go home.’
‘But you enjoy dancing…’ her mother said.
‘Not at the expense of fresh air and fields and flowers. Please let me go?’ She looked at her father.
He sighed.
‘I will take you home,’ her father said quietly. ‘But I wish you would tell me what has really made you choose to leave.’
‘Nothing,’ she said again.
He rose, his hand slipping from her shoulder. ‘I will tell them to prepare the carriage.’
When Susan would have stood, her mother pressed her shoulder to stop her. Her father left the room, and her mother said, ‘Will you not tell me?’
‘There is nothing to say.’
Her mother cupped her chin and lifted her face. ‘Then if it is nothing, can you not wait a couple of days?—’
‘No.’ Horror shot through her heart. She had won; her father was taking her. She could not stay even until luncheon in case Henry came. She stood, slipping free from her mother’s hold. ‘I will go upstairs and pack my things?’ She wished to be ready before Alethea heard of this. Alethea would try to make her stay too.
Her mother sighed, as her father had done. ‘Now I must fret over you from a distance because it would be unfair of me to come with you and take Alethea away.’
‘There is no need for you to fret. You may stay with Alethea without worry.’
Her mother shook her head but held out her hand. ‘Come along, let us pack your trunk together, and if you have a change of heart and wish to tell me what has caused this sudden need to leave then I will be very glad to hear it.’
As they walked up to her room Alethea came hurrying down past them. ‘Lord Stourton is here.’
Susan stepped back against the wall out of her sister’s way.
‘I waved from the window, Mama, and told him to wait in the street. You do not mind if I go straight out?’
‘Of course not.’
Alethea put her bonnet on in the hall, as the footman opened the door, then rushed out without looking back.
Her mother’s arm settled about Susan’s shoulders as they walked on, offering the comfort Susan appreciated but did not deserve.
She was a horrible person. She had stolen Henry from her sister.
Tears leaked from her eyes. She pulled away from her mother, took off her spectacles and wiped them away.
Susan’s parents refused to let her leave before Alethea returned from her outing with Lord Stourton. Then they made her wait until after they had eaten luncheon, as though they hoped she would change her mind. She did not.
As the clock ticked away each minute, anxiety danced through her nerves. What if Henry called? He would come today, she knew.
