Page 19 of The Burning Passion of a Fiery Lady
Chapter 8
Susannah lifted her head from the pillow drowsily, opening her eyes. Sunlight was streaming through the white lace curtains. Disoriented, she sat up in the bed, rubbing her head ruefully. She was still so groggy with sleep, she could barely think at all.
Suddenly, it all came flooding back to her, in a rush.The kiss.
Her face burnt, as she remembered it. His lips upon hers, almost devouring her. The heat between them, which had seemed to fill the entire stable. One moment he had been comforting her, and the next, they had been pressed together, seeking each other as if they were drowning.
She had never thought that she would feel desire again.
She had never felt such desire before.
Her colour deepened, thinking about it. It was true. She had desired her husband, at the start of their marriage, when he had still been kind to her. He had been gentle with her, in the marriage bed, but not overly passionate. She had enjoyed it because of the closeness it brought to them, but she had never felt such single-minded desire as she had felt in Jasper Stone’s arms. As if she would simply die if he didn’t touch her again.
She stared around the room, in wonder. She didn’t feel ashamed, at all, that she was feeling this way with someone other than her wedded husband. The guilt, along with everything else, seemed to have abruptly vanished.
There was a soft knock on the door, and Amy entered, gazing at her.
“Did you have a good lie in, my dear?” asked the housekeeper, smiling. “I thought that you might need it, after your late night …”
Stricken, Susannah stared at her. Did she know that she had left her bed last night, wandering the grounds, and had met the horse master in the stables? But she didn’t look suspicious.
Susannah exhaled slowly. Amy was only talking about the dinner party going late. Of course.
“I feel fabulous,” replied Susannah, stretching luxuriously. As the words left her mouth, she realised how true they were. The kiss with Jasper Stone seemed to have unleashed something inside of her. She felt as if she was glowing.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Just after ten thirty,” replied Amy. “Your friend from Lincolnshire has already called today, but I told him you were unavailable. I hope that I did the right thing.” She reached into her pocket, taking out a calling card, and handing it to her.
Susannah felt the warm glow she had been feeling slowly dissolve. She stared down at the card. Leonard Green. Why was he still in Shropshire?
“You did the right thing,” she said slowly, turning the card over in her hand. “I do not want to see him. Not today, at least.”
Amy sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at her curiously. “Who is he? And why do you not want to see him?”
Susannah sighed heavily. “It is … complicated.”
Amy nodded. “I am listening if you want to tell me about it.”
Susannah bit her lip. “Leonard Green makes me nervous,” she said slowly. “He was once a good friend of mine. A very good friend.” She paused. “But things changed …”
Suddenly, she was no longer a wealthy widow, of four and twenty, sitting in her rich home in Shropshire. It was as if the years had been swept away entirely. Suddenly, she was her sixteen-year-old self again.
She turned to Amy and slowly started speaking. Immediately, she was back in Lincolnshire, all those years ago …
***
She was sixteen, on the cusp of her seventeenth birthday, the night that everything changed between them.
They had always been friends. As children, they had played together, whenever their families visited one another. Leonard’s family home was only five miles away from hers, their nearest neighbour. But they had not been close until they were teenagers.
This night, she was lying on her bed, dreaming of Gilbert. The handsome, dark-haired older man who had danced with her – twice – at the country ball. He had made her heart flutter, in the most alarming way, and when he gazed at her with his green eyes she felt something melting inside of her.
But the best thing of all was that he had asked to call on her again. She was expecting him tomorrow.
She had jumped when there had been a knock on her door. But she hadn’t thought anything of it, expecting it would be her mother, or one of the servants.
“Come in,” she had called.
