Page 72 of Tremaine's True Love
Susannah and Della sat side by side on the ladies’ mounting block, apparently waiting for horses to be brought out.
“They’re going for a hack in this weather?” Mr. St. Michael asked.
Nita didn’t dare think of him as Tremaine, lest she slip before her siblings, but he was Tremaine.Her Tremaine.
“Looks like they’re headed somewhere,” George said, “though I suspect their errand is in the direction of Stonebridge. Nothing less compelling could tear Susannah from her books, but I refuse to provide an escort. My arse is frozen.”
Brothers.Nita trotted ahead. “Halloo! Shall you take your mare, Suze? She was a perfect lady for the duration, and I’ve warmed the saddle.”
“I’ll take her if Susannah won’t,” Della said.
“My saddle won’t fit you,” Susannah rejoined. “Though it fits Nita well enough. Was the library open?”
Mr. St. Michael drew rein and swung off his horse. “It was, though I must warn your ladyships, the lanes are snowy, the temperature is dropping, and I doubt the earl would approve of a protracted outing in such weather.”
“We can have this argument in the barn,” George said, handing his horse off to a groom. “I can’t forbid you from going, ladies, but I can advise against it, as Mr. St. Michael has.”
“Susannah needs to bring old Edward up to scratch before the assembly,” Della said, hopping off the mounting block. “If he doesn’t get the proposing done soon, she’ll start back in on the Old Testament, and all will be wars, slayings, and begats until Beltane.”
A wintry silence greeted that announcement, then George laid an arm across Della’s shoulders.
“Come with me now, Della. Nobody’s riding anywhere, and somebody needs to wash your face with snow before Susannah throttles you.”
He marched Della off toward the house while Susannah remained sitting on the mounting block, looking pale and chilly.
“Della’s simply being honest,” she said. “Mr. St. Michael ought to know by now the Haddonfields aren’t overly burdened with decorum.”
Before the grooms led Mr. St. Michael’s horse away, he extracted something from his saddlebags.
“If you’re not to pay a call on Stonebridge, perhaps this will enliven your afternoon. My ladies, I bid you good day.”
He passed Susannah two books, kissed Nita’s cheek, and strode off after George and Della. Nita wanted to follow him, but he’d guessed correctly. Susannah was in a state, clutching the books to her middle as if she’d hold in a great upset, or perhaps a bout of cursing.
Susannah had not been heard to curse since she’d been seventeen and vexed beyond bearing with certain other young ladies whose company she endured at tea dances.
Nita took a seat beside Susannah as the last of the horses was led into the barn.
“Della saw Mr. St. Michael last night,” Susannah said dully. “He was coming from your room at a late hour. I like him, but be careful, Nita.” Suze offered a warning rather than a reproach, which was not like her.
Susannah hadn’t even looked at the books. “I will be careful and so will he. Were you truly haring off to Stonebridge in this weather?”
“I was honestly hoping to be stranded there for a day or two.” Her gaze was flat, her cheeks pale, and on her head was a perfectly impractical toque garnished with pheasant feathers.
Nita wrapped her scarf around Susannah’s neck. From the direction of the garden, somebody shrieked, suggesting George had administered cold, wet fraternal retribution for Della’s thoughtless words.
A snowflake landed directly in Nita’s right eye, bringing with it a frigid stab of sororal intuition. “Has Edward Nash taken liberties with your person, Suze?”
“Don’t scold me, Nita. While Papa was alive, I didn’t feel so ancient, but now Nicholas is the earl, and soon even Della will have made her come-out. I long to be married and have a family. That’s all I want, and all I’ve been raised to want.”
All any of them had been raised to want.
“Here is what you need to know,” Nita said in the same brisk tone she’d summarize a treatment regimen for a cranky patient. “I love you, and Edward is not good enough for you. He has problems, Susannah, financial and otherwise, that make him a poor candidate for your affections. Elsie does not speak well of his disposition or his temperance. If he has taken liberties, then you will tell me, and I’ll provide you what aid I can, including tisanes that will bring on your menses.”
Susannah straightened. “There are such tisanes?”
I will kill Edward Nash.“Every midwife and herbalist knows of them, and Mama certainly did too. They are by no means foolproof, but the sooner you take them, the safer and more effective they are. Have you missed your monthly yet?”
“No, not yet.”
