Page 82 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
Perhaps males ought to cry. Henry and his father appeared to be in agony.
‘I am sorry, it was a careless thing to say.’
‘What, to mention my brothers? It was not careless. You cannot be careful of every word you speak and I do not want people to tiptoe about us trying to not mention William.’ His answer was sharp, but then he said more gently, ‘Nothing you could do or say, Susan, would be without care. If anything is your fault it is that you care too much about what others think. I know you asked out of concern, and the issue is we are all torn in two and nothing will bring William back, yet everything reminds us of him.’
She longed to reach out and hold him as Alethea had. Her hands fell to her sides.
He reached out and held one. It was not a formal gesture, it was as if he needed to hold her too but had not known how to achieve it.
She held his hand in return, her thumb pressing against the back of his.I love you.The words whispered through her as she looked into the unbearable sadness in his brown eyes.
‘Susan…’
She let his hand go and turned to his sister. ‘Sarah. I am so sorry.’
Sarah’s grief shone in her eyes and trembled in her lips. Susan held her as pain pressed into her heart too. A couple of weeks ago Sarah had been enjoying her first season, clothed in bright colours.
Sarah pulled away, withdrawing her handkerchief from her sleeve to dab at her eyes.
Susan wiped the tears from her cheeks with the cuff of her sleeve.
‘I am sorry,’ she said. ‘I should be offering you comfort.’
‘I have been constantly crying,’ Sarah answered. ‘I think every day my tears will run dry but still they fall. It was just so fast. I cannot accept he will not walk into the room with the others. I expect to see him now we are all home again, and he is never here.’
Susan looked at her aunt. Alethea stood with her. She was trying to be stoic and smiling slightly as Alethea talked but she had dark shadows beneath her eyes.
‘I will ring for tea, Mama,’ Henry said behind Susan. ‘You sit.’ It was a thoughtful thing for him to do, and very unlike Henry.
Susan glanced at him. He gave her a closed-lipped smile.
Her awareness of him as he walked away was not like thenormal all-consuming pull – instead it became a sharp jerk on her heartstrings when he left the room. He looked so solemn. Henry had never been solemn.
Alethea sat on an empty sofa. Susan remained on her feet, uncertain where to go.
When Henry came back into the room Aunt Jane said, ‘Sit down with Alethea, darling.’
He glanced at Susan before consenting to the suggestion.
He wished to sit with her, she knew it. He sought her comfort as much her heart longed to give it. But as things were, both their families believed his arrangement with Alethea still stood. He could not favour Susan.
He is only fulfilling his duty.The sharp words struck through her in denial of the flash of jealousy that sparked from a flint. But what point was there in jealousy? They had agreed nothing might progress.
She turned away and sat near Sarah and Christine, trying to stop herself from straining to listen to Henry and Alethea.
She talked with them of William, of their fondest memories and the things they would miss most about their beloved brother. Henry’s voice was low as he spoke with Alethea; she could not hear a word. She heard some of Alethea’s words, though. She was speaking of things that had happened in town. Susan doubted Henry cared today.
When the tea arrived, Susan stood and offered to pour it, to save the other women from the task. Susan’s mother smiled, acknowledging her kindness. Alethea had not even turned her head from her conversation with Henry. He glanced over and gave Susan a smile that said,thank you.
She poured while Sarah and Christine circulated with the cups. She, Alethea, and their mother and father were dots of pale colour in a room of blackness. The blackness hung in the air too,every conversation was so much quieter. Only Alethea’s voice carried with lilting emphasis. Henry’s father conversed with hers, rarely responding and using a succinct, measured, brief tone, while Aunt Jane punctuated the conversation with Susan’s mother with dabs of her handkerchief against her eyes.
After the tea had been drunk Susan continued her quiet conversation with Sarah and Christine. The drawing room door opened.
‘We are back,’ Percy said.
Gerard and Stephen walked in behind their older brother.
The three of them were flushed from a hard ride, their clothes a little dishevelled, but the sense of a crushed spirit hung about them.
