by Jane Lark
Susan put the ribbon between the pages of her book to mark her place, then set the book aside and stood up.
“Henry was in very high spirits last evening,” her mother commented as Susan slipped on her shoes, “and he does seem earnest regarding his affection for Alethea.”
Susan crossed the room.
She had enjoyed dancing with him last night. He was a good dancer, even with a weak arm, and he had been pleasant company, he’d made her laugh, and taken her teasing with a solid chin. Then during supper he’d spoken to her as much as Alethea and Captain Morgan. She had discovered likable qualities in Henry during his visit this time.
And he did seem to be earnest in his attentions towards Alethea. Yet… Why did that thought make something heavy tumble through her, it should not make her feel melancholy.
She smiled at her mother, trying to hide the heavy feeling which had settled in her chest.
When they walked into the drawing room, Henry stood up, “Susan,” and he actually walked across the room to take her hand and kiss it gently. He did not use his right hand, though.
“Is your shoulder still sore from dancing too much?”
He smiled slightly, and his eyes glittered. “It is yes.”
“You are not driving yourself, I—”
“No. Have no fear. I am travelling in my father’s carriage.”
“You must not race your curricle until your shoulder is fully healed.”
“I thought you did not like me to race it at all…”
“Henry…” Alethea clasped his upper arm. He winced as he let go of Susan’s hand. Susan’s gaze passed to her sister.
“Shall we go through to luncheon?” Alethea encouraged.
Susan stepped aside, so they might walk on ahead and then she walked behind them with her father, who had an expression of proud approval in his eyes, and she presumed the same emotion moved his lips, as the tips of his waxed moustache quivered.
Susan’s fingers wrapped about her father’s arm as she smiled too. It seemed there was hope for Alethea’s happiness and perhaps Henry was growing up.
Alethea talked constantly to Henry as they sat beside each other at the table, yet their father continually broke into Alethea’s and Henry’s tête-à-tête to ask a question of Henry and a number of times Henry looked at Susan and brought her into the conversation with a comment. That was something he would not have done before, their relationship had changed during his visit home this time. They had learned to understand each other, not simply tolerate one another.
Each time he spoke to Susan it made her smile. He was making an effort to be kind to her—denying his natural leaning towards selfishness. Yet it was not selfishness really, merely that he had always been carelessly self-centered, never taking the time to look beyond his own interests and desires.
When he left he said goodbye to Susan’s father first, shaking his hand, then her mother hugged him firmly and he kissed her mother’s cheek. Next he took both of Alethea’s hands and leant and kissed her cheek. The colour in Alethea’s cheeks lifted to a pale pink.
Then Henry turned to Susan. “Goodbye.” He held out his hand, waiting for hers to be placed within it. It was not a gesture that was common between them. When she set her hand in his he bowed over it. Even the way he touched people had a particular charm, it captured all her senses. But then of course, even though he had put his gloves back on, she was without gloves, and so the sensations were stronger.
“Goodbye.” Her response came out on a breath, with a powerless sound.
“We shall dance and spar again in London, I am sure,” he whispered with a smile.
She smiled too as he let go of her hand.
He turned to Alethea again. “Will you walk outside with me?”
She took his right arm, and the two of them walked out of the door, to the carriage.
“Let us leave them to have a moment’s privacy.” Susan’s father stated turning away to return to his study and his business.
“Come along.” Susan’s mother wrapped an arm about Susan’s. “Shall we walk outside in the rear garden and discover what new flowers have begun to bud.”
Susan pulled her arm free. “I left my shawl in the drawing room. I’ll need it. I’ll just fetch it.” She hurried away, in a manner that was more like her mother’s and Alethea’s.
But within the drawing room Susan did not go to the sofa to collect her shawl, but walked to the window. It was as though she felt the pull of empathy, and yet it could not be empathy, he was healed. Her fingers lifted and touched the glass as she looked at the carriage in the driveway. Henry was holding both of Alethea’s hands and speaking with an earnest expression, while Alethea looked at him her eyes wide, expressing her happiness.
He leant then and kissed her lips, just for an instant.
Was that their first kiss? If it was then perhaps Alethea would speak of it later, but Susan would not admit she’d watched, she should not be watching.
They held hands for a few moments more, then Henry climbed into the carriage. Alethea remained on the drive watching and waving as it drew away.
Susan imagined Henry waving his goodbye from within.
He’d said during luncheon, when she had asked about Samson, that Uncle Robert had told him Samson’s habit was to lay in the hall for weeks after Henry had left, hoping for his return. The poor dog may have months to wait.
She would see Henry again in six weeks, at the ball their mother was organising in London. Six weeks seemed a long time away too.
Chapter Nine
Susan looked out of the window at the grand houses lining the street. She had been to her parents’ home in London before, but this year was different. This year they were to take part in the season.
“I told Henry we are arriving today. I said in my letter I wished him to call upon us. I hope he calls…”
Henry had written to Alethea weekly since returning to town. He had changed his ways and begun acting with some responsibility, and thought for Alethea. His intent and commitment to pursue their engagement had become clear.
But Susan was looking forward to seeing him too. Alethea had shared stories from his letters and Susan had not been able to forget the amusing Henry whom she’d danced and talked with when he’d come home last. She had been officially charmed and would now shamefully even admit herself to be a member of the Henry Marlow Appreciation Society.
She smiled to herself as she continued to look out of the window.
There was one small issue, though, she was not certain if it was really his dancing and conversation that had charmed her, or if, in fact, seeing his injuries when he had been half naked had swayed her, and watching him sleep in his shirt and trousers within a room with the door shut. He had looked so vulnerable then. The sense of empathy she’d known in that moment still hovered inside her. She could not forget how he’d looked when he’d been suffering.
The carriage rocked and creaked as it rolled over the cobbles, and from outside there were the noises of the horses, other carriages and people.
When they arrived before their town house, her father climbed out first and then lifted a hand to help her mother out, then Alethea, and then with a smile he held his hand out to help Susan. She smiled at him. The tips of his waxed moustache lifted higher. Excitement skipped through Susan’s senses as her heart pumped hard in her chest, she was looking forward to the balls, but she was looking forward to visiting museums and galleries too. Alethea had promised to accompany her on some explorations. They had not been to town for two years.
Henry arrived at the house at four. Two hours after they had arrived. Susan leaned over the bannister and looked down as Alethea hurried down the stairs into the hall. He’d come with his cousin, Harry, who was an officer in the army. Harry was dressed in his scarlet regimentals. Henry was in black and grey.
Henry gripped Alethea’s hands and then kissed each one.
Susan walked downstairs more sedately than her sister. Her mother and f
ather were in the hall too.
Harry had stepped forward to take one of Alethea’s hands and was bowing over it. Henry looked up. His gaze immediately caught on Susan’s and clung to it as she walked down.
She smiled.
He smiled in return and the emotion lit up his eyes.
Yes, she had joined the Henry Marlow Appreciation Society. Yet there was no need for him to know it.
When Harry let go of Alethea’s hand, Susan looked at him. He looked very smart in his uniform. She had not seen him since he’d become an officer. But he was the son of Uncle Robert’s brother, her like-an-uncle Uncle Edward. Like Henry, Harry had been brought up so close to them it had felt as though he was their cousin. “Hello, Harry, I have not seen you for an age.” As she stepped off the bottom stair and held her hands out towards him. Harry came forward.
She sensed Henry still watching her but she did not turn to look.
Harry kissed the backs of her fingers. His lips were warm and her hands cold.
Susan remembered the kiss Henry had given Alethea when they’d last seen each other, and wondered how warm a man’s lips would feel against hers.
Harry smiled heartily at her, he had always been an easy, jovial companion, if perhaps a little wild, very much like Henry, except less self-centered. “How are you, Susan?”
“Very well thank you, and you? How do you like the life of a soldier?”
“It is nothing but revelry.”
“You are entirely suited to it then.”
She glanced at Henry. He was still watching her. “Hello, Henry.” Her voice was cheery but dismissive, cooled by a sudden awkward feeling. The memory of her feeling of empathy was no longer within her, instead it was as though her insides had been hollowed out. Henry was no longer ill, he was healthy and virile and smiling at her in a way he’d never done before. It bore a resemblance to the way he smiled at Alethea.
Harry let her hands slip free from his. She bobbed the slightest of curtsies in Henry’s direction, avoiding moving closer and offering her hand. She could not bear for him to touch her at that moment; the hollow feeling had made her stomach queasy in a disconcerting way. If he touched her, she might vomit.
“Shall we go into the drawing room and take tea,” her mother invited.
“Susan,” Harry offered his arm.
She took it willingly and gripped it gently. They walked ahead of the others. “Have you been wicked of late or has becoming a soldier dulled you?”
He laughed. “Not at all, I am still very capable of wickedness, but I suppose nothing has livened you up either. I would wager you still have your head buried in books most of the day, and I suppose you have not come to London for the entertainments but to discover what might be learned. Well I have a sennight’s leave so I shall offer myself up as an escort if you wish, to ensure you are pleased with your visit to town. What about the new Victoria and Albert Museum, have you been there? Or would you care to go?”
She looked at him. “I have not been and I’d love to go, Harry, thank you.”
“We should go as a four.” Henry said behind them.
Susan glanced back at Alethea, museums and galleries were not her favourite places and yet she had promised to accompany Susan.
Alethea smiled at Susan, then looked at Henry. “That is a wonderful idea.”
Of course his presence would mean that Alethea need not look at the artefacts or the art work but focus on charming Henry.
Susan sent Henry a quick smile, then looked at Harry again as they walked on. He began educating her on what she should expect of her visit to town.
Perhaps the balls would be more fun than she had expected, with Harry to play escort, and he had numerous cousins on his mother’s side whom she knew to various degrees, and so she might even have enough partners to keep her dancing.
When they sat in the drawing room, drinking tea, Alethea talked with Henry and occasionally threw a teasing comment at Harry. But mostly their conversations remained separate, except that every time Susan looked at Alethea and Henry, Henry always happened to be watching her and caught her looking. On occasions his lips quirked up at the corner, yet at other times he merely looked back at Alethea.
“We should leave.” Henry stated after almost an hour, and rose. “I would not wish to outstay our welcome.”
“You are welcome to stay for as long as you wish,” Alethea answered standing too.
Henry gave her a warm, charming smile. “I must go, though, Harry and I are due to meet others at our club.”
He arranged to take Alethea out driving in his curricle the following day, and then Harry suggested that the day after should be for their excursion to the Victoria and Albert Museum.
“Yes, let’s,” Susan gripped Harry’s hand as it lay on the sofa beside hers, his hand turned over beneath hers and squeezed her fingers for a moment.
“But that will be the morning after Mama’s ball and I shall be too tired to do the outing justice,” Alethea complained.
Susan’s head turned to look at her sister, but instead her gaze caught on Henry. He was looking at hers and Harry’s joined hands. He looked up. She slipped her hand free of Harry’s.
“Then the next day,” Harry said.
“Yes, if you wish,” Alethea agreed.
Susan turned sideways on the sofa to face Harry, so she would not be inclined to look at Henry. “I shall look forward to it more than the ball.”
“I thought you might like the idea, book-head.”
She smiled as Harry stood, and then she stood too.
Alethea wrapped her arms about Henry’s neck and kissed his cheek. It was a forward gesture but they were to be engaged. Henry pressed a kiss on Alethea’s cheek in return.
Susan looked at Harry.
He held her hand and bowed over it. “Thank you for your pleasant company and conversation, Susan.”
“I might say the same.” She gave him a bright smile.
“May I claim the first dance at your mother’s ball?”
“Oh, do. Then I will know I shall not be left to stand awkwardly at the edge of the room at least for the first dance. I know no one in town but you, your family and father’s and mother’s friends.”
“Then I promise I will ensure you are not left to stand awkwardly at the edge of the room for the entire night, as you know the Pembroke family are a horde and I know many people in town. I shall shower you with introductions.”
“Thank you.” She wished to embrace him. It was a long time since she had seen Harry, and she had forgotten how nice he could be. His mother and father did not live near hers, and so she had not seen Harry’s family as much as Uncle Robert’s and Aunt Jane’s.
“Susan.” Henry stood beside her, he’d come across the room to take his leave of her.
Harry turned to Alethea as Henry took Susan’s hand. How could his grip be so firm and yet so poignantly gentle? He bowed and lifted the back of her fingers to his lips. “It is a pleasure seeing you again. May I have the second dance tomorrow evening, before Harry introduces you to half of London? I am to dance the first and the supper dance with Alethea.”
Susan bobbed a very slight curtsy. “Why thank you, my Lord, I graciously accept.”
A smile broke his lips apart then he laughed uncertainly. “I shall look forward to it, Susan.” He let her hand go and bowed again, then turned to Harry. “Come on.”
They strode from the room, talking to each other in low voices, the aura of virile energy surrounding them left the room too. Susan felt drawn to follow them out, the empathy she’d known for Henry before had become a magnetic pull. Instead she looked at Alethea.
“He came, just as he promised.” She smiled.
Yes, it seemed Henry had turned over a new leaf in his behaviour towards Alethea at least.
Susan and Alethea sat down once more, and began discussing the preparations for the ball.
An odd sensation sent Susan’s heartbeat skipping into a faster rhythm. Her spirits had never bee
n so keen for the date of a ball to come, but she refused to heed the words inside her that attributed it to Henry’s offer to dance with her again. She would not accept that she had become that far absorbed into the Henry Marlow Appreciation Society. It was not, it was because she would be able to dance in her parents’ grand ballroom.
~
Henry flicked the straps and set his horses off into a trot. Harry leaned back against the seat of Henry’s racing curricle, and lay an arm along the seatback behind Henry.
Harry had been at Henry’s father’s house, with his parents, when Henry had called there before calling on the Forths. When Henry had said where he was going next, Harry had invited himself along, declaring that he’d not seen Lord Forth’s girls for an age. Of course that was not surprising because they had not come to London, but remained in Yorkshire as Alethea had been relying on a promise from him.
Henry flicked the straps again and lifted the horses’ pace into a canter along a clear stretch of the street. He could not get an image of Susan out of his head, it had been the moment she’d come downstairs. He’d looked up and caught her gaze. He’d forgotten just how striking her eyes were when she wore a darker blue than Alethea. The sight had struck him in the middle of his chest, not just in his gut and his groin. Damn. It was a strange feeling.
The image of her gripping Harry’s hand as they’d talked cut through his thoughts. He glanced at his cousin, as he returned the horses to a trot when they neared a crossroads. “Do you like Susan?”
“Of course, they are pleasant girls.”
“No I mean do you like Susan? Is there an attraction there?”
Harry’s arm slipped free from the back of the seat and he sat forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he stared at Henry. “If you are asking me, am I considering matrimony as you are? Then the answer is a firm bloody, no. Of course not. What would I want with a wife? I am more than happy as I am. I would much rather be me, than you. I was merely being friendly towards Susan because I like her, nothing more. Why? You are not her brother-in-law yet?”