Page 25 of Pursued Beyond Treachery
“And why are you here, Mrs. Guthrie?” he asked through barely parted lips.
“I beg your pardon. Have we been introduced?”
They had, two seasons ago. Who did not know the Guthries? They seemed to be everywhere, invited to everything, and connected with everyone.
John usually kept to the back of most gatherings, speaking mainly to the men. Their introduction had been a mere coincidence, even so, this woman certainly thought highly of herself to slight him. “Lord Newhurst,” he said shortly.
Her bluster faded and a saccharine smile bloomed on her face. “Ah yes, my apologies, Your Lordship. My memory is not what it once was.” She made no pretense of hiding her thorough examination of his person. “It has been some time since we have spoken. You have, of course, noticed my two daughters are here as well.”
Was the woman daft? He’d played at cards with both her girls. How had it slipped her notice? Then again, without his title he was probably of little importance to such a self-serving woman.
“I have.” He pressed his lips together, biting back the insults he wished to hurl at her.
“Splendid.” She rubbed her pudgy hands together. “Is this not a fine party? And does not my husband’s cousin look splendid in her role as the new duchess? I dare say she will fulfill her duty much better than her predecessor.”
John’s free hand curled into a fist. Perhaps a few choice words would help put this woman back in her place. How dare she insult the Duke of Bedford’s first wife? Lucinda Kendall had been everything that was kind and gracious. Just because she’d never been able to give the duke a child did not mean she had been remiss in her duties.
A small hand brushed against his fist, and his attention shot to Susannah. The pleading in her eyes mixed with a subtle shake of her head. Slowly, he allowed the tension in his fingers to relax. She was right. No amount of force would change a woman such as Mrs. Guthrie. It was better to pay her no mind and allow her to ruin her own reputation.
“You will excuse us, Mrs. Guthrie, but your cousin is awaiting her refreshments.” He offered his free arm to Susannah and she hesitantly took it.
“Your Lordship,” Mrs. Guthrie rushed to say. “Might I have a word alone with my niece?”
“Perhaps later.” Or never, he wished to say. Leaving Susannah to suffer by this woman’s acrid tongue went against every instinct. “Her Grace is awaiting Miss Wayland’s return. I bid you a good evening.”
The woman gave a tight, close-mouthed smile, but he was not fooled. Anger burned in her eyes at being so summarily dismissed.
He did not care. No one spoke to Susannah in such condescending tones. No one.
“Thank you,” Susannah whispered when they were far enough away from her aunt.
“No need. That woman is… is…”
“Unpleasant,” she supplied.
“Abhorrent is more accurate, or reprehensible.”
“Obnoxious, distasteful, disagreeable.”
“Retched, loathsome, and deplorable.”
She smiled up at him. “How many words are there that mean unlikeable?”
“Not enough.”
She laughed softly and for the first time he realized how easily their conversation had flowed. Of course it had centered around one of the three topics he excelled at, but it was a success. If only he could show such self-possession in every encounter he had with her.
“Forgive my impudence, b-but—” He paused, his mind throwing out several questions about the odd interaction.
Susannah waited, a strange occurrence as she usually knew what he wanted to ask and would often fill the void where he’d left off.
He gathered his courage. “Your aunt, am I right in a-assuming she offered you a p-position as a companion?”
“She did.”
“And your father refused.”
“Most vehemently.”
