Page 27 of Pursued Beyond Treachery
Still the questions swirled in the back of Susannah’s mind. Why had her aunt disliked her mother so, especially after all the overtures Mama had made?
“It has been quite some time since we last saw one another,” Aunt Guthrie supplied. “Other than His Grace’s card party, that is.”
“Yes, come cousin.” Miss Guthrie motioned to Susannah to sit next to her on the plush blue settee. “It has been quite some time since we last met. You must tell us how you are enjoying Town.”
Was the offer sincere? She did not see anything false in her cousin’s wide-set eyes.
Lady Stanford’s smile slipped as she glanced between Susannah and Mrs. Guthrie. Did she see her hesitancy?
In the end, Susannah chose to keep the peace, taking up the seat offered and doing her best to show her own good breeding—even if her aunt was less than pleasant.
Miss Guthrie asked where she had been and conversation turned to the fine lace that was to be had in the shops on Piccadilly street. The quarter hour visit gave Susannah great insight into her cousins whom she’d not seen since she was eight. Miss Martha Guthrie was the quieter of the two, choosing instead to sip her tea and watch the happenings around her rather than participate in full.
Miss Guthrie, however, made up for her sister’s silence by commanding most of the attention and rarely letting anyone other than her mother get a word in edgewise. She declared herself a great study of laces and believed she knew the best to be had.
The clock chimed indicating a quarter hour had passed and Susannah nearly breathed an audible sigh of relief. But instead of rising as they ought, Miss Guthrie began extolling upon her many virtues with Aunt Guthrie seconding her words.
“She is quite accomplished you must know, Lady Stanford.”
Lady Stanford’s head had begun to nod, eyes heavy, but at being called upon to give her attention, she gave a slight dip of her chin.
The encouragement set the two ladies to talking again, this time however they unabashedly boasted of their many connections. They recited at which tables they’d dined and whose private parties they’d been invited. Susannah began to wonder if there was a single person in London’s lavish society that did not know the Guthries. From her limited experience,she’d witnessed how well they were received. Perhaps a connection would not be so terrible.
When John’s name crossed Miss Guthrie’s lips in reference to her latest trip to the shops, Susannah sat forward.
“And then Lord Newhurst picked up my wayward bonnet and handed it to me. I must say he has very fine eyes.” Miss Guthrie and her sister shared a conspiratorial smile. “He even asked me if I intended to be at the Fortescue's soiree this evening, which of course I shall, especially if a handsome and well-connected man such as His Lordship will be present.”
John had spoken to her, had actually strung several sentences together in order to ask after her plans for the evening? Did that mean he found her cousin attractive?
Heat filled her chest and she picked up her teacup in an effort to hide the frown that marred her lips. He must have found Miss Guthrie quite appealing to make the effort of speaking so much.
What did that say about her?
The only gloom over the last few days was John’s absence. She’d not seen him since Parliament had opened. Knowing he’d been at the same shops she’d frequented this week, perhaps even on the same days, pricked at her happiness. If he was not otherwise engaged, why had he not visited?
As if her mind had conjured him into existence, the subject of her thoughts walked through the door and all conversation ceased. Hands behind his back, he paused, eyes widening.
“Lord Newhurst,” Lady Stanford said as she rose to her feet. “What a pleasant surprise. Please come have some tea with us.”
“I—” His eyes flicked from each of the ladies and eventually landed on Susannah. Wrinkles formed in the space between his eyebrows and his gaze shot back to her aunt.
His concern for her well-being soothed the hurt at knowing he’d spoken with her cousins these last three days but not her.When his attention returned to her, she gave a subtle dip of her head toward the chair across from her. He nodded.
“Thank you, Lady Stanford. Tea would be lovely.” He inched forward a step, then another.
“Cream as usual?” Lady Stanford asked.
He blinked at her, shifting his position so Susannah caught sight of something behind his back. When he confirmed his preference, Lady Stanford poured him a cup and extended the plate to him with a generous slice of lavender cake.
He winced. “I… ah.” Quickly taking the last few steps, he handed a bouquet to Lady Stanford and took the cup and saucer with the other hand.
She stared blankly at the posy of tiny blue flowers.
“As a thank you,” John finally said. “For holding the dinner for me.”
Lady Stanford’s mouth formed an oh and she bent to the side to hand the flowers to a maid standing behind him. Pain creased her brow and she stopped, her hand coming to rest at her middle.
Susannah had seen her mother favor her middle like that, but only when she was increasing. Come to think of it, Lady Stanford had missed breakfast every morning this week. Was it possible?
