Page 12 of Pursued Beyond Treachery
The middle-aged lady’s eyes went to the flowers, a smile pulling at her lips. “I am sure she is in her favorite parlor. Last I saw, she and Miss Amanda were studying multiplication.”
“A fine skill to have.”
“Yes, especially in housekeeping.” She gestured with her hand and he made his own way to the room, but before he could enter, the door flung open and Miss Amanda rushed right into his chest, crushing the last stems of his offering.
A sob escaped her. “I am so sorry, Lord Newhurst.” Her hand came to her mouth and she rushed away.
Johnathan glanced at the mangled flowers. Steps grew closer, no doubt Susannah coming to check on her sister. He glanced around, knowing he could not give such a paltry gift. She would think him daft if not rude all together.
Without another thought he tossed the destroyed flowers into a large open-mouthed vase moments before she rounded the corner.
“Oh, Jo—Lord Newhurst. I had not realized you were here.”
He glanced over his shoulder in the direction Amanda had run.
“Yes, she is quite distressed over the new concept. Poor thing, but she must learn even if it is hard. Do come in and have some tea. Mrs. Stone just bought a fresh pot and I have no wish to eat all the sandwiches myself.”
Susannah’s chatter continued on as they entered the little room set with a sofa and two chairs, a carved wood coffee table in the center. She swiped away the slate and chalk, storing it in a drawer on the table.
She relayed to him the boys’ activities, her father’s whereabouts, and even a bit of gossip a neighbor had brought. Not once, however, had she talked of her own pursuits.
“And h-how are you, Miss Wayland?”
She glanced up from pouring him another cup of tea. “Me?” She added a dash of milk, the way he liked it, and then picked up her own cup. “No need to burden you with my troubles when you have plenty of your own. Did I tell you Lady Stanford has asked that we leave a few days early? Something about her brother wishing to see us before the season truly begins.”
Johnathan smiled at the mention of Eddie, his and Nate’s common childhood friend and Melior’s older brother. The two of them, plus Mr. Algenon Roberts, who they all referred to as Al, had met Edwin Kendall at Harrow. Having grown up near one another their whole lives, it was strange to accept another friend into their tight-knit group—one with such noble connections as a duke. But Eddie had fit right in, often filling the place of their friend Miss Javenia Harris who obviously was not allowed at a boys’ school.
Susannah took a sip of her tea, then tipped her head to the side. “That’s right, you are well acquainted with Lady Stanford’s brother.” The way she’d read his thoughts sent a chill down his spine. He loved that she knew him so well… and yet not.
Or did she see the interest he was certainly doing a terrible job of hiding?
She set her cup down moments before Michael burst into the room and launched himself at Johnathan, knocking the tea right into his lap.
Thank heavens the brew was not as fresh as Susannah had claimed or his legs would have received a scalding. As it was, the heat of his trousers and the wetness of his legs added to his increasing discomfort in the already awkward situation.
“Michael,” she scolded.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” the little boy repeated as he scrambled out of Johnathan’s lap and backed away.
“My sincerest apologies, Lord Newhurst, I—” her voice cracked and moisture gathered in her eyes, but no tears fell. “Let me get you something to dry off.”
She rang the bell on the tea tray and their maid of all work bustled in. When the towel was procured he dabbed at his lap until he was certain he’d not drip. The wet cloth still clung to him in a most disconcerting way.
“D-do excuse me.” He stopped, trying to gather his words. “In light of… the situation.”
“Don’t go,” Michael begged.
“I believe I must.”
He gave a slight bow and hurried from the room, heat rushing to his cheeks. How was he ever to recover from such an embarrassment?
Chapter 4
The fabric of the new gown felt divine against Susannah’s skin as she waited for the dressmaker to measure and pin the bottom in order to sew a proper hem. To think they would be leaving in a little over a month.
“Do you like it?” Lady Stanford asked.
“I do, very much. Thank you.”
