Page 20 of The Reckless Love of an Heir (The Marlow Family Secrets #4)

‘When you let a maid style your hair it looks…’ What?

Prettier? Every woman’s hair was prettier when it was styled for an evening affair.

More grown up… More… tempting… He longed to touch her nape, to clasp his fingers about that delicate curve and pull her lips to his.

‘I like your hair like that’ was the only thought he let himself voice.

‘Thank you.’ She gave him a little mocking curtsy.

He breathed in. He should not be thinking such things, Susan was Alethea’s sister. He was supposed to be establishing more responsible behaviour – and it was Susan’s charge of selfishness that had urged him to change.

Yet it was only instinct – it was simply the attraction a woman’s body wove about a man. Nothing more. It was what he must learn to overcome if he was to become a married man.

As he stood opposite Susan, awaiting the commencement of the dance, he recalled her leaning over her orchid paintings, focused on the task, and playing the pianoforte, lost in the music, and now…

When the dance began she smiled at him gleefully, enthusiastic and excited.

He smiled too, threw himself into the dance and lost himself in watching her.

Susan was a rare woman. There were not many who had such variety to their nature.

When the dance came to its end, William approached before they reached her parents. ‘Is it my turn at last? Are you free to dance with me, without my stepping on any man’s toes, Susan?’

She smiled at him. ‘You may claim the dance, William.’

Her fingers let go of Henry’s arm and when she walked away she threw him one of her ballroom smiles across her shoulder.

The absence of her hand on his arm left a strange sensation.

He turned and looked about, unsure what to do. He did not care to dance the next. A sense of bereavement caught at him. It was bizarre, yet he felt deserted, empty now Susan had gone. He swallowed, trying to clear the odd feelings.

Fred, another of his friends and Harry’s cousins, stood nearby. Henry collected a glass of champagne from the tray a passing footman held on the way, then joined his friend.

While they talked he watched Alethea and Susan dancing.

Alethea was always bright and jolly, there was nothing surprising in her manner, or the smiles she gave to her partners.

But Susan… She expressed a depth of vibrancy when she danced that was entirely abnormal for her nature.

She had hidden her true self for years. Either that or he had been blind.

Harry joined Henry and Fred as the dancing continued. ‘Susan is in fine spirits tonight,’ Harry said, smiling at Henry. ‘I did not know she could dance so well, nor smile so brightly. The girl is a charm. I do not remember her so when we were children.’

‘She was not so,’ Henry replied. ‘She hid in corners.’

‘She is not hiding any more,’ William jested as he joined them, having relinquished Susan to another partner.

They all looked at her then, watching her take her position in a new set.

Alethea was the eldest and the one they had all deemed prettiest for years, the one they all hovered near when the girls were with them, while Susan had backed away and eventually left the room.

‘I should dance with her too then. If we are to spend the night extolling Susan’s charms then I ought to experience them,’ Fred quipped, mocking them all. ‘If I am to waste an evening at this ball I might as well appreciate the scenery.’

‘You must,’ Harry answered. ‘She’s a good waltzer,’ Harry added with a laugh.

Discomfort twisted within Henry’s stomach. They had conversations over preferences when discussing whores. It was uncomfortable to hear them discuss Susan.

Henry felt responsible for both Forth girls, his instinct was to be as protective as he would be when Sarah made her debut.

Self-centred , Susan had accused. He was, but now his selfishness absorbed Alethea and her. Yet, careless… He did not feel careless any more.

When the supper dance came he claimed Alethea again, this time for a country dance, and he enjoyed the dance immensely.

When he led her in to dine she spoke of her other dancing partners, all excitement, but he sensed her jubilant descriptions were designed to spur his jealousy and probably a hastier proposal. She need not waste her breath, he would not bend on his desire to wait a year.

Susan had danced with Harry again, so they came to join Henry and Alethea, and therefore so did Fred, Greg and William.

They made up a jolly, flirtatious table. Alethea glowed in the company of so many young gentlemen all vying for attention. Susan, however, became more withdrawn, like her old self, and spoke mostly to Harry who sat beside her.

‘How is your flower painting progressing, Susan?’ Henry asked from across the table. ‘Did you master that book?’

She looked at him and blushed. She was not easy in company still, no matter that she enjoyed dancing. ‘My skill has improved. I am much better than I was. But I have not copied them all yet.’

‘What flowers? What book?’ Fred asked, leaning more towards her.

Susan began an explanation of her desire to be able to paint images in more detail. Now she had a subject she was comfortable with she conversed more easily, but then it was Alethea’s turn to be out of sorts.

Henry looked at her and began a private conversation about things they might do together while she was in town. She had always loved to be the centre of attention; perhaps that was why Susan had grown up in her shadow.

After they had eaten, when the dancing began, Henry stood to the side and watched the girls.

They danced four dances without sitting down.

He left his friends and walked about the edge of the ballroom, making his way towards Uncle Casper, Aunt Julie and his parents.

They had spent most of the night together.

‘Hello, son, how is your night progressing?’ His father gripped his shoulder.

‘Good,’ Henry answered, looking across the room as Susan skipped down the centre of a set with a partner he did not know. He could not dance with Alethea again, but he could dance with Susan once more.

‘I saw you taking supper with Alethea…’

‘Yes.’

‘She seems very happy…’

‘She is.’

‘She looks very pleased you encouraged her to come for the season…’

‘Yes.’

The dance came to its end .

‘Excuse me, Papa.’ He left his father and crossed the room to meet Susan, before another man might ask her.

‘May I have your hand as a partner for the next?’ he asked when he reached her. The notes of a waltz began.

‘Yes,’ she answered, before looking at another gentleman and smiling an apology, as though she had expected him to ask. The man walked away.

Henry held out his hand. She accepted it, and he lifted their hands into position, preparing to dance as her other hand rested on his shoulder and his settled at her back.

His thumb brushed the curve of her spine, and he looked into those silver eyes.

He’d always felt some level of attraction for Alethea…

but for Susan… he felt a desperate hunger.

Because I never looked at her properly until this spring. The excuse swept to the tongue of his mind’s voice.

But he ought not to feel anything like that for his future sister-in-law, he ought to feel what he had always felt – nothing.

He turned Susan in a spin, without saying a word, and yet he would swear there were words in her eyes, and probably words in his. He would never speak them, though.

Neither of them spoke through the entire dance, yet her gaze held his, looking into his eyes as though she sought an answer, while he stared at her with a sense of awe.

When the dance came to an end he breathed in and stepped out of a dream, breaking whatever spell surrounded them.

‘Will you take me back to my father? I think I will sit out the next. I am exhausted and thirsty.’ Her hands slipped from his shoulder and his hold as she stepped away from him.

He moved beside her, his hand lifting to hover behind her back when they began walking. ‘What would you prefer, lemonade or punch? I will fetch you a glass. ’

‘I would rather lemonade, but Alethea would welcome punch, I am sure.’

‘Yes.’ He brought his arm forward, offering her his forearm as they walked from the floor. She gripped it gently. Her touch did things to his innards it really ought not do.

He bowed to her slightly before he left her with their parents, then turned away and breathed deeply, trying to draw some sense into his head.

When he returned, Alethea was with her parents too, and so he and Alethea sat out the next dance together, talking.

He had invited Alethea to town to court her, not to develop an attraction for her sister. This emotion was the height of recklessness. When he was trying so hard to be responsible.

Alethea set her candle down beside the bed, slipped between the sheets and lay down facing Susan, resting her head on Susan’s pillow. ‘Who was your best dance partner?’

Susan took a breath. Henry . She could think of nothing but his eyes as they’d looked into hers while they’d waltzed. ‘Harry,’ she answered as Alethea turned to blow out the candle.

The scent of the burnt wick carried on the air when the room dropped into darkness.

‘Mine was Henry, which is good, I suppose…’ Alethea said.

‘He is a good dancer,’ Susan confirmed.

‘I saw he waltzed with you too.’

‘Yes.’ Susan was glad of the darkness that would hide the blush she knew would colour her skin.

‘He is being more thoughtful. He is being generous.’

‘Yes.’

‘And kind to you…’ The words were whispered into the dark .

‘Yes.’

‘I like him more than ever and I believe he is really trying, but I will not let him think he has won me. I wish him to be on his guard and fighting to win me. He owes me that.’

‘Yes.’

‘We are well suited. We laugh all the time. Yet I enjoyed the company of every man I danced with tonight, and it only proved to me how many men there are to be met in London, and I might laugh with any number of them.’

‘That is true, there are many nice men…’