by Georgie Lee
‘That was unexpected,’ Justin remarked with a touch of his old humour, their accomplishment appearing to have tempered his foul mood.
‘You mean his not flinging your card away?’
‘No, you helping me, even after I dragged you to this sixth level of hell.’
It wasn’t an accusation tossed in her face, but almost a surrender of some of the vitriol he’d carried against her since learning her secret. It was as if for a moment he’d been able to see the love she still held for him. She wished she could work another miracle for him, demonstrate again the depth of her dedication to their union and remove some of the anger still clinging to him, but there wasn’t another man here with Lord Felton’s background or a soft spot for merchants.
‘You asked me in Hyde Park to help you and I said I would. I might not have told you of my condition, but it doesn’t mean every other promise I made to you was false.’
He didn’t respond, but looked past her to focus on the room, his brown eyes behind the mask thoughtful, as if he was considering not just the guests, but also what she’d said. It gave her some hope, not for tonight, but for their future.
‘My father says the two of you have been taking tea together,’ he said at last, fixing his eyes on her instead of the room.
She pressed her lips tight together, regretting her decision to keep even this seemingly innocent secret from him, especially in light of her more nefarious one. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I thought if I waited a little while longer, I might make some progress with him. I’d hoped by showing him some kindness, he might return the favour with you.’
‘He did,’ Justin admitted, the stiffness which had marked him since they’d left for the ball easing around his lips and in the set of his shoulders. ‘We spoke the other night. It was the first civil conversation we’ve had in years. Thank you.’
‘It was the least I could do after all you’ve done for me.’
A couple passed behind him, forcing Justin to step so close his chest nearly brushed against Susanna’s. Standing over her, his breath sweeping across her cheeks, he regarded her not with the stern distrust of the last few days, but as if realising for the first time since learning of the baby she hadn’t acted to trick him and didn’t think him a gullible fool. She’d done her best tonight, despite the strain between them, to demonstrate how much she still cared for him. In his acknowledgement of her efforts both tonight and with his father, there lingered something of what they’d once had together. Their love wasn’t dead, only hidden beneath his resentment and distrust.
‘I think we should go.’ He held out his arm to her.
With relief, she wrapped her hand beneath it, allowing her fingers to rest in the crook of his elbow. Nothing was settled between them, or forgiven, but in the tenderness with which he laid his hand over hers, she felt in time it would be.
They were not two steps towards the door before a sight across the room riveted her to the spot.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.
‘Lady Rockland.’ She nodded to where the duchess held court near the windows leading out to the garden. Edwina stood beside her, her roundness stuffed into a black Tudor dress with a high ruffle behind her which did nothing to flatter the increasing size of her waist. Susanna’s half-brother stood beside his sister, looking as bored and sallow as he always did at these events, less interested in displaying himself to a future wife than sneaking off to his club to drink away his evenings along with his health and a good bit of Lord Rockland’s money.
It wasn’t so much her family together which chilled her, but Lady Rockland speaking with Lord Howsham. She recognised him by the red hair peeking out from beneath his domino.
‘Let’s leave before she spies us,’ Susanna insisted, eager to avoid both Lady Rockland and Lord Howsham, but Justin refused to move.
‘Let her see us.’ He drew himself up taller beside her, the tenderness which had marked him a moment before gone as he stared at the woman in defiance. ‘I want her to see she hasn’t won.’
At last, sensing their scrutiny, Lady Rockland slid aside the mask she held on a stick, her eyes narrowing in disgust as she spied them.
Susanna shivered, for the first time truly afraid of Lady Rockland. Having realised the depths to which the duchess was willing to sink to strike at Susanna and Justin, she could only imagine what damage she intended to inflict now. Her intentions revealed themselves when she turned to Lord Howsham and levelled her mask at Susanna, drawing his attention to where she stood.
A wicked smile broke beneath his elaborate white-plaster half mask, the same conquering jeer he’d pinned her with after he’d taken her innocence. She could practically hear him laughing at having been relieved of any consequence for what he’d done.
‘Please, they’ve seen us now, let’s go.’ She tugged Justin towards the door, but he wouldn’t move.
‘Who’s the man in the white mask?’ Justin asked as Lord Howsham started towards them.
A slight sweat broke out on her neck beneath the cloak. She didn’t want to be here or face the earl and endure the nasty things he might say. ‘Lord Howsham.’
Justin’s jaw ground beneath his mask and a new fire burned in his dark eyes.
‘Let’s go.’ Susanna begged. ‘Please.’
‘No, we’ll face him.’
‘We can’t.’ If Justin had been willing to come here tonight simply to spite Lady Rockland, she could well imagine what he’d do to Lord Howsham. The man deserved it and more, but not here, not when his title gave him privileges Justin could never hope to possess, or use to protect himself.
Lord Howsham cut a deep swathe through the guests until he was in front of them, as arrogant as ever as he swept Susanna’s body with a disgusting, lascivious look. ‘Susanna, what a pleasure it is to see you here tonight.’
‘Her name is Mrs Connor,’ Justin corrected, the same force she’d seen in him at Vauxhall Gardens curling through him now.
Susanna slid her hand down his arm to intertwine her fingers with his. Even after everything that had happened, and all the doubts and heartache still lingering between them, he was standing beside her, defending her, making her and everyone see she was worthy of respect. Neither Lord Howsham nor anyone else here had the right to look down on her and she’d allow it no more. She wasn’t the bastard daughter of a duke any longer, but the wife of an honourable man she loved.
‘I’d forgotten you married her,’ Lord Howsham snorted. ‘Quite convenient for me since it relieved me of not one, but apparently two very minor problems.’
Justin’s hand tightened in hers and she noticed many masks turning to face them. She let go of Justin and came to stand toe to toe with the earl, defiant against his haughty triumph.
‘It isn’t you who was relieved of a burden, but me. To think I nearly saddled myself with a man so deep in debt he must chase after every heiress from here to York or lose his estate,’ Susanna shot back, noting with pride how Lord Howsham’s eyes widened in surprise beneath his mask before they darted to those around them who moved in closer to gather more gossip.
‘Such words from a bastard married to a mere merchant,’ Lord Howsham sneered, colouring beneath his mask at this first public confirmation of his debts and all the rumours surrounding them.
‘I’d rather be the wife of a merchant than countess to a man like you whose estate is mortgaged to the rafters, yet who still doesn’t have the fortitude to work hard to save it. While you sweat and worry about your bills, afraid to lift a finger to do anything more than turn over a few cards and waste even more blunt, I’ll be far from here and happy. I’ll never, ever give you another thought.’
Stepping back, but not flinching from the hate in Lord Howsham’s eyes, she took Justin’s hand, bolstered by the pride in his gaze. It was the same pride he’d shown her the day they’d ridden through Hyde Park, when she’d faced Lady Rockland’s wilting sneer on the stairs, refusing to back down. She never would again. These people and thei
r opinions of her were nothing and when the door to the Rocklands’ house closed behind her tonight, they’d never matter to her again.
Without a word, she and Justin turned to make for the door, the show of solidarity he’d craved on display for Lord Howsham, Lady Rockland and all society to see. It wasn’t a lie or an act, but as genuine as the diamonds around Lady Rockland’s thin neck.
‘How does it feel to have married my whore?’ Lord Howsham called out to their backs.
A gasp of shock rippled through those around them.
Justin spun on his heel and rammed his fist into the earl’s face. Lord Howsham’s mask cracked in two, falling away as he staggered back to hit a pillar. Blood slid down his nose and stained the front of his shirt as he blinked, trying to recover from his shock. The commotion brought the music to a halt and the dancers stopped, craning their necks to see what was going on.
‘I demand satisfaction for your insult to my wife,’ Justin cried, drawing the attention of the entire ballroom.
From her place near the window, Lady Rockland turned a deep shade of red with a fury Susanna had only witnessed once before—the day Lord Rockland had brought Susanna to Rockland Place. Back then, Susanna had cowered before the imperious woman; tonight she stood strong beside her husband, her defiance further darkening the crimson blotching her stepmother’s cheeks.
‘You’re no gentleman to be challenging me.’ Lord Howsham blanched more at the challenge than the blood on his fingertips.
‘Too big a coward to face me?’ Justin prodded, tearing off his own mask so everyone could see his face.
Lord Howsham looked around at all the masked people watching him, as if hoping one person with a cooler head might step forward and settle the matter. No one, not even Lord Rockland, who must have been among the disguised merrymakers, moved. Justin was backing him into a corner. Lord Howsham would have no choice but to accept. Without the anonymity of his mask, everyone would witness Lord Howsham shying from a challenge, one from a man beneath him in rank no less. He’d never be able to show his face in society again if he didn’t agree to the duel.
‘I accept your challenge,’ Lord Howsham declared for everyone to hear, but there was no mistaking the flutter in his voice. For once he’d have to deal with the consequences of his actions. If the man he was facing wasn’t Justin, Susanna would cheer for the duel. Instead she stared back and forth between the two men in horror. This wasn’t how she wanted this to end. ‘We’ll meet at dawn with pistols.’
‘My favourite weapon.’ Justin smiled darkly at Lord Howsham, who cringed back, hiding his fear behind the handkerchief he pressed to his still-bleeding nose. ‘Bring your physician. You’ll need him.’
Justin grabbed Susanna’s hand and pulled her towards the entrance. People parted to let them pass, gawking in disbelief. Behind them the crowd closed and the whispers rose to drown out the now playing violins. They were the talk of society, a spectacle to amuse and disgust all the lords and ladies and for the first time in her life Susanna didn’t care. All she could think about was Justin and the danger waiting for him tomorrow morning.
Susanna nearly tripped in her effort to keep up with Justin’s hard stride as they marched down the pavement outside the Rocklands’. He pulled her along the line of carriages until they found his chaise, the small vehicle obscured by the massive town coaches filling the street. She climbed inside, struggling to breathe against her stays and the panic making her heart race.
Justin thudded into the seat beside her and banged on the roof to set the vehicle in motion.
‘Maybe he’ll send his second to apologise, then you won’t have to meet. He’s a coward. He might do it.’ Susanna rushed on. This wasn’t how she wanted things to end, for Justin to put his life in danger for her honour or his. ‘He can refuse you and he might since you aren’t—’
‘A gentleman?’ Justin finished in a tone as hard as a grinding stone.
She didn’t care if his ego was bruised. She wanted him alive, not dead with his pride intact, especially not in defence of her. ‘He won’t lose face if he does, at least not among his class.’
‘I struck him, he can’t refuse me now.’ Justin crossed his arms as if welcoming the coming fight, so sure he wouldn’t die, but she knew better. A duel was an unpredictable way to settle a matter of honour.
‘At one time you didn’t care what these people thought of you and urged me to do the same. Now you’re willing to risk your life to prove yourself to them?’
‘I won’t be mocked, not by Lord Howsham or by anyone.’
‘What good is your dignity if you lose?’ Susanna pressed, refusing to allow the darkness filling him to make him risk his life. In the ballroom when he’d thanked her for her friendship with his father, it’d seemed the beginning of a fragile peace between them, one Lord Howsham’s insults had killed. If she could call it back, build it and him up again, maybe he might not meet the earl in the morning.
‘Dr Hale will be there,’ Justin scoffed, focused on the quiet London streets passing by outside the chaise. The late hour had drained the lanes of traffic and any impediment to a quick journey home.
‘He can’t put your head back together if Lord Howsham shoots it off.’
He jerked upright, his hands tight on the edge of the squabs. ‘Still you have no faith in me. You think I’m nothing but a reckless idiot. He insulted you. Don’t you care?’
‘No, not any more. I only care about you and keeping you alive.’
‘Don’t fret too much. If I die you’ll get everything for yourself and the child,’ he mocked.
‘I don’t want it if it means losing you.’ She was determined to remain steadfast in the face of his derision. This wasn’t the Justin she’d come to love, the one who met adversity with an easy smile and a quick wit, but one driven by a pain she understood. She wouldn’t allow it to consume him as it’d once consumed his father or her so many times. ‘Everyone I’ve ever loved and who ever loved me has ended up in the churchyard—my grandmother, my mother. I won’t see my husband buried there, too.’
He stared at her, the mockery knocked out of him by her honesty. His eyes softened, but not his tight grip on the leather. She waited, hoping her words were enough to help him see beyond this crisis to the future they’d planned and the love they could rebuild.
The chaise slowed, leaning to make a turn before rocking to a halt in front of their house.
‘It might not have come to this if you’d thought me a better man and not hidden your child from me,’ he said at last, throwing open the door and stepping out of the carriage.
She climbed down into the sharp cold of the night, facing him on the pavement.
‘I did it because I was afraid and I didn’t know you as I do now.’ She took his hand and raised it to her lips to press a tender kiss against the skin. He didn’t jerk away from her or accuse her of playing him for a fool, but allowed her to hold him and it gave her hope. ‘I love you and I’m certain you still love me. Forget the duel and society and everyone. They don’t matter, only we do.’
His fingers curled around hers and she held her breath, praying the man inside him, the one whose optimism had captured her heart, would win against the one so determined to fight.
Then his fingers eased and he withdrew his hand. ‘I have things to see to before tomorrow morning.’
He climbed back into the chaise and without a second look set off.
With a heavy heart she watched him go, his demons driving him on. She prayed clearer heads, or Lord Howsham’s cowardice, might prevent their meeting at dawn.
* * *
‘Is that all, then, Mr Connor?’ Mr Woodson, Philip’s solicitor, asked, looking up from the will he’d been summoned to draw up according to Justin’s instructions. As sure as Justin was of his aim, he still needed his affairs to be in order before sunrise.
‘No.’ Justin ceased his pacing of Philip’s office to stare out at the moonlit garden and the dark corner of the portico where he and
Susanna had first kissed. The roses had faded since then, leaving only a few buds clinging to the thorn-ridden stems. Susanna’s pale and worried face from across the chaise haunted him, as did her pleas for him to end this, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t about to allow Lord Howsham’s insults to stand or to prove himself the gullible idiot they believed him to be. ‘In the event I die, all is to be left to Susanna, including the care of my father.’
‘Might not Mr Rathbone be a better guardian?’ Mr Woodson asked. Having fought to make Justin his father’s guardian, he knew something of Mr Connor’s reputation.
‘Susanna will do. She and my father have become friends.’
The man nodded in surprise. ‘I suppose every man has it in him to change.’
‘I suppose he does.’ His father’s apology and the contrition and regret which had lengthened the lines of his face came back to him. If Justin hadn’t been wallowing in his own pain and heartache, he could have hugged his father and put to rest for good the turmoil between them. His father had changed for the better under Susanna’s influence. How different things might be now if Justin had allowed her influence to work on him.
Shifting, he caught his reflection in the window pane, the serious man who met him in the glass barely recognisable. She was right, he wasn’t the same person who’d driven with her through Hyde Park as if nothing in the world could diminish his spirits. He was a hypocrite, telling her not to care what others thought while he left their insults and derision to fester until he was willing to risk his life to prove they were wrong about him.
‘Is that all, then?’ Mr Woodson pressed him again, covering a large yawn with the back of his hand, not the only person in the room feeling the late hour.
Justin opened and closed his fingers by his side. The memory of Susanna’s warm hand, and the faint brush of her lips against his flesh, crept through him more than the fury which had driven him away from her. On the pavement, she’d almost made him believe she truly cared for him. He’d wanted to believe it, but he’d ignored his intuition one too many times before and it’d cost him. Whether his instinct was still worth employing as a guide he wasn’t sure. Everything was clouded by his hate of Lord Howsham and everyone who’d ever looked down on him. ‘Yes.’