Page 2 of The Reckless Love of an Heir (The Marlow Family Secrets #4)

‘He’s here! At Farnborough! Henry is home!’ Alethea turned to the footman. ‘Please have the grooms prepare the carriage.’ Then she looked back at their mother. ‘We must go. If he is in pain…’

‘If he is in pain he deserves to be in pain,’ Susan said quietly towards the book which lay open in her lap. She was sensitive of all wounded animals and concerned for those in need, but she did not waste her sympathies on young irresponsible men.

Alethea scowled at her.

She had not intended Alethea to hear.

‘How can you be so cruel? It was a terrible accident. He has been injured and you are wishing more harm on him.’

Susan set the book aside. ‘He was in an accident because he was driving his curricle foolishly. He only has himself to blame and it was only his arm that was injured. He is hardly in a state that requires extreme sympathy.’ And even if he were in a worse state, Susan would not feel in the least sympathetic as he brought it upon himself.

It was his family who ought to receive sympathy for having such a careless, reckless son who constantly treated their concern with no regard.

‘Then do not come to visit him with me. Stay here if you intend to be irritable and rude to him. I have not seen him for months. I will not have the moment ruined.’

Susan had no desire to see Henry. In her view he was a spoilt brat who had grown into a spoilt, insensitive, selfish man. She lifted her eyebrows so they arched above the rim of her spectacles, making an I-do-not-care expression at her sister.

‘Mama, will you come with me? I cannot go if you do not. Please?’

‘I cannot. I am busy. You two will have to settle this argument. Susan must accompany you. Your father will be returning in an hour and expect me to be here to receive Mr Dennison.’

Susan sighed and stood up. She was not to escape Henry’s odious presence then. ‘I am willing, if you wish me to join you.’ She was not cruel. She would not deprive her sister of his company when she had waited so long for his return. She was not selfish.

‘He will not thank me for bringing you when you are in this mood, but at least then I shall see him. Fetch your bonnet and cloak, I wish to go as soon as we may.’ Having cast her commands, Alethea turned to leave the room.

That Alethea was very well matched to her anticipated fiancé was not something Susan would say aloud. She did not wish to malign her sister and yet the comparison screamed at her at times.

Alethea stopped at the door. ‘Aunt Jane and Uncle Robert will most likely ask us to dine, Mama, and so I doubt we shall return until late. You do not mind?’

‘Of course not, but then you must take two footmen with you as well as the grooms; I will not have you accosted by highwaymen.’

‘We are only travelling to Uncle Robert’s. It is the neighbouring estate. We will hardly be accosted in the four miles along the highway.’

‘But it will be near dark and we know there are highwaymen in the area.’

‘And no one will know we intend to use that very small stretch of rarely travelled road at that hour.’ Susan picked up the gauntlet and tackled her mother’s fear.

‘I am sure highwaymen do not have psychic powers and they would not lay in wait with the potential hope of never seeing a single carriage pass. We will be safe. ’

Alethea smiled at Susan, with a look in her eyes that said, thank you , before she left the room.

Susan’s mother shook her head, but her lips twisted in a wry smile. ‘You always seem to have an answer for everything. Your sister should be more grateful.’

Susan did not mean to argue but if there was sense and reason to be spoken or a fact to be taken into account, she would say it, that was all.

She gave her mother an amused smile. ‘I shall go up to my room and fetch my things.’ She bobbed a very quick curtsy before turning to leave, to prepare for their arduous journey of a few moments.

‘Enjoy your day, dear! Give my regards to Jane and Robert!’ her mother called after her.

She did not mind visiting Farnborough really, she liked her aunt and uncle, and Sarah and Christine. And Uncle Robert’s huge library, which was three times the size of her father’s, was a strong persuader.

When she walked back down the shallow steps to the hall, Alethea awaited her.

‘There you are. Hurry!’

Susan smiled. She was as different to her sister as it was possible to be, both in looks and character, yet they were close.

Perhaps because she and Alethea only had each other – they did not have a large family like Henry’s, or his cousins’.

A child of a large family had the opportunity to choose their closest match from among their brothers and sisters.

Yet, the strength of the bond between Susan and Alethea might not exist in a large family.

Alathea was her best friend, her confidant and her very dearest, as well as only, sister.

A footman opened the door. Alethea walked out, at her usual hasty pace .

Alethea was forever in a hurry to experience and enjoy every single moment of life.

Susan preferred not to hurry, to dwell on things, to look at them slowly and study them in detail, not rush past. She had often stopped Alethea to point out a beautiful view or a wildflower, a butterfly or a bird in a tree.

There were so many things Alethea missed.

Susan smiled at the thought as she stepped off the last stair.

Alethea’s nature was not hers, but it was infectious. She did love her sister, no matter that they were so different. It was difficult to ignore Alethea’s enthusiasm.

Susan quickened her pace and hastened out of the door in pursuit.

Alethea was climbing the step into the carriage, her fingers clasping the hand of a footman.

A second footman stood on the plate at the back of the carriage holding the iron bar, and an additional groom sat beside the coachman on the box. Susan’s mother had instigated a larger escort for her precious daughters regardless.

Susan took the footman’s hand, climbed the step into the carriage and sat beside Alethea.

‘Do you think he will have changed?’ Alethea asked when the door shut.

The carriage jolted forward into motion and rocked as the footman who had helped them jumped onto the second perch at the rear.

‘It has been less than a year.’ Yet it had been nearly a year.

‘I know, but he writes of such larks in town, do you think he will think me dull now?’

‘He will not think you dull. No one we know has ever thought you dull.’ No one could accuse Alethea of that, she was constantly in motion or conversing.

‘But he has the women in London to compare me to and he describes London society as such an improvement on our quiet country life.’

‘He cannot dislike the idea of your company; the moment he is home he has sent for you.’

Alethea looked at Susan and bit her lip. It was a very slight gesture but Susan noticed the sign of self-consciousness and uncertainty. It was unlike Alethea.

‘He did not,’ Alethea clarified. ‘Sarah sent the letter. I asked her to.’

That redeemed him a little in Susan’s current ill-judgement, if he had not sent for Alethea to come and play nursemaid. ‘He will love you still,’ she reassured her. ‘Merely look at his expression when he sees you and it will show you.’

His brown eyes, the rich colour of sweet chestnuts at the moment their green pods split open, had always lit up with the warmth of an appreciative smile whenever he looked at Alethea.

Even when they’d been young, he’d thrown glinting looks at Alethea before challenging her to a race or the solving of a conundrum or the telling of the best joke.

Of course, Alethea had always been the prettiest and most vibrant one and Henry the handsomest and wildest. They were well matched.

Susan pressed the tip of her finger onto the bridge of her spectacles and slid them a little further up her nose.

Alethea had golden hair and eyes the colour of forget-me-nots.

She was often called a remarkable beauty in Susan’s hearing.

So why would Henry not admire her, no matter how pretty the women were in London?

Susan had never received the same accolade – people did not use the word beautiful to describe her mousey-brown hair and eyes that were steel-grey, not blue.

It was fortunate, really, that she was as unlike her sister in character as in looks, because if she had Alethea’s nature she would be jealous.

As it was, she was as much in awe of her sister’s beauty as others and she thanked heaven that neither jealousy nor vanity were emotions she was afflicted with.

She was quite content to be herself, the less amusing, less charming and less attractive sister.

Susan could stand in a room and very easily be invisible by simply not speaking, which meant if she did leave a room, no one noticed her slip away.

‘What should I say to him, when I see him?’

‘Hello, perhaps…?’

‘Do not tease me. Tell me. My stomach is all upside down. I wish it had not been so long. Do you think he will look different?’

Alethea’s questions and her stream of concerns continued as the carriage navigated the rutted road leading to the Barringtons’ estate.