Page 42 of The Reckless Love of an Heir (The Marlow Family Secrets #4)

Her mother was in conversation with one of Aunt Jane’s guests, trying to ease some of the pressure on Aunt Jane. Aunt Jane must feel as though she were sleepwalking. Losing William was unimaginable.

Alethea sat across the room speaking with Sarah, Christine and Uncle Edward’s and Aunt Ellen’s daughters. There was no seat near them for Susan to join them.

Quiet conversation developed around her. The fresh tea arrived. Susan stood silent and watching, awkwardness hovering over her like a hunting kestrel. This was the moment in the past she would have retreated to the library. But today was not a day to hide.

The sound of another carriage on the cobbles outside filtered through the windows.

No one turned to the door .

When the door opened, Henry walked in first. Longing ripped through her, a desire to rush across the room and hold him, as her heart beat only for him.

Her feet stepped towards him, moving of their own accord, but she stopped herself after two steps as his father, uncle and brothers followed him in, their expressions sullen.

She looked about the room; no one had noticed her unguarded response.

There was a chair free. She sat down, her hands clasping in her lap.

Henry circulated about the people in the room. His voice became the loudest.

Uncle Edward remained beside Uncle Robert and joined a quiet group, containing her father, Lord Sparks, John, Rob and Lord Wiltshire.

Susan longed to run. Henry had told her long ago that was her habit, and now she absolutely recognised it. She found it hard to find a place in groups this size – or perhaps any group of people, when there was nothing to do but talk.

For the rest of the afternoon, Susan remained quiet, hidden in plain sight, watching Henry.

He spoke to all of his parents’ guests, though he did not approach her.

She thought about the other day, when he held her hand.

If that was all the comfort she could give him, she longed to hold his hand again.

She had sacrificed his love, thinking that path would cause the least hurt.

But as she watched him, her decision felt cruel.

He did not look at her, and it was as though it were deliberate.

But as she had turned him away, what value was there for him in looking at her? It would be no comfort to him.

Most of the mourners left after an hour or two, yet Henry’s wider family, and Susan and her family, remained to eat dinner before leaving.

Henry escorted Sarah into dinner behind his father and mother. Percy accompanied Christine. Gerard and Stephen were not present.

Susan walked in beside her mother, without an escort. But it was a relaxed event, everyone mingled and sat where they wished, without formality.

Henry was seated at the far end of the table from Susan, so, she could neither see nor hear him.

Yet, Alethea was near him, and she could hear her sister speaking.

His mother stood to lead the women from the table as soon as the meal was over.

As though she longed for the day to end.

In the drawing room, Susan sought out her hiding position again.

When the men rejoined the women soon afterwards, Henry was among his friends, the cousins he associated with in town, including Harry. Of course, they were not jolly today.

Alethea stood and walked over to Henry. As far as Susan was aware, they had not spoken at the table, nor before that. She spoke hurriedly and tearfully, now.

Henry’s jaw stiffened; an outflow of emotion was not what he needed. He had been tense all day, and he finally looked more relaxed when he returned with his friends. Alethea had stolen that moment from him.

Since the spring. Susan had seen him change by small degrees, here, and in town, but today he appeared to have swung about to become the opposite of the self-centred man she had disliked so intensely.

A closed, distant, sombre look set a mask across his face as he held Alethea’s arm and led her to a corner where they stood alone.

Susan’s heart screamed with jealousy. She wanted to walk over and push Alethea away. For the first time she sought to join a conversation, standing with Christine and Mary, though all her awareness remained on Henry and Alethea.

Henry’s head slightly bowed as he took Alethea’s hand and spoke earnestly.

What were they talking about?

Susan’s heart ached at the memory of him speaking to her that way in London, with deep intent in his eyes.

She looked at Christine, trying to forget about Henry, and hoped her parents would say they were leaving soon.

Henry walked past her, his strides swift, and he left the room.

Susan looked at Alethea. Her lips were pursed, and she looked… angry… as she walked over to their mother. She whispered something in their mother’s ear that seemed to shock her. Then Alethea looked towards Susan.

Susan knew she was about to be beckoned. Whatever Henry had said to her, Susan did not want to know. She could not be Alethea’s confidant when the topic of secrecy was Henry.

‘Forgive me, I need the retiring room,’ Susan said to Christine and Mary then left them before Alethea might reach her, and she deliberately avoided Alethea’s path as she left the room.

A footman awaited orders in the hall. ‘Where is Lord Henry?’ she asked.

The footman pointed into another room. ‘Through the French doors, in the garden, Miss Forth.’

She walked on. If he had run, then she could run too.