by Georgie Lee
Together, they hustled to straighten her skirts and she was just composed when the driver opened the door. Jumping out, Justin pulled her along behind him. They rushed past Walter, who held open the door, and up the small staircase, reaching Justin’s room and slamming the door closed behind them.
Together they toppled on to his bed. With deft fingers she slid his buttons through their holes and tugged his breeches down over his hips. The cold air of the room hit him and he closed his eyes, opening them in surprise when Susanna’s gentle lips brushed the tip of his hardness. He moaned as her mouth slid over him. With her tongue she teased him and he grew tighter with each satiny caress until at last she sat up and he groaned his frustration, opening his eyes to pin her with a look of pent-up need he could feel deep inside of her.
Pulling her skirts up around her waist, she straddled him, sliding down to take him inside her. He let out a low, guttural sound as she ground her hips against his. He raked her thighs with his fingers and her stocking-clad feet curled beneath her on the bed as she moved with a steady pace over him. As her body began to tighten around him, he clasped her thighs, his strokes coming faster and faster until his cries joined hers and she collapsed on his chest, the ripples of her pleasure caressing his.
She laid down over him and rested her cheek against his chest, closer to him than anyone had ever been. For all his jokes and humour, for all his teasing and pretending not to care, there’d existed inside him a loneliness she now filled. He didn’t want to lose it any more than he wanted to let go of her now.
They laid together in silence for some time, Justin tracing lazy circles on Susanna’s still-exposed thigh. She fingered the line of his uncovered hip, her gentle touch increasing the contentment their lovemaking had brought him. Helena’s insults had struck a nerve he thought his father’s condemnation had long made him blunt to, but Susanna’s sure belief in him had eased the sting.
‘I couldn’t have managed the start of my business so well without you,’ he admitted, breaking the quiet punctuated by birds and a maid calling to someone across the street.
‘You could have. You have a way with people. I’ve seen how you handle the men who deliver the wine and the ones at the docks who you buy it from. You’re a natural charmer.’
‘But Helena is right, I don’t have a head for the details.’ It nearly choked him to say it. ‘It’s why I’ve left them to you.’
She lifted her face to his, resting her chin on her hand on his chest. ‘And I have no gift with the importers. It’s why we do so well together.’
He pulled her closer. ‘I lied to you when I said nothing ever troubles me.’
‘I know.’ She slid down beside him and rested her head on his shoulder.
‘Ever since my mother died, it’s killed me to see my father drinking himself to death. He used to be like me, capable of charming anyone. It’s what my mother said she loved so much about him. I barely remember what that man was like.’
‘Perhaps if you talk to him,’ she urged.
‘I’ve tried, many times. I’m always polite when we’re together, but it never makes a difference.’ He wound one of her loose curls around his finger, hating to admit his failure with his father. It was as devastating as the loss of his ship and much more lasting because he couldn’t overcome it. ‘No matter what I do, it doesn’t make a difference to him.’
‘Don’t be so sure, Justin.’
‘It’s hard not to be. What hurts the most is what he says about me. Sometimes, I think he’s right.’ He stared at the ceiling and the small crack in the plaster snaking over the bed, unable to face her, despising how weak and sad the admission made him.
She propped herself up on one elbow to sit above him, caressing his face with her hand. The light coming through the cracks in the curtains glittered in her eyes and caught the wispy strands of hair cascading down the side of her face. ‘Don’t let others define you, or set your value. It’s something I’ve allowed people to do to me for years and it’s never made me happy or changed their opinion of me.’
He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. ‘You’re as wise as you are beautiful.’
He drew her down and her hair fell over him as he tasted her lips, the sweetness of them driving back, but not silencing, the foul insults he’d endured for years and the failures which followed on their heels. He was a better man than all those people believed, one worthy of his wife’s love. In time, with her help, he’d silence everyone who thought otherwise.
The clock on the mantel chimed one o’clock. With a sigh, Justin disentangled himself from Susanna. He wanted to linger here, but numerous details now demanded his attention.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked.
He stood, tugged his breeches up over his hips and did up the fall. ‘Your father is expecting me and I have a great deal of charming to do.’
The glow from their lovemaking faded from her face and she chewed her lower lip in worry. ‘Be careful with the Rocklands. I don’t trust them.’
‘What can they do except renege on their word?’
‘More than you realise,’ she murmured as if she knew something he didn’t.
‘Such as?’
Apprehension drew down the corners of her lips before she regained her smile. ‘Nothing. I’m sure you’ll dazzle my father with all the charm you use with your other contacts.’
‘Indeed, I will.’ He pressed a kiss to her forehead, ignoring the strange sense there was more to her worry than she was revealing. ‘I’ll be back soon.’
* * *
Susanna watched him slip out the door, leaving her alone in the semi-darkness of the room. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, wishing she’d gone with him. It wouldn’t stop Lady Rockland from lashing out at them if she chose to, but at least it would prevent her from worrying about what might happen while Justin and her father were together.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she rose and made for her room to change her dress, determined not to fret. Nothing would happen. All would be well, just as Justin had promised last night. Selecting a new dress from the wardrobe, she shrugged out of her old one. The faint smell of Justin clinging to the muslin might be a comfort, but she could hardly go through the rest of the day so dishevelled.
* * *
An hour later, dressed in a simple white gown with green sprigs and with her hair confined once again to its coiffure, she sat at the writing table reviewing the week’s menu. The satisfaction of her lovemaking with Justin had long since eased and had been replaced by the anxiety which continued to prick at her like a pin left in a dress. She didn’t want Justin anywhere near the Rockland house, or her stepmother and the secret she held. It would be a long few hours before he returned and she learned if her secret was safe, or everything was coming to pieces.
She was so distracted with worry she didn’t hear the elder Mr Connor until he sauntered into the sitting room unannounced.
‘A good day to you, Mrs Connor.’ He swept off his hat and handed the dented Wellington to Walter.
‘And you, too, Mr Connor.’ They went to the dining room where Mrs Robinson laid out the tea and set before him the half-full bottle of port. Mr Connor’s hands still shook as he poured out a measure of the drink, but he didn’t appear as rumpled or careworn today as he had during his first few visits. His coming to the house had become a habit over the past week. He seemed to know with unfailing canniness when his son wouldn’t be home.
‘Thank you for treating me as you do. I haven’t felt this well in a long time.’ He patted her hand in the fatherly way which had developed between them during their teas. ‘I sometimes think, if my wife had lived and with her the little girl, she might have grown up to be like you.’
Susanna struggled to maintain her smile. He wouldn’t wish for a daughter like her if he learned what kind of woman she really was. She settled her hands over her stomach, noting the slight thickness where the child was growing inside h
er. For all her kindness to Mr Connor and his son, she was still a charlatan, a fallen woman who hadn’t had the sense to remember herself in the face of a man’s false promises.
‘I’d like to tell Justin of our teas and have him join us one of these days,’ Susanna offered.
‘Don’t go ruining a man’s meal with such unpleasant business,’ Mr Connor chided her, taking a long drink before setting the teacup back in its saucer.
‘If you both spoke civilly to one another, you might be surprised how different things could be between you.’
Mr Connor scratched his head, mussing his already wild grey hair. ‘Gets to be so many years, a man doesn’t know where to start.’
‘The simplest, most direct approach is best.’
‘But not always the easiest.’ With a wink reminiscent of his son’s, he held up his cup to her, then took a hearty sip. ‘But I suppose nothing worth doing is ever easy.’
‘Then you’ll see him?’ Susanna asked.
‘Let’s see what time brings.’
It wasn’t a promise, but she felt sure he would soon face his son just as she was now certain how much port to place in the bottle, or which tarts were his favourites. There was no denying the change in Mr Connor and even Mrs Robinson had remarked on it. Whether it would last or result in any peace between father and son, she still couldn’t say, but she’d continue to try and mend the rift between them. She owed this much to Justin in thanks for all he’d done for her, known and unknown.
Chapter Ten
‘Here you are, Mr Connor, a complete list of the wines I require for Lady Rockland’s masque.’ The duke handed a sheet of paper across the wide oak desk to Justin. The entire room was grand, imposing, meant to make a man like Justin cower before the wealth and influence of Lord Rockland, but it did nothing to intimidate him. Today the duke might own the world, tomorrow his debts might consume him and force him to sell off the full-length Van Dyke hanging on the wall behind him.
Justin took the paper and examined it, careful to conceal his true reaction at the sheer number of bottles and vintages required. It would take all his connections throughout London, and quite possibly in the countryside, to acquire everything on the list. It’d be even more of a challenge given he had only a few days to achieve it, but he wasn’t about to fail. Despite Susanna’s worries about Lord Rockland’s support, Justin was confident a man impressed was a man he’d continue to do business with. ‘I’ll have this to you in time, Your Grace.’
‘Are you sure?’ Lord Rockland regarded him with more shock than admiration at the alacrity with which Justin answered. ‘It’s quite an extensive selection.’
The sense the list was something of a test nagged at Justin, but he wasn’t about to give Lord Rockland a gentlemanly way out of their bargain. ‘I assure you, I’ll have everything delivered in time.’
‘Of course you will,’ he answered with some disappointment. ‘You do understand, after the masque, the two of you cannot expect further invitations or help from me in regards to your business. A man of my station can hardly be expected to meddle in the affairs of merchants. I’ve done my best to be responsible, as I have with all my other obligations, giving Susanna a most generous dowry which an enterprising couple could make more use of than my limited influence.’
It was then Justin understood why the duke had taken Susanna in, but shown her no real love or affection. She was a duty, not his daughter. He was honourable enough to assume those duties laid at his feet, but once they were discharged, he would wash his hands of them, as he would Susanna and Justin after this order was fulfilled.
‘You’ve been very generous with Susanna and you needn’t worry about us. I made my way in the world before I married your daughter. I will again.’
Lord Rockland silently regarded him with, if Justin dared to think it, respect, the kind his father hadn’t even grudgingly shown him. ‘I have no doubt you will.’
Lord Rockland rose and nodded to Justin, bringing their meeting to an end. ‘Good day to you, Mr Connor.’
Tucking the list in his coat pocket, Justin followed the waiting footman out of the high-ceilinged study, down the wide avenue of the hallway and to the expansive space of the entrance hall with the tall double doors set in the far end. For all his bravado in Lord Rockland’s presence, the clear understanding there would be no more patronage was a blow. Susanna had tried to warn him, but he’d held out hope she might somehow be wrong. He should have listened to her. This must have been what she’d attempted to caution him about before he’d left. She knew the Rocklands better than he did, but still Justin wanted the great man’s business. Lord Rockland’s support would’ve smoothed the way to quicker success and the ability to rub it in the faces of his detractors sooner. Without the high-born patronage, Justin would once again be left to make his own way.
‘Here to beg from my husband so soon?’ A voice from somewhere above Justin made him stop. He turned to watch Lady Rockland descend the stairs, eyeing him as though he were a bug scurrying across her dinner plate. ‘Has your business failed already?’
‘I’m here at Lord Rockland’s request.’ Justin struggled to maintain his smile, seeing first-hand the wickedness Susanna must have suffered under the woman. ‘My shop is doing well, thank you. Susanna is proving quite an asset.’
‘It’s fitting since she was born to such a low station in life.’ Lady Rockland came to face Justin in an imperious rustle of black silk, her tight curls unmoving against her head. ‘And she’s brought you such a great deal beside her support, hasn’t she? Money, connection to my husband, a child.’
Justin cocked his head at the woman. ‘I have no doubt there will be children in the future.’
‘There’ll be a child sooner than you think, Mr Connor, one with a bloodline more distinguished than yours, but condemned to life as the common offspring of a wine merchant.’
The house rocked around Justin. He stood still, summoning up everything he’d ever learned from his father, Philip or at the pugilist club to centre himself and keep a hard restraint on the anger, disbelief and confusion rising inside him. Susanna hadn’t deceived him. It was this wicked woman trying to cause trouble.
‘Saying such a thing can be of no benefit to a woman of your rank and manners.’
‘It is if it means you won’t pollute my house with your or your wife’s presence ever again.’ Her tight face sharpened the jut of her square chin. ‘My husband might welcome you here, but I won’t have you set foot in this house again. He may want to wallow in his sins, but not me. I suggest you don’t assist him in the endeavour by not attending the ball.’
Justin didn’t answer, but executed the same bow which had shocked her the first time they’d met. Then he turned on his heel and made for the door.
‘Through the back door, Mr Connor, where the rest of the tradesmen call.’
Justin didn’t break his stride as he marched towards the front door. The butler moved to step in front of it and block his exit, but Justin pinned him with a scowl to nearly fell him dead. The man drew back, leaving Justin to pull open the tall wooden doors and step outside. He left it to the hired man to close them behind him and, with his head held high, climbed into the chaise.
The streets of Grosvenor Square passed on either side of him in a blur as he stared at the empty seat across from his. It wasn’t Lady Rockland’s slight which had followed him out of the house like the stench of beer from a brewery, but her accusation.
Susanna is carrying Lord Howsham’s child.
Justin banged his fist on the side of the chaise. He wouldn’t let this consume him, not until he reached home and heard from Susanna it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t put it past the old carthorse to lie in an attempt to cause trouble between the two of them, or ensure Justin was so disgusted by the duchess he stayed away from her husband, the house and the masque. Yet the instinct he’d relied on to keep himself and Philip safe prickled along the back of his neck. He’d trusted his senses too many t
imes to his benefit to shake the feeling off as a mistake now.
Justin trilled his fingers on the squabs. Susanna’s attempt to speak to him in Gunter’s the day before the wedding added to his torment. Something had pressed on her enough to dull the usual sharpness of her eyes and make her appear as worried as a pickpocket before the magistrate. Justin’s stomach dropped. She’d been intimate with Lord Howsham and when she’d tried to elaborate, he’d refused to listen, believing with too much glibness nothing from his past or hers could trouble them. By cutting her off, he’d made it easier for her to deceive him, or abandon whatever guilt her conscience drove her to relieve.
Self-disgust whirled in him to muddle with his anger. He should’ve listened, he shouldn’t have been such a starry-eyed fool, too focused on the shop and the future to see what was in front of him. Assuming what Lady Rockland had said was true. He didn’t know, but he’d soon find out.
The streets outside grew more familiar as the chaise rumbled down Fleet Street. Justin tugged at his cravat, irritated by the cloying heat inside the carriage. He pulled down the window, but the thick air outside, rank with horses and the river’s stench, was no better. He fell back against the squabs, hands tight on his thighs, trying to regain his calm, but one thought kept stealing it from him. What would his father and Helena say if the rumours reached them? They’d laugh and call him a cuckold, and every damning thing they’d thought of him would be proved right by the one woman he’d come to rely on and love more than any other.
He tapped his heel against the floor, pulling back his condemnation. Before he’d left, Susanna had worried Lady Rockland might strike at him and she had. This had to be a lie, it needed to be. With his street coming into view, he’d soon have his answer and surely all his worries would be for nothing.