by Anna Small
Laughter spilled over the music in the salon, and he sidestepped the room, going instead into a smaller parlor before facing the guests. How Alice could have decided upon a party at the last minute irked him, but he would make a brief appearance. After all, he was the powerful Earl of Falconbury, and people depended upon him to remain steady in the storm of national crisis, no matter if his heart had broken into a million pieces.
The parlor had been set up for drinks for the gentlemen after supper. Ignoring the brandy, Frederick poured a draught of neat whiskey. He usually detested the stuff, but tonight, he’d make an exception.
He was on his second glass when the door opened.
“I thought you might be in here.” Susanna closed the door behind her. She spotted the whiskey decanter and raised an eyebrow. “Did Jane stay on at her sister’s?”
Frederick finished his drink in one smooth gulp. “Yes.”
“Oh, what a pity. I was hoping she’d go with me to the National Gallery in the morning. There’s a watercolor exhibit…Freddie, dear, what’s wrong?”
He sank into a chair, dizzy and weak. “I haven’t supped all day. Just the whiskey on an empty stomach.” He patted her hand. “I doubt she’d go anywhere with you, Susanna, even if she were here. She has it in her head…” He shrugged, sighing. “It doesn’t matter. She’s not coming back.”
Susanna knelt beside him, her sky blue eyes—George’s eyes—sparkling with unshed tears. “What do you mean? She seemed so…so happy with you, so in love. I cannot believe…”
“Believe it,” he snapped, rising unsteadily from the chair and pouring another drink. Susanna stood in front of him. As he raised the glass to his lips, she deftly took it from him. “Give that back.”
“I won’t let you do this, Freddie.” He’d never noticed the steely resolve in her eyes before. “You must go to her and apologize. Beg her forgiveness. Whatever it takes.”
“Apologize? Have you lost your senses? I have done no wrong. She has accused me of the vilest, unprecedented behavior…”
“She is your wife.” She gripped his arm. “You love her, and you know she loves you. She’s young, Freddie. What, only one-and-twenty? How many mistakes did you make at that age? She is mistaken about you, as you say. Whatever it is, you must make amends. You belong with each other.” Her voice rose in tearful passion.
“You wouldn’t defend her if you knew what she’d said.”
He snatched for the glass, but Susanna expertly drained it, gasping aloud and coughing when she’d finished. “What did she say?” She placed the glass on the opposite end of the table.
He stared down at the woman he’d always thought of as a sister, which was what George had desired as he lay dying on the rocky battlefield below the fortress of San Sebastian. Frederick had vowed to watch over her and had always strived to do so.
She waited for his answer. He brushed a wayward curl off the ivory shell of her ear. Susanna was the only female he could talk to when he came home from the war, battle-scarred in many ways beyond the physical. Affectionate and open, she’d always kissed and embraced him at her leisure, ignoring what people might think. He could understand now how someone who didn’t know him well—someone like Jane—would make the worst possible assumption.
“She believes you are my mistress.”
Susanna gaped at him before splitting into laughter. “Oh, Freddie, no! How could she think something like that?”
“Perhaps because you’ve spent a lot of time with us, but I was trying to foster a relationship between you. I don’t know how she could have come to such a preposterous conclusion. I’m sure I never hinted at such a thing.” He turned away, remorse tearing at him. “It’s why she took”—he inhaled sharply—“a lover of her own.”
Her face glowed scarlet. “I don’t believe it, not for one moment. You must be mistaken. Jane would never…”
“You don’t know what I’ve seen…what I’ve pretended not to see.”
“You saw wrong, then. She would never do anything so dreadful. I never saw any woman so in love.”
“She’s in love with Jeremy Parker.” He spat the words, facing her again. Venom wound its way through his heart, stabbing him as fiercely as if it were a steel blade. “I saw it in Shropshire, when we first met. I pretended not to see it because I wanted her for myself. I found a letter from Lucinda asserting Jeremy has broken off his engagement to a Miss Dudley due to Jane’s influence. Now I must pay for my presumption. It is what I deserve for—”
His words cut off, and he paced the room, wretched and miserable. Susanna shook her head slowly.
“Oh, Freddie,” she whispered. “Do you blame yourself for George’s death? After all these years?”
“He would never have been in danger had it not been for my stupidity. I always knew I would answer for it.”
“And this is how fate—or destiny—has repaid you? By taking away your love?”
“I do not expect you to understand.”
“I understand you are carrying guilt for something you could not control. George loved the army. He was going off to fight with or without you. I begged him not to go, but he would not hear me. He knew the risks…”
“I caused his death. I tried to tell you before, but you will not listen.”
She blinked back tears. “Because it isn’t true. You must not carry this burden any longer. It will destroy you.”
“Do you think I care anymore?” He pounded his fist on a side table. Her anguished face rent his heart. “Forgive me.”
“You are wrong about Jane, Freddie. She and Jeremy are not in love. I should have been more forthcoming. Jeremy and I…”
“Don’t, Susanna. You needn’t make up stories to protect her. It’s over, done with.”
“He broke off his engagement so he could marry me.”
His brow furrowed in disbelief. After a moment, he barked a laugh. “Enough, Susanna! I cannot bear this discussion any further.”
She stepped forward and clasped her hands around his. “It is true, Freddie. I love Jeremy. We’re to be married, as soon as he finds a position with his uncle’s firm.”
He could only stare at her. “Impossible. I warned you a long time ago not to let him trifle with you. After he saw you in Bath—” His jaw clenched. “I should’ve settled with him long ago, had I known it would come to this.”
“I was a child, then! I’m twenty years old, now. I’m all grown up.”
“Yes, so grown up. George would turn in his grave if he knew you had betrothed yourself to a fop, a…a puffed-up, dandified…”
“He’s none of those things. He loves me, and I love him!” She glared at him. “You may love me as a sister, Freddie, and God knows no one could have cared for me more than a brother or father, but you must listen to me now. I have chosen Jeremy as my future husband. He was never in love with Jane, nor she with him. They are only friends.”
“But…” He shrugged, trying to comprehend the bizarre situation. “What of Lucinda’s letter?”
“His engagement to Beatrice Dudley was arranged by his father. They have never even met. Jane convinced him to choose love over duty. She knew his feelings for me and encouraged him on my behalf.”
He sank into a chair and pressed his hand to his eyes. “You swear—Susanna, do you swear this is all true? You’re not just saying this to give me false hope?”
She knelt beside him and pulled his hand to her cheek. “Oh, dearest brother,” she whispered, kissing his hand, “I need only show you proof when you give me away at my wedding. You will, won’t you?”
Perhaps he’d been too blind, seeing Jeremy only as a rival for Jane’s affections that he’d overlooked his other qualities.
True, he was a man about town, but Susanna would quickly mold him into the right sort of husband. He trailed his finger across her soft, downy cheek, damp with tears.
He should have seen it. Now she’d spoken the words, it was painfully obvious her love for Parker had been there all along.<
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The convenient meeting at Lady Harrington’s scandalous party—the only place two people in love who wished to keep a secret could meet. Opera tickets in Susanna’s hand while Jeremy had a box for the same evening.
He’d assumed it was all Jane’s doing.
Sweet, shy Jane, who’d fled Everhill lest anyone force a marriage between her and a man she didn’t love. The same Jane who’d blushed and stammered whenever he spoke to her, though she treated Jeremy with casual indifference. Jane, who’d cried herself to sleep for three weeks when she hadn’t received any word from him.
George had wanted Susanna to be happy. He wanted her to be happy. He squeezed her hand.
“I would be honored, Susanna.”
She embraced him with a cry. “Thank you, thank you.”
“I should have let you make your own choices, Susanna dear. I just wanted what was best for you.”
“I know.” She kissed his cheek as Alice entered the room.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Good heavens!” Alice arched a disdainful eyebrow. “Susanna, I sent you to find Frederick, not seduce him.”
Frederick stifled a laugh. He hadn’t felt so happy in a long while. “Actually, Alice, I won’t be in for dinner, after all. I must go to my wife.”
“Your wife? What, Jane didn’t return with you?”
A menacing gleam in her eye gave her away. His pulse raced. “What do you know of Jane, Alice?” He moved past Susanna to stand before Alice, who shrank beneath his gaze. “May I also ask why you are having a dinner party when you are not yet out of mourning for my brother?”
She tossed her head, the movement shaking the diamond brooch clasped to her hair. “I’m sure I have no idea as to what you are insinuating. I am in half-mourning now and have only invited a few close friends.” Her head tipped in Susanna’s direction. “Her, for example. As a favor to you,” she added slyly.
Frederick willed his temper to remain hidden beneath the layers of calm he had mastered over the years whenever he found himself in Alice’s presence. “I will see Susanna whenever I choose, and when she wishes it. Let me be blunt, Alice: did you suggest to my wife she should take a lover, or, worse, imply to her I had one?” He paused. “Susanna, for instance?”
The pale face flushed red. She backed toward the door. Susanna crossed the floor and seized her arm.
“What have you done? How could you tell her Freddie and I have any kind of relationship beyond that of a brother and sister? You know George was his best friend, and Freddie took care of me after he was gone. You knew, yet you lied. How could you?”
“I don’t know what you’re implying. Unhand me!” She tore from Susanna’s grasp. “Everyone knows that fine gentlemen have mistresses! It’s hardly a secret. Why, Henry…” She gulped on a sob. “Henry had several. He thought he kept them secrets, but I always knew. Even the housemaids were not immune to his advances.” She glared at Frederick, eyes burning. “You are the same as him. I’ve seen how you talk to them—how you look at other women. How you look at her.”
She nodded viciously at Susanna. Frederick shook his head. Realization of what Henry had done to Alice struck him like a blow to the chest.
“You are mistaken, Alice. I have never taken a mistress. What Henry did is between you and him. He’s not alive to defend himself, however. I am truly sorry he caused you such misery.”
She stared at him in agonized silence. Her lower lip trembled, and she crumpled in tears, sagging to her knees. Susanna pulled her up. Alice collapsed in her arms, wailing.
“I have no children, nothing from him!” She shook with helpless sobs.
Shooting Frederick a look, Susanna indicated he should help. Biting back more of what he longed to say, he stooped to help Alice into a chair. He handed her his handkerchief, and she mopped her face, but the tears continued.
“He took my girlhood…my innocence! I was a good wife to him. I thought he loved me. I deserved to be loved.” Her words ended with a plea.
Susanna stared helplessly at Frederick. He clasped Alice’s shoulder firmly.
“There, now. We cannot change the past, Alice. I’m sure Henry loved you…”
She shook her head violently, raising her tear-streaked, reddened face to him. “He did not. There were others before me. He was in love with your housekeeper’s daughter when he was a boy at Dornley Park. Your father sent her away. Henry told me so.” New tears spilled forth. “But he could not marry her, of course. He chose me, and more’s the pity.”
Frederick sat on a footstool by Alice’s feet, and Susanna knelt opposite. Together, they held Alice’s hands.
“You’ve acted foolishly, but perhaps all the damage you’ve caused may be put to rights.” He turned to Susanna. “On my way out, I’ll tell the guests their hostess has fallen ill. Ring for her maid to put her to bed.”
“Where are you going?” Susanna asked.
“Where else?” A smile reached his lips. “I must go to her. I can be at her sister’s by morning.”
“And bring her back to this?” Susanna waved her arm to encompass the room, Alice, and the strains of the musicians in the ballroom.
“What am I to do, then? Leave her at home?”
“No, of course not. But you can’t bring her back here. You’ll both be unhappy.” She chewed her lip, deep in thought. “If only the session was over, and you were free to live at Dornley Park.”
“Yes, and if only I were not the Earl of Falconbury, but ordinary Colonel Blakeney, none of this would have happened.”
“That is true,” she admitted.
While Frederick considered his options, none of which appeared promising, the door banged open. A familiar face grinned rakishly at him, the smile quickly vanishing into a frown as the scene unfolded.
“Good lord, Freddie—whatever have you and Miss Suzy done to poor Alice?”
Frederick stood back as the older man who resembled Henry hurried to Alice, falling to his knees beside her and tugging her into his arms. Frederick couldn’t help but notice with a dash of irony how easily Alice’s arms went around the man’s neck as she gave in to new sobs, encouraged by the patting hands on her back and tender whispers in her ear.
“Cousin Felix,” Frederick murmured, glancing at Susanna, who appeared stunned. Now he understood the hastily arranged dinner party and Alice’s recent lack of mourning attire. He recalled spotting Alice and Felix together in his mother’s garden, shortly after she’d married Henry. He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, as Alice claimed to be attending to a cut on Felix’s hand.
“Nice to see you, Frederick. How have you been? When you’re not upsetting helpless females, that is.”
Frederick poured two glasses of brandy, hesitated, and poured a third. Susanna helped bring them to Felix and Alice, who now sat closely together on the couch, their hands clasped so intimately that Frederick didn’t know whether to be shocked or amused. He settled on resignation and raised his glass a few inches in salute. After a pause, Felix raised his. Alice averted her gaze, and he took some spiteful pleasure from her guilty blush.
“I have been in the land of the living, I’m happy to say,” Frederick remarked. He indicated the couple with his glass. “Here’s to old acquaintances.”
“Hear, hear,” Felix murmured and gulped down the liquor. Alice’s glass remained in her hands.
“Somebody, please—explain to me…” Susanna choked, but Frederick waved her words away.
“Is it not obvious, Susanna? My cousin Felix has found love in the arms of my brother’s widow.”
Felix snorted, while Alice dropped her head even lower. The youthful blush was rather becoming on her, and Frederick remembered when she’d first come to Dornley Park, a vivacious, fresh-faced debutante, excited about marrying the newly invested Earl of Falconbury. Dashing, handsome Henry. Wealthy, fun-loving Henry, who, apparently, shared more of himself with women other than his wife. He couldn’t blame her for falling in love with Felix, the only son of thei
r father’s sole brother, and marquess in his own right on his mother’s side.
“You make it seem sordid, Freddie,” Felix retorted, but his dark brown eyes, the mark of the Blakeneys, were amused. “I loved her the day we met, that first summer she came to your house. If I’d had my title and great fortune back then, I’d have won her. But”—he shrugged, and Frederick noted the smug smile hidden behind an air of reproach—“Henry was the lucky fellow.”
“But now Henry is gone.” Frederick sipped his brandy and quickly put the glass down. The taste had become abhorrent. “Convenient, but—” He extended his hand to Felix. “Who am I to stand in the way of love? Congratulations.”
Felix shook his hand cautiously, but with more fervor when he realized there was no bitterness. He helped Alice to her feet and slid his arm around her waist. “We mean to be married quickly, Freddie. I’ve no intention of waiting another twenty years for her to say yes.” He glanced down at Alice, the self-assured grin vanishing with a look of such tenderness Frederick nearly choked. “If you’ll have me, Alice, dear.”
She pressed her hand against his heart and gave him an unabashed look of love. “Yes, Felix,” she murmured, and he kissed her lightly on the nose.
Frederick looked at Susanna, who appeared to sag with relief now the worst was over. “Well, do not stand on ceremony on Henry’s account. By all means, marry at once, by special license.”
Alice gasped. “What will people say, Frederick? Henry’s only been gone…”
“Nonsense,” he assured them all, “Felix is a blood relative. It’s quite common for a brother or cousin to step in and care for the widow.” He winked at Felix. “Alice is no ordinary widow, after all. She has inherited all of Henry’s debts and liens. Another year of waiting, for courtesy’s sake, would ruin her.” He noted Felix’s fine buff trousers and heavy gold watch fob. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, cousin.” He grinned.
Felix smirked. “As it happens, Cousin, your brother Edwin introduced me to some maharajas who are eager to open trade with England.” He made an elaborate show of tugging on his cuffs, which bore great ruby cufflinks. “I am more than capable of settling Henry’s debts, if it means making Alice happy.”