Page 34 of Pursued Beyond Treachery (Harrowed Hearts #2)

S usannah woke with a start, blinking into the dark room. Confusion enveloped her. What time was it? Why had she woken so early? She probed around her eyes. Why were they so puffy?

Then it all came rushing back to her.

The ball. Those glorious minutes on the balcony. Then John’s anger.

Would he leave her to suffer her fate alone?

She would not blame him if he did. After she’d practically forced herself on him, why should he carry the consequences?

But, oh, how wonderful it had been when she’d not only seen but felt his love in his kisses.

Mr. Wallace and all her fears for the future had been forgotten for that one moment, that brief space of time.

Time. It always came back to that measurement of life.

Over the last year she’d learned just how much could change in a single moment. Losing her mother, gaining a season, realizing John’s love, and then losing it had all been brief glimmers in the grand scheme of life. But they had changed everything.

She sat up in bed. It was time to face each of those moments.

Last night Miss Harris had stroked her hair and promised her that all would be well and Melior had tucked her in as she’d blubbered out all her troubles. She’d laid every burden down at their feet and Lady Upton had listened from a nearby chair.

Her fear of disappointing her family and adding to their financial burden, her aunt’s threats and the worry that she’d carry through with them, even her concern that John would never be able to forgive her for forcing him into a marriage—that if he married her, he’d grow to hate her so much that he’d banish her to one of his other estates.

The last thing she remembered was Melior promising that she’d feel better in the morning, to forget her troubles, and rest. Her soothing alto voice had lulled her to sleep.

If only she could feel that peace now.

Half an hour later, a little maid crept in to stir her fire and Susannah sat up. The maid let out a squeak of surprise.

“Sorry, miss. I’m only here to fix your fire. I’d not meant to wake you.”

“It’s not your fault. I was already awake.”

“I see. Can I get you anything?”

“I know it is early, but is there someone who might be available to help me dress?”

“Yes, miss. Lady Stanford’s maid is already up and breaking her fast. I’ll send her up.”

“Thank you.”

True to her word, the maid finished the fire and had Baylor up to help Susannah in less than ten minutes. However, after dressing in her morning gown and sitting for her hair to be styled, Susannah wondered what to do next. It was not even seven in the morning.

Baylor straightened the dressing table in front of her.

“Is it too early for a breakfast tray?”

“No, miss. What would you like?”

“Some toast and an egg would be nice.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Tea, please.”

At a quarter past seven, the tray arrived and Susannah nibbled on toast as her mind continued to spit out scenarios of doom. Eventually she gave up on breakfast, her stomach churning too much to swallow another bite.

A light knock sounded on her door and she answered it.

“A visitor to see you, miss,” the housekeeper said.

Susannah glanced at the clock. Eight o’clock. “At this hour?”

“Yes. Do you want me to send her away?”

Fear crept up her spine. Had her aunt come to fulfill her promises? She could not ruin her much more than she already was, so only her father’s debts hung in the balance.

“W-who is it?”

“Miss Martha Guthrie.”

Miss Martha? “Anyone else?”

“No, miss.”

That her cousin had come to see her this early in the morning intrigued her. “I will come.”

Carefully she shut the door behind her and followed the housekeeper to a small morning room. Inside she found Martha at a window, wringing her hands together. The young woman’s head whipped around the moment she entered.

“Miss Martha, what a surprise,” Susannah said.

She smiled at the greeting. “You can drop the miss, we are cousins after all.”

Susannah nodded and gestured to the sofa. “It is a bit early for tea, but I can ring for some if you wish.”

“No, thank you. I came this morning on a matter of urgent business. Is it true that you are to marry Lord Newhurst?”

“I… that is…” He had not declared himself to her, but he had told the ladies last evening to consider the matter settled. Then a second thought struck. Had Martha been sent to ruin her life further? She’d never seemed a party to her mother’s schemes before.

“If so, I am happy for you.”

Susannah relaxed.

“I never did like how my mother treated you or any of your family. Do you remember when we were eight and you came to stay with us for a time?”

An easy smile bloomed on her face. “I do. It was my last visit.”

Martha leaned forward. “Why was it your last visit?”

“Because your mother told us it would be better if our mother died.”

The horror that crossed Martha’s face had been exactly how Susannah had felt as a girl of eight.

“That’s terrible. I knew my mother disliked yours, but to wish her dead? To even tell her children such a thing.”

“But why did she hate my mother? I know my parents’ marriage was not conventional, but is connection really the only reason she refused to mend the break?”

Martha’s eyes widened. “You do not know?”

She shook her head.

“When your father declared his intention to marry your mother, my mother was on her sixth season. She was desperate to marry a man of means, as they had grown up comfortable but not with the affluence some of her friends had. Lord Upton had begun to court her that season and she was certain she’d finally get the title she’d always desired.

But within days of your father’s announcement, Lord Upton stopped coming to visit and by the end of the season he had taken a wife.

She believes he ceased his attentions because of your mother.

Since then, she has not been able to stand the sight of your mother or the Harris family. ”

That explained her firm dislike of Javenia. “But your mother married nearly a year before my parents.”

“Yes, because your father wanted to be certain he had the means to support a family without the use of your mother’s large dowry. It was quite romantic, if you ask me. I wish some man would go to such lengths to show he loved me and not my money.”

Susannah blinked at her. “Money?”

“Yes, your grandfather placed a large dowry in hopes of luring a gentleman into an arrangement. My mother claims he was disappointed when he only got your father, a country gentleman, and not a knight or a baronet. Either way, she thought the action quite vulgar.”

“To place a large dowry on my mother? But it is a standard practice in the gentry.”

“I never said it made sense.” Martha smiled. “Most of my mother’s anger makes little sense. Even so, it is how she views life and why it was so important to her to ruin yours.”

“Mine? What have I done to her?”

“Nothing. I believe she only wanted to get revenge on you because of your mother. You look like her, you know. You are both very pretty.”

Susannah cupped the curls near her face. “Thank you.”

Silence settled between them; the tick of a clock the only sound in the room.

“I am confused. If my mother had a great dowry, what happened to it? Aunt Guthrie insisted my father had accrued enough debt to send him to prison. Even now, she is probably going to your father to have my father’s debts called in.”

Martha let out a short laugh. “It will not work.”

“What do you mean?”

“I came this morning because I overheard my father arguing with my mother last night. We had several late evening visitors that were quite enlightening.” She smirked. “As well as a threatening note.”

“From whom?”

“Your Lord Newhurst.”

Her Lord Newhurst? She liked the sound of it, but John was more to her liking. Her John.

“From what I could gather, my father is to meet with him this morning. It seems my mother paid to have Mr. Wallace ‘entertain you’ until Harriet convinced Lord Newhurst to marry her—among other things. Lady Braithwaite divulged other information, but I’d rather not speak of it.

Because of it, my father is removing us to the country and refuses to give Harriet another season.

It seems my sister knew what was afoot this whole time. ”

Susannah's heart tripped over itself, the information not quite sinking in. The realization that her family was free from Aunt Guthrie’s threats finally struck and she melted into her seat. Tears formed in her eyes, but she did not let them fall.

“Thank you. You have relieved my mind of a great burden.” Then Martha’s words caught up with her. “Paid Mr. Wallace?”

She nodded. “It must have been significant too, for my father blustered about how she could promise so much. I could not hear the amount through the door, but I would say it was probably in the thousands.”

Susannah’s mouth fell open. Her aunt must have harbored an inordinate amount of hatred to go to such lengths for revenge.

And Mr. Wallace… The compliments, the blatant stares, all a lie.

“Did Mr. Wallace ever intend to offer marriage?” she blurted out before she could think better of it.

“No.” Martha clasped her hands in her lap. “His intentions were not at all honorable. Harriet even complained about how he’d ruined everything by not compromising you before Lord Newhurst did.”

Susannah gasped.

“Sorry, I probably should not have repeated her words. Harriet and my mother are of like minds; she takes after her in more ways than one.”

“And you, do you agree?”

“No. I am my father’s daughter, as much as my mother detests it.

She never wanted to marry my father anyway, but he was the quickest way to cover her embarrassment after Lord Upton removed his attentions.

” Martha untangled her fingers and gazed at the window.

With a sigh, she said, “Some days I wish he was my only parent because now I am guilty by association.”

Susannah leaned forward and placed a hand over Martha’s. “It is not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“Society will not see it that way if any of this ever gets out.”

“Then we shall see that it does not. I am certain my uncle has enough sway that he can keep things quiet.”

Martha smiled. “Perhaps. Do you know, last evening was the first time I have ever heard him stand up to my mother? It was a thing to see... er… hear.” She dropped her head. “You must think me an awful person for eavesdropping.”

Susannah laughed. “Not at all. For once, I am grateful for a little bit of underhandedness.”

Martha covered Susannah’s hand where it still lay over hers.

“We were good friends as little girls. Can we not be again?”

Susannah placed her other hand over Martha’s so their hands intertwined. “I would like that very much.”