Page 47 of The Burning Passion of a Fiery Lady
At last, he was satisfied that all was well. The horses were settled. It was time to get back to the house for dinner.
He walked towards the main gate, whistling. He couldn’t wait to see Susannah. Would her eyes widen in shock at seeing him all dressed up? He normally wore rough shirts and trousers, suiting his work. There wasn’t much call to dress up for the horses, after all.
He smiled. In another life, he had dressed up like this all the time. Back home, he had always attended formal dinner parties and assemblies. He had a wardrobe full of fine clothes, which he had abandoned, along with everything else when he had left. All the trappings of his former, fancy life that he had left behind. He had never regretted it.
But now, he wanted to look good for her. He wanted her eyes to widen in admiration. He wanted her to be proud of him, to think that she could take him anywhere, and he wouldn’t look out of place.
He realised he would doanythingfor Susannah Drake. He would walk over hot coals if she asked him to.
He was just securing the gate, when he felt a presence, just behind him.
He turned around, just in time to see the rock, descending on his head.
As he hit the ground, his dazed eyes took in the legs of the figure before him.
Black riding boots, he thought, as his thoughts started to scramble.He is wearing black riding boots …
He clawed the ground desperately, grabbing handfuls of dirt, but it was no good. He didn’t even have the strength to rise to his feet, never mind escape. And now, the figure was slowly approaching him again, in an almost considered manner.
Dear God, he thought.Is he going to hit me again?
But the figure threw away the rock, hurling it into a field. Carefully, he was picked up and slung over the man’s shoulders as if he were a sack of potatoes, his head drooping towards the ground.
The blood started coming, then, streaming into his eyes and nose, almost choking him.
Susannah, he thought.My love …
His head swayed from side to side, as consciousness slipped away, and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was being taken to his death.
Chapter 20
Amy adjusted the necklace around Susannah’s neck, making sure that the clasp was secure.
“There,” she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “You are ready.”
Susannah smiled and then turned to the dressing table mirror to gaze at herself. She almost didn’t recognise the woman who stared back at her.
Janie, her maid, had swept back her hair into an elaborate chignon, coiled at the nape of her neck. Tiny tendrils of hair escaped it, falling in ringlets down the side of her face, framing it perfectly. Tiny diamonds sparkled in her ear lobes. The small, heart-shaped diamond necklace that Amy had just secured was the finishing touch.
Tears glimmered in her eyes. She had not dressed up like this in such a long time. It had been so long that she couldn’t even remember anymore when the last time was.
She had not been able to do it when she had been in mourning, of course. Beautiful dresses and jewellery were not allowed for grieving widows. But even before Gilbert had died, she had not dressed up in years. He had refused to take her anywhere, but especially not to the grand balls, parties, and assemblies in the district. It was a wonder that her evening gowns had not been eaten by moths entirely.
She glanced down at the blue silk dress she was wearing. It was out of date, of course, by fashionable standards; she would not have been able to wear it in London for fear the ton would turn up their noses at her, thinking her a country mouse. But it was still a beautiful gown, so well cut and made that it was a joy to wear. And the silk felt simply wonderful, against her skin.
For a moment, she was assailed by doubt. Would Jasper think her dowdy?
“You are beautiful,” said Amy, behind her, as if she had read her thoughts. “Stand up so that I may see the gown in all its glory …”
Susannah blushed slightly but did as she was asked, turning to face her friend.
“Oh, my,” said Amy, her hand at her throat. “I have never seen you in such a way …”
Susannah smiled wryly. “No, you would not have. By the time you came to The Willows, my evening engagements were already long gone. I do not think you have seen me in any of my best clothes, Amy.”
She twirled around, suddenly, just for the sheer joy of it. To feel the fabric against her skin. She had always loved silk; her wedding dress had been made from it. And she knew that the colour became her, contrasting well with her red hair and pale skin. This gown had always been one of her favourites.
But would Jasper like it? Or would he gaze at her, mystified, as to why she had bothered to dress up in such a way for a country dinner, with her staff?
