Page 16 of The Reckless Love of an Heir (The Marlow Family Secrets #4)

‘Your eyes are very unusual. Has anyone told you that?’ It suddenly struck him.

They were very bright when they looked at him so directly, full of joy.

The grey was extremely pale, and in the light from the hundred or more candles burning in the chandeliers above them, her eyes had the quality of quick-silver.

Colour filled her cheeks. ‘Unusual… No… No one has said so. In w hat way?’ Her voice expressed doubt, as though she expected him to say something awful in answer.

He smiled. He did not know why he had said it; it was just the way she had looked at him for a moment and her deep blue dress made the pale grey such a contrast, and against her dark eyelashes…

He had never looked into her eyes so closely before, that was all.

‘They are a very light grey. It was a compliment.’

‘To call my eyes grey is not a compliment.’

He had never known a woman challenge a compliment before. ‘Your eyes are pretty, Susan.’

She seemed to have no answer then, but coloured up once more and looked beyond his shoulder.

His gaze fell to the little flicker of her pulse in her neck. He had embarrassed her again.

‘When do you return to town?’ she asked as they continued turning. Typical Susan, not sulking and waiting for him to resolve the discomfort he had created, but storming in to smash the ice away herself.

‘Tomorrow.’

She looked back at him. ‘Alethea will miss you.’

‘It is only a few weeks until the season, then she will come to London. She has chosen to avoid me for the last few days in any case.’

‘Not because she has not wished to see you. She is still a fully signed-up member of the Henry Marlow Appreciation Society.’

He stumbled in the turn and his arm lowered a little as the pain in his shoulder jarred. ‘The what?’

‘The Henry Marlow Appreciation Society,’ she said, with a teasing smile. ‘The group of people who are so thoroughly charmed by you they let you get away with anything you wish.’

‘We are back to the charge of me being self-centred then.’

Her smile agreed and continued to mock him .

‘Well, I have promised your sister I shall court her in London so you may watch me laying on the charm to her in spades and breaking every notion you have created about me. I shall establish a new society, the Alethea Forth Appreciation Society and prove to you I can be selfless when I wish.’

She laughed, in a carefree way he’d never heard before.

Dancing changed her. It broke her out of her shell, and what he had known was within her shone out.

When they had been in each other’s company as children she rarely laughed.

She had more often disappeared or squatted down to study some insect crawling through the grass.

When the waltz ended her hands slipped free from his and lifted from his shoulder.

His lingered at her back. ‘Shall we dance the next?’

‘I did not know you were so keen a dancer?’

‘I am keener to avoid the numerous introductions people want my father to make.’

‘You coward.’

‘How many of these people do you know?’

‘More than half,’ Susan replied as they followed others, crossing the room to form a set for a country dance. Susan glanced about her and smiled at a number of their companions.

‘How often do you come to these?’

‘Nearly every month.’

They stood looking at one another in silence, while others joined the line of their set.

Then the dance began. It was a dance that was stepped more than skipped, and Henry was glad it was not so energetic; the pain in his shoulder was increasing from an ache to bloody agony.

Consequently he did not lift it so high when they joined hands and made the first turn.

A frown line formed between her eyebrows. ‘Your shoulder is hurting…’ she whispered .

‘It is bearable.’

‘Why did you ask how regularly we come here?’

‘For no particular reason.’

‘Did you think Alethea sits at home while you entertain yourself in town?’

She was mocking his self-centred nature once more. He smiled as the dance separated them. No, he had not imagined Alethea sitting at home, he had never thought about what she was doing.

When the dance came to its conclusion, he offered his left arm to Susan, not his right, his shoulder ached too damn much.

Everyone turned to leave the floor, and the music did not progress.

She looked at him as she held his arm. Her touch stirred sensations in his stomach and below it; sensations his future sister-in-law ought not stir.

‘You ought not to dance any more, even if it means facing introductions.’

He knew that, but it pleased him she was concerned about his shoulder.

When he looked about the room everyone was walking from the floor towards the open doors at the end of the ballroom. ‘Where are they going?’

‘To supper. That was the supper dance.’

Oh, that meant he was obliged to join her for supper, but they could sit with Alethea. ‘Do you think Alethea will have saved us seats?’

There was another smile for him, of the ilk she had shared with Captain Morgan. ‘I am sure she will, if only to ensure you may watch her flirt with her last dance partner.’

‘I am to appreciate Captain Morgan’s company then.’ The man had retained Alethea’s hand for a second dance, as Henry had retained Susan’s. ‘But that will carry little weight if it is meant to prod my jealousy. He danced with you first, so you must be his preference.’

She had been looking forward; her head turned, her gaze spinning to him. Her eyes said she did not think herself capable of being anyone’s preference.

That was just foolish.

‘Alethea was already engaged to dance. I am her sister. He asked me for exactly the same reason you did, to be polite.’

That was not why Henry asked her.

‘Susan!’ Alethea called across the room. There were two empty seats at her table.

Susan released Henry’s arm.

‘Susan…’ Her mother tapped on the open door of Susan’s bedchamber. Susan was sitting on the window seat, reading. She looked up as her mother came in.

‘Henry has called to say his farewell.’

The book she held dropped against her knees. ‘He will not wish to see me.’

‘He has agreed to stay to luncheon, and you must come down. It would seem rude if you did not.’

And one day you will have to play supplicant and never anger him because he will be keeping you out of charity, as the spinster sister of his wife.

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 discovered likeable qualities in Henry during this visit and enjoyed dancing with him last night.

He was a good dancer, even with a weak arm, and he had been pleasant company.

He had taken her teasing with a solid chin and made her laugh.

Then during supper, he spoke to her as much as Alethea and Captain Morgan.

And he did seem to be sincere in his attentions towards Alethea. Yet… Why did that thought make something heavy tumble through her chest? It should not make her feel melancholy.

She smiled at her mother, hiding the unsettled feeling in her chest.

When they walked into the drawing room, Henry stood. ‘Susan.’ He actually walked across the room to take her hand and kiss it gently.

‘Is your shoulder still sore from dancing?’ she asked.

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 right arm. He winced as he let go of Susan’s hand.

‘Shall we go through to luncheon?’ Alethea said.

Susan stepped aside, so they might walk on ahead. She walked behind them with her father, who had an expression of proud approval in his eyes and in his smile. It seemed there was hope for Alethea’s happiness. Perhaps Henry was finally growing up.

Alethea talked constantly to Henry as they sat beside each other at the table.

Though their father continually broke into Alethea’s and Henry’s tête-à-tête to ask questions of Henry, and several times Henry brought Susan 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 selfish leanings. Yet it was not selfishness really, merely that he had always been carelessly self-centred, 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 cheek. Next he took both of Alethea’s hands and leaned 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 common gesture 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.

‘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 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 withdrew her arm. ‘I left my shawl in the drawing room. I will need it. I will just fetch it.’ She hurried away.

Within the drawing room, Susan did not immediately collect her shawl from the sofa, but walked to the window – pulled there by emotions.

Empathy? 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 intently, while Alethea looked at him her eyes wide, expressing her happiness.

He leaned 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 said during luncheon, when she asked whether Samson would miss him, that Uncle Robert told him Samson’s habit was to lie in the hall for weeks after Henry left, hoping for his return.

The poor dog may have months to wait. But she would see Henry again in six weeks. Six weeks seemed a long time away too.