Page 20 of Pursued Beyond Treachery (Harrowed Hearts #2)

S usannah paced from the hearth of the east sitting room and back to the door, careful not to muss her dress.

Lady Stanford had declared herself well enough to attend Lady Lincolnhurst’s soiree after all, and no amount of argument from Sir Nathaniel could convince her otherwise.

That meant that Susannah would again be forced to watch her cousin’s obvious ploys to gain John’s attention.

Miss Guthrie had practically snuggled up to him on the settee, fluttering her lashes and extolling her many virtues. It was positively disgusting.

Susannah had entered, excited to tell Lady Stanford of her diverting ride with Mr. Wallace and his sister and the comical way her bonnet had been snatched off by a low-hanging tree branch, only to find John’s stern disapproval.

He’d whisked it away behind a mask of boredom, but she had not been fooled.

She owed him an apology, but they’d been in company. And the last people she’d ever want to admit fault in front of were her aunt and cousins. While her aunt put up a front of familial felicity, she knew better.

When they passed each other in public, the woman never acknowledged her unless she happened to be with someone of consequence.

At the opera, Miss Harris had even heard Aunt Guthrie telling a gentleman that Susannah had no dowry to speak of.

It was no wonder she’d had no interest from gentlemen these last few days, other than Mr. Wallace.

But as soon as she was in the company of someone with which her aunt wished to converse, she suddenly became her dear niece. The hypocrisy boggled Susannah’s mind, but propriety dictated she not cause offence in public, so she’d remained silent.

“Are you ready?” Lady Stanford asked from the door, interrupting her churning thoughts.

She stopped pacing and followed her into the vestibule. “I am. Where are Sir Nathaniel and Mr. Kendall?”

“Here,” Mr. Kendall said, stepping out of the very parlor she’d just exited. “We’ve been waiting nigh on an hour for you both to finish prettying up.”

“Liar,” Lady Stanford said with a smirk. “You went down the back steps and came through the sliding door from the music room.”

Sir Nathaniel descended the steps. “I told you she’d never fall for it.”

Eddie chuckled. “Fine. I may have only arrived a minute or two before Mel, but I was here first.”

“Again with the lies.” Lady Stanford gave his ear a tweak.

“Ow!”

“You forget I can see into that entire room from the door. Besides, Miss Wayland only exited no more than a minute before you.” She turned to Susannah. “Tell me Miss Wayland, was my brother waiting with you?”

Mr. Kendall cast her a look of pleading, his eyes growing droopy like a puppy begging for a treat.

She giggled, and Lady Stanford turned back to witness her brother's expression. “Oh, no you don’t.” She reached for his ear.

He skittered out of her reach, holding a hand over said ear. “I may not have been the first downstairs but at least I shall be the first to the carriage.” Hat in hand, he escaped out the door.

Susannah laughed at the good-natured teasing between the siblings. It warmed her heart but also left it longing for her own brothers and sister.

Already Amanda had sent three letters begging her to find a husband quickly and quit London so she might return home. Finding the idea both humorous and heartbreaking, she’d not known what to write in return.

If she married, she would never return home to live. Her new position might even move her far away from them—unless she married John.

Why did everything circle back to John? If only she had a sizable dowry and as flattering a figure as her cousin. Maybe then he’d find her appealing. He certainly had not complained every time Miss Guthrie placed her hand on his arm or sat so close she might as well have been in his lap.

“Are you well?” Lady Stanford asked as they made their way to the carriage.

“I am, why do you ask?”

“You looked like you wished to gouge someone’s eyes out.”

A surprised laugh bubbled out of her. “My face has a mind of its own apparently.”

“Or your mind has more control than you’d like.” Lady Stanford’s blue eyes bore into hers. She lowered her voice. “You can tell me, Susannah. I will not divulge anything to anyone.”

It would be nice to share her burdens, but they were just that—her burdens.

Sharing only added to others’ troubles and Lady Stanford had plenty of her own.

No, she needed to be the strong one, like she always had been.

Her family depended on her, if not to raise them financially, then to be the solid dependable one they could count on.

“I have no complaints; I am simply excited for the night and a little upset at my sister’s letters.”

Lady Stanford tipped her head slightly to the side. “Is she still begging you to return?”

“She is.”

“Poor girl.”

The ride to the Lincolnhurst townhouse was filled with lively banter and suppositions. Sir Nathaniel surmised that the countess only held this event to pressure her son, Lord Hamdon, into taking a wife, but Mr. Kendall insisted the woman hosted a great deal of parties with or without the incentive.

A pristinely dressed footman with a fine face and figure opened the door to the carriage when they arrived. To Susannah’s delight, Miss Harris’s carriage stopped behind theirs and the woman exited after her mother and father, two younger sisters on her heels.

“My, but you must have been crowded,” Lady Stanford said softly to Miss Harris when she joined them.

“Yes. I cannot wait until Jenica’s baronet takes her off, for then we might all fit nicely again.”

Mr. Kendall sidled up to her. “Or you might consider marrying. Then you’d have your own carriage.”

“Are you offering?” Miss Harris snickered at the look of horror on his face.

“I am not old enough for such an endeavor.”

“But are you not the same age as Sir Nathaniel?” Susannah asked.

“No, thank heavens. I am a full half year younger.”

The impish smile he cast her broke through her resolve not to laugh. Her hand flew to her mouth to cover the sound and she glanced around to see if anyone of importance had taken note. Too busy with their own arrivals, the other guests seemed not to notice.

After greeting the hostess and her dashing son, they made their way into one of the many rooms set aside for guests. A woman at the pianoforte played soft music as guests mingled or partook of the refreshments.

Susannah kept watch for John as she was again introduced to people whose names she was certain to forget, and finally she was rewarded for her vigil. Short-cropped yellow hair appeared above the crowd.

When the gathering parted, however, she found John with Miss Wallace on one arm and Miss Guthrie on the other.

To his credit, he appeared as if he’d like to hide under the furniture until there were no more people present, but the sight of so much attention being lavished on him nipped at Susannah’s heart. Would she be afforded a single moment alone with him to offer her apology?

“Miss Wayland,” a familiar masculine voice said. She turned to see the smiling face of Mr. Wallace. “Such a delight to see you again. Might I procure you some refreshment?”

“I—” She glanced at John, his focus taken up with the two pretty women who seemed to be vying for his attention. “Yes, refreshment would be nice.”

Mr. Wallace disappeared for only a few moments then returned with tea and tarts. “Might we find a seat?” He gestured to a pair of unoccupied chairs.

She cast Lady Stanford a glance. Already in conversation with two older women, she gave her an encouraging nod.

“I would like that very much,” she finally assented.

When they reached the spot, her eyes landed on her aunt who happened to occupy the seat across from them.

“Good evening Mr. Wallace,” her aunt cooed. “Such a pleasure to see you here. I see you have found my dear niece.”

Mr. Wallace looked between them. “Mrs. Guthrie is your aunt?”

She acknowledged the relationship.

“Really. How delightful? I am not sure if you know, but I have been acquainted with the Guthries for quite some time.”

“Three years at least.” Aunt Guthrie cast him a fond smile.

To Susannah’s surprise, the expression seemed genuine. How irregular. Usually her aunt’s expressions held a bit of artifice.

Her aunt continued on. “Miss Wayland is the eldest daughter of my brother. We quite adore her and try to help where we can. It is the least we can do, considering her family's situation.”

“Oh?” Mr. Wallace glanced at Susannah and then leaned toward her aunt.

Aunt Guthrie lifted her chin, her eyes flashing. “Yes, but one does not speak of financial difficulties at a gathering such as this.”

And there was the barb Susannah had expected, given in the sweetest tone with the most innocent expression, but with every bit of intent to injure.

Her aunt quickly changed the subject. “How is your family, Mr. Wallace?”

Susannah listened to their conversation for only a moment before her mind wandered. If Aunt Guthrie disliked her so much, why the act? There were plenty of families who lived separate and indifferent lives; something their two families had done for years. Why the false kindness now?

“Oh, look Miss Wallace, we have found your brother.”

Miss Guthrie’s voice pulled Susannah from her woolgathering. John and his two ladies stopped next to them.

Miss Wallace nodded to them before casting Miss Guthrie a tight smile. “Also your mother. Perhaps you would like to take a rest while Lord Newhurst and I take another turn about the room.”

“No thank you, Miss Wallace. But you are welcome to retrieve some refreshment since you were complaining of a parched throat a few moments ago. Maybe your brother could escort you?”

John’s attention bounced between the two ladies, his already confused expression growing more distressed by the minute. The man looked like he did not know what to do with himself as the two ladies continued to give excuses of why the other should leave their little grouping.