by Donna Hatch
Susanna brushed her teeth while Polly filled a bed warmer with coals and carried it to the tall four poster bed. How luxurious to have someone care for her and warm her bed!
As Susanna slipped between soft, warm sheets on a mattress like a cloud, she let out a little sigh. “I feel like a new person. Thank you for your help, Polly.”
“My pleasure, miss. Sleep well.”
The words proved prophetic. Susanna tumbled into a deep slumber. The next time she opened her eyes, late golden rays of afternoon sunlight peeked in between heavy draperies. What a lovely dream. She was warm and safe, and in a beautiful room that reminded her of her childhood bedchamber.
“Miss? Are you awake?” A hushed voice called.
Not a dream, then.
“Miss?” The voice persisted.
“I’m awake,” Susanna mumbled.
Polly came into view, peering anxiously at her. “I’m sorry to awaken you, but Lady Daubrey is asking after you.”
Susanna pushed herself to a seated position and rubbed her eyes. Then the maid’s words sank in. Lady Daubrey. Kit. Susanna was in London in Kit’s sister’s house—his sister, the titled lady married to a viscount.
“It’s four o’clock in the afternoon, miss. You’ve slept away the whole of the day,” Polly said. “Are you ill?”
Groggy, Susanna smiled at Polly. “No, I assure you, I’m quite well. I was merely tired.”
“You must have been all worn out, then.”
Considering that Susanna hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep since she left home, that was an understatement. She felt like a new person, content and comfortably drowsy from such a lengthy rest.
“Indeed I was. But I feel much better now.”
Polly took a step closer. “I’ve arranged for the hip bath brought in—unless you want to try the shower bath?”
“The hipbath is perfect, thank you.”
Polly rearranged her pillows and placed a tray on her lap. “The bath will be ready in a few minutes, then.”
Susanna tried not to gape at the appearance of a tray of food on her lap. While Susanna sat propped by a luxurious number of cushions, she feasted on fruit, scones, and cheese. She washed it down with tea, complete with cream and sugar. How lovely!
After eating, she slipped into the hip bath and scrubbed herself all over again, washing her hair. Once dried and dressed in her clean chemise and the only stays she owned, she slid her arms into a dressing gown Polly held out for her. Fingering the soft dressing gown, she sat at a table while the maid combed and styled her hair.
“Beautiful hair,” Polly said.
“It’s just brown.”
“Oh, no, miss. It’s such a rich, dark color and so thick and long. So pretty.”
“That’s kind of you to say.”
Watching through the large, clear mirror, Susanna tried to follow the maid’s movements. Over the years, her own poor attempts at styling her hair had resulted in a loose chignon low on the back of her head. Of course her small, dark-spotted and cracked mirror in her bedroom back home had not aided the task. Polly’s skilled hands worked too quickly to be a guide for Susanna to recreate later.
Before long, her hair was arranged in a style so becoming that Susanna gaped at her own image. Gone were the unattractive little frizzy pieces that refused to stay smoothed back. Instead, her hair shone smooth and sleek, swept back into an elegant swirl of braids at the crown of her head. Curls framed her face, softening the sharp edges of her features. Why, she almost looked pretty.
A firm knock at the door provided only a second’s warning before Esther—Lady Daubrey—swept into the room. All style and elegance and self-possession, she walked as a woman confident with the world and her place in it. Though dressed in a simple muslin gown, she exuded the very finest ton, from the excellent cut and workmanship of her gown, to the artful arrangement of her hair, to the healthy glow in her complexion that indicated she’d received ample nourishment all her life. Over her arm she carried pale blue fabric—a gown or a wrap, perhaps.
Kit’s sister glided like a queen to Susanna. “You look better, I must say. The dark circles under your eyes are gone. And your skin! Lovely—creamy and flawless like a china doll, and there is color in your cheeks now. And your hair! Oh, I had no idea it was such a beautiful shade.” She nodded. “Well done, Polly. The style is perfect for her face.”
Polly curtsied and moved to stand near the wall with all the silence of a well-trained servant.
“Thank you,” Susanna said. “I apologize for sleeping so late—”
“Think nothing of it. You clearly needed the rest. Did you sleep well?”
“Better than I have in . . . what seems like a long time.” She swallowed, ashamed to reveal that she’d only napped on the mail coach when possible but the road conditions made sleep difficult. Then, once in London, she’d spent the night in an alley.
“I brought you a gown to wear while yours are properly laundered. Polly noticed your portmanteau got wet so your other gown was soiled. I’m happy to let you borrow one of mine.” She held up a sky blue gown she’d been carrying over her arm.
A gown that fit Esther’s full figure surely would not fit Susanna’s shapeless frame.
As if guessing her thoughts, Esther added, “It’s an apron style gown so I believe it can be pinned in enough to fit you, although it might be too long. Here, try it.” She made a quick gesture to the maid.
Polly dashed forward and helped Susanna out of her dressing gown and into the blue gown which opened at the front. After much tucking and pinning, the maid stepped back and glanced at Esther for her approval. Susanna glanced in the mirror. The gown fit her as if made for her, although long enough to drag a little on the floor. Susanna ran a hand along the skirt, savoring the softness of the fine cambric.
“Yes,” Esther nodded, circling Susanna. “Yes, I believe that will do.” She looked her over critically. “I apologize for giving you an afternoon gown rather than a formal evening gown but it’s the only thing I had that I thought might fit you—you’re so tiny. We are only having a family dinner tonight, so no need to worry about dressing formally enough for guests.”
Still stroking the gown, Susanna let out a tiny sigh of pleasure. “It’s lovely, my lady. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Esther glanced at the maid as if guessing the source of her information but returned her gaze to Susanna. “Oh, let’s leave off all this ‘my lady’ business. Esther suits me much better. Or Tess, as Kit has always called me. And remember, my husband prefers to be called Daubrey. Come, dinner is ready.”
Susanna flushed. “I don’t think I could be so familiar with a viscount.”
“As you wish. But please know that we won’t insist on formality while you’re here in our home. By the way, I invited Kit to join us for dinner tonight, as well. He visits far too seldom.”
Susanna almost laughed at the force of nature that was Esther Daubrey. There was nothing for it but to go along with her. For now. Susanna refused to impose on the Daubreys’ hospitality a moment longer than she must. Still, the thought of seeing Kit again sharpened her senses and put a bounce in her step.
Polly brought Susanna silk stockings unlike any Susanna had ever owned, tying the garter above her knee. Her shoes looked shabby and crude by comparison to the fine gown and stockings. Thank goodness for the overly long hem. After adding a pair of blond lace gloves, Susanna was pronounced ready.
Esther linked arms with Susanna. “The gentlemen await us in the drawing room.”
As they descended the staircase, Esther kept up a steady stream of conversation about places she wanted to bring Susanna, trips to the theatre for various operas and theatrical productions, and laughing over the habit of many theatre-goers to watch other patrons more than the stage performers.
After crossing the great hall, they reached a set of double doors. Here, Esther paused and fixed a sober gaze on her. Very gently, she said, “I won’t ask you prying questions, but it’s c
lear to me that you’ve suffered recent losses, and I realize you are not in a situation that you have been bred to face. Please know that if I can be of any assistance, you have only to ask. I hope you view me as your friend.”
Tears burned the back of Susanna’s throat. “Thank you. You have already been too kind, and I do not wish to impose on your charity.”
“It’s not charity—it’s friendship. This is what friends do. You clearly matter to Kit, therefore you matter to me. Besides, I like you already, and that says something about your character. I usually don’t like people I meet in London.” She quirked a grin and drew Susanna into the drawing room.
Certainly Esther did not seem the type to be disagreeable. Did she truly mean most people in London were so unlikable? Perhaps she merely jested.
Kit’s voice greeted them. “…a brother who was killed in a sea battle, and wants more information about it. Can you help?”
“I’d be happy to look into it for you,” came Daubrey’s reply.
Her pulse leaped. Did Kit refer to her search for news of Richard? Had he truly remembered?
Inside the doorway, Susanna halted. Kit stood dressed in a black evening suit almost identical in cut and fabric to Lord Daubrey’s. Kit’s expertly tailored-clothing fit his lean, graceful, masculine form. Clearly more than a gifted violinist, Kit carried himself with the same confidence as Lord Daubrey—a man with the world at his feet.
This begged the question; who, really, was Kit Anson?
Kit turned and grinned, his gaze passing over the length of her. Under his scrutiny, her cheeks burned and her steps faltered. She glanced back at the door, her muscles bunching, urging her to flee this auspicious company so far above her in elegance and refinement and town polish. Who was she, a penniless country girl without the training necessary to move in such circles, to think she could pass the evening in their company? They seemed kind enough not to point out all the faux pas she would surely commit tonight, but the idea that they must feel obligated to politely bite their tongues as she made one blunder after another was enough to make her wish she’d stayed on the streets. Almost. The bath and the bed had been heavenly. But still…
As if sensing her rising panic, Esther put an arm around her. “You’re among friends, my dear.” She led her to the gentlemen.
Lord Daubrey eyed her as if he’d never seen her before and had not yet decided what to make of her.
Susanna sank in to a curtsy. “Good evening. Thank you again for your hospitality, my lord.”
Lord Daubrey bowed. “Please, I’m Daubrey to my friends.”
She inclined her head when she wanted to shake it over the unthinkable position of having a lord imply he was her friend. He’d barely met her and they’d certainly never exchanged more than a few words.
With his whole focus fixed upon Susanna, Kit approached, all grace and poise, and bowed before her. He stared at her as if he saw something wondrous. Which was ridiculous. “Good evening.”
Susanna swallowed and sank into a curtsy. How strange to be so formal with Kit. But then, he’d always treated her like a lady, even when she slept in the alley.
“I’m almost speechless with your beauty, Miss Dyer.”
She blushed at the astonishment in his expression. “You needn’t stare so.”
“Indeed I must.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips.
Her gloves provided no true barrier between the warmth of his lips and her hand. Heat burst from the contact and spread over her limbs. Heaven help her if he’d kissed her skin directly.
“I must have looked dreadful then, because while I own up to looking better than usual—thanks to your sister and her maid—I am not foolish enough to believe I am anywhere near…beautiful.” She choked on the word.
Very gently, and laced with a touch of humor, he said, “I am sorry, but I must disagree.”
She must have been truly a dirty ragged little thing then to appear so different to him now. She blushed again and looked down lest she find messages in his eyes that he did not mean to send.
“Dinner is served,” the butler announced.
With Lord and Lady Daubrey leading the way, Susanna accepted Kit’s offered arm and proceeded to the dining room. Large iron candelabras stood in each corner filled with a dozen candles each, and their light, combined with sconces on the walls and candles on the table, illuminated the elegant room to mid-afternoon brightness. Light shimmered off gilt wood trim, crystal glasses, and fine china adoring the settings.
Lord Daubrey sat at the head of the table with Esther at his right. At Lord Daubrey’s left, Kit held out a chair and waited expectantly. Susanna hesitated. She was to sit in a place of honor next to the host? She glanced at Esther, but no one seemed to think seating Susanna in such an honored place anything out of the ordinary. She sat. As Kit took the chair next to her, she glanced around, noticing that their seats were clustered at one end of the table. Kit sent her a reassuring smile. Susanna took a steadying breath. She could do this. Somehow, she would get through the meal without embarrassing Kit or her hosts.
Servants carried out an assortment of dishes, enough for twice as many diners. This was a simple family meal? Susanna called upon her memory about instruction for eating in formal occasions. With trembling hands, she sipped her drink. As the meal began, she watched Esther for cues.
Kit touched her arm. “I spoke with Daubrey about your brother.”
“Indeed,” Lord Daubrey said, “I’m happy to look into his final hours. What was his name and on which ship did he serve?”
She shot a grateful look at Kit and replied, “His name was Richard Dyer. He was a lieutenant on the HMS Evening Star serving under Captain Marshall.”
Lord Daubrey nodded. “I will find out what I can.”
“I’m very grateful to you, my lord. Er, Daubrey.” Susanna glanced at Esther. “I appreciate your hospitality. I will make every effort to secure lodging of my own as soon as possible.”
“Nonsense.” Lord Daubrey waved his fork. “Stay as long as you like. Esther is thrilled to have a friend staying here.”
“I certainly am, and no more talk of imposing or appreciating hospitality, for goodness sake.” Esther shook her head. “I told you that I’m looking forward to seeing some of the sights of the city. It’s always more fun doing that with someone who’s new to town because they enjoy it more than those who’ve seen it for years. I also want a woman’s opinion when I go shopping.”
Susanna gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m not sure I could be much help on your shopping selections. I haven’t been following London fashions.”
Esther waved that away. “Well, if you ask me, many of them are horrid. I mostly need you to help me choose colors and restrain me if I try to put too much lace on something.”
Considering the tasteful simplicity of Esther’s evening gown, or the beautiful blue creation she’d lent to Susanna, too much lace didn’t appear to be a fault.
The second course arrived but Susanna was so full that she could barely sample enough of the delightful dishes to avoid appearing ungracious to the host and hostess. When dessert arrived, she couldn’t eat more than a few bites.
Susanna leaned back and let out a contented sigh. How would she ever move? She would never again take for granted the delightful luxury of a full stomach.
“Do you have other plans this evening?” Kit asked Esther and Daubrey.
“Not on the Sabbath,” Esther said. She smiled at Susanna. “We usually stay home and read or enjoy music on Sundays.”
Oh, dear. She’d completely forgotten today was Sunday and had slept through church. Mama must be shaking her head up in heaven over Susanna’s carelessness. Her aunt often denied her the privilege of attending church, but she’d never failed to attend because she’d forgotten. “It sounds relaxing,” Susanna said.
“It is indeed,” Esther said. “Once the Season starts, it’s usually such a whirlwind that we look forward to quiet evenings at home on occasion. Might you
favor us with a bit of music, this evening? We have a harp in the music room. The rest of us can perform in our own way as well.”
“I’d be happy to play for you, if that is your wish.” She rubbed her fingers together, testing their soreness. Her callouses had softened in the preceding week of travel, and the last two nights she’d played a great deal, but no blisters seemed to have formed.
Rather than the ladies leaving and allowing the gentleman to linger over their port, they all rose from the table together. With her arm resting on Kit’s, she followed the Daubrey’s to the drawing room sectioned off to create a smaller, more intimate setting. Inside sat an ornate harpsichord, a gleaming pianoforte, and a Louis XVI harp with more gilding than even the harpsichord. The first time she’d been in this room, Susanna had been so focused on Kit and his family that she had hardly noticed the furnishings. A fire crackled merrily in the grate and candles flickered from all corners, atop every tabletop, and from crystal chandeliers hanging from the soaring ceilings. The lighting illuminated the room with luxurious brightness.
Esther took a turn at the pianoforte, proving herself a skilled musician. After several numbers, she raised her brows at Kit. “Did you bring your violin?”
“Not tonight, alas.” Kit grinned.
“Then you must sing for us instead.”
Kit glanced at Susanna. “Will you sing a duet with me?”
“Oh, I don’t really have a fine voice. But I look forward to hearing you sing.”
Kit made a self-deprecating bow. “I hope I don’t disappoint.”
As Esther played, Kit sang. He did, indeed have a rich, smooth voice as Susanna had suspected. After a few formal numbers, they led the others in several well-known folk songs. By the end of the evening, they were all standing around the pianoforte singing as a group. The music seemed to bind them together. For a time, Susanna forgot they were anything but the dearest of friends. Indeed, they almost felt like family.
At the end of one of the songs Susanna had been singing gustily, Kit touched the small of her back. “You are overly modest. You have a lovely voice, and I hope to hear you sing more.” His eyes shone softly, and his gaze lowered to her lips.