Page 8 of The Burning Passion of a Fiery Lady
***
She was almost to the end of the hallway, about to descend the staircase, when she saw Amy approaching her, walking quickly.
She smiled. “How are you today?”
Amy smiled in return, stopping right in front of her. “I am well, madam!”
“Susannah,” she corrected, frowning slightly. “Please call me Susannah.”
The housekeeper bit her lip. “I know that you like me to, but it is just so hard. I suppose it is the habit of a lifetime not to speak informally with my superiors.” She hesitated. “But I have something to tell you. You have an unexpected visitor.”
Susannah stared at her curiously. “A visitor? You mean another of the infernal suitors? Just dismiss him, my dear. I have no desire to talk to any of them, as I have told you.”
Amy shook her head. “He is not another suitor. He is someone from your past – he claims to have known you when you lived in Lincolnshire. He is most insistent that he sees you.”
Susannah gaped at her. Who on earth could it be? She rarely had visitors from her old home, and never in the last two years. Most people had moved on with their lives, just as she had.
Her curiosity was piqued. “Where is he?”
“In the foyer.”
“Take him to the parlour,” she said slowly. “I will go there directly.”
Amy nodded quickly, descending the staircase. Susannah gazed after her for a moment, before doing likewise, heading towards the parlour. Whowasthis mystery guest?
***
The man was sitting on the edge of the chaise lounge, with his back to her when she entered. At the sound of the door opening, he turned, gazing at her steadily.
Susannah gasped. “It cannot be …”
He strode towards her, a broad smile on his face. “Yes, it is, Susannah. It is me, after all these years …”
She stared at the man standing in front of her. He was older and taller than she remembered, but she would still recognise his face anywhere.
His name was Leonard Green. He had been a friend, back in Lincolnshire, when she had been sixteen, and he had been a year older. The son of a neighbouring landowner, he was still as lanky as she remembered, but he had filled out a little, and his pale brown hair was receding ever so slightly. His long, angular face was just the same, however, as was the frank and open expression in his dark brown eyes.
She kept gazing at him, a bit shocked. Leonard Green. He had pursued her, claiming that he was in love with her, but she had never felt the same way about him. And then, Gilbert Drake had swept her off her feet, and she had moved to Shropshire, and never seen him again.
“What are you doing here?” she asked slowly when she finally found her voice.
His smile widened. “Shocked, Susannah? Ithasbeen a while, hasn’t it?”
“Seven years,” she said slowly, gazing at him curiously. “What are you doing here, in Shropshire, after all this time, Leonard?”
He looked surprised. “To seeyou, of course, my dear. To see how you are … after what happened to your husband.”
She smiled faintly. Of course, news of Gilbert’s death would have travelled by now. Her parents knew, and they were good friends with Leonard’s parents. Of course, he would have been informed. She didn’t know why she was momentarily surprised to hear that he was aware of it.
“Shall we sit down?” she said. “I will call for tea, and we can talk.”
***
Tea was called for, and they chatted idly while it was served. Just local gossip, from Lincolnshire, and whatever she recalled was happening in this neighbourhood, which wasn’t much. After the tea tray was cleared away, he gazed at her expectantly.
“How have you been coping?” he asked quietly.
She gazed at him sadly. How could she explain the awful tragedy of it? Of how alone she had felt, in this large house, after it had happened? But there was another side to it, as well, that she had only spoken about with Amy, in the long, lonely nights since he had so unexpectedly left her life.
