Chapter 13
Thirteen
Ambrose relaxed into his seat at the table.
With the ladies gone, he felt a weight lifted.
Miss Colley was not a difficult dinner companion, but he had struggled to pay attention.
He was distracted with worries of William’s assesment and overly conscious that half the dinner table knew he was evaluating the ladies.
It felt as if Grace, William, and Susanna were all passing judgment on him and on Miss Colley.
When Miss Susanna had asked about Miss Colley’s love of novels, he had expected a knowing look and a flash of her dimple. He was disappointed when she studiously avoided his gaze, though he was sure the question was posed to tease him about his list. He did not understand the woman.
She had spent the dinner happily conversing with Mr. Scott.
Would she have behaved the same to Ambrose, or would she have been silent and cool like that afternoon?
And when had she learned about road building?
He had no notion she was interested in such things.
Although was it surprising when she had listened intently when he talked about architecture?
It was possible he was letting his memory of the girl interfere with understanding the woman.
The port was poured and the servants dismissed. All the gentlemen extended compliments to Henry for the vintage.
“It was a purchase of my father’s,” Henry said. He took a sip of his drink. “I do not intend to linger. Can’t leave the ladies alone on the first night.”
Ambrose held in a sigh, but his disappointment must have been visible, for Mr. Scott laughed.
“I think Mr. Hartley would prefer to dawdle.” Mr. Scott raised his glass. “What’s the matter, not up to wooing tonight?”
Ambrose scowled at William. What had his brother told his short friend?
William lifted his glass. “Don’t be angry, Rosie. I merely told him of my offer of assistance in charming the ladies.”
Mr. Scott chuckled. “A very generous offer.” He pointed at Ambrose. “You would do well to listen to your elder brother. He knows how to secure a lady’s heart.”
“Perhaps I do not wish to use his methods.” Ambrose turned to Henry. “I would much rather your counsel. For you are the only one of us that is married.”
Henry chuckled. “True, but it has been many years since I have thought of pleasing any woman that was not my wife.”
“Yes, yes, we all know you love our sister,” William said. “But even you will admit that you were at pains to appeal to her, that you put effort into securing her affections.”
“Naturally.”
“Well, and what were your methods?” William asked.
Henry’s brow furrowed. “Methods? I courted her as any man would. We danced, spoke often, and went on outings. I made my admiration clear, and in time she reciprocated. It was all quite ordinary.”
William scoffed. “You forget I witnessed some of your courtship. You had your little wiles. I saw how you found ways to whisper in her ear or took opportunities to hold her hand. I believe you once sprinted to our carriage to assist her instead of letting the footman do it. And you were always giving her little gifts and leaving notes with your card.”
Mr. Scott smiled at this speech.
Ambrose had not watched the courtships of either of his sisters.
He had been at school for Victoria’s courtship and on his Grand Tour for Grace’s.
It surprised him that William had been attentive enough to notice Henry’s actions.
He had always thought his older brother too involved in his own concerns.
Had William been observing Ambrose’s courtship efforts with the same scrutiny?
“Why, William, I never thought you so observant.” Henry raised his glass in a salute.
William raised his glass in return. “When it comes to protecting my sisters, I am always watchful.”
“Hear, hear,” Mr. Scott said.
“But”—Henry sat forward—“I would not call my actions ‘methods.’ Everything I did was born of a desire to be close to Grace or to make her happy.” He turned to Ambrose. “If you are courting a woman in earnest, that is what I recommend.”
“I thank you. I will take it under advisement.” Ambrose finished his drink.
“That will not work for Rosie.” William shook his head. “These women must be made love to. I fear I must demonstrate the effectiveness of my techniques.”
“Oh, a capital idea,” Mr. Scott said. “And which lady will you woo tonight?”
“William,” Ambrose said in warning.
“Do not fret. I will not interfere with your prospects. I am sure Miss Susie will do perfectly well for my purposes.” William put down his glass with more force than necessary and stood.
Ambrose quickly joined him, his blood heated. “No, I will not allow it.”
But his brother was not listening, he was already making for the door. Ambrose had half a mind to chase after him but knew it would do no good and only serve to alert the ladies to their argument.
“Don’t worry,” Mr. Scott said as he stood. “The lady will not mind in the least. They never do.” He chuckled as he left the room.
His reassurances did not alleviate Ambrose’s feelings. If anything, the idea that Miss Susanna might be wishing for William’s advances made it all worse. His brother should not trifle with any lady but especially not Susanna. She was practically his sister! Not to mention she once fancied him.
There was bound to be some contention, some broken heart or broken promises, and that would never do. Ambrose would not let his brother impose on Miss Fenton.
He turned to Henry, who had also risen from his seat.
“You can’t let him make a fool of her,” Ambrose said.
Henry’s lip curled. “She can handle William. And she has never taken offense to his flirtations.” Henry patted Ambrose’s shoulder before following the others out of the room.
Ambrose had no reply. Why was he the only one alarmed by William’s declaration to charm her? He had no answer, he only knew that he wished to put a stop to what his brother was planning.
Already behind, Ambrose rushed to the door. The others were no longer in the hall. He moved quickly, but as he passed before the stairs he noticed movement.
He paused.
Miss Susanna was coming down the stairs.
Smiling at his good fortune, Ambrose waited for her.
She did not notice him; her attention was on a small book in her hands, her expression contemplative.
Despite her distraction, her step was lively, her golden curls bouncing.
As she approached, he could not help but notice that her pink dress complemented her slightly tan coloring and accentuated her pleasing figure.
Was it any wonder William wished to charm her?
Suddenly it felt impolite to be staring when she was unaware. She was still several steps above him when he spoke. “Is that Mr. McAdam’s book?”
She startled and then stumbled and fell forward. Instinctively he reached out to steady her. His hands came to her waist while her right hand fell on his shoulder. Her momentum pressed her close to him. He pivoted, swinging her off the steps and safely to the floor.
“Apologies,” he murmured as he released her.
She did not step back but looked up at him as if he had done something miraculous. In this light, her eyes appeared more green than brown. He blinked as heat rose in his chest. The silence was unbearable.
“Perhaps you should drink less wine,” he said awkwardly.
She frowned, and hurt flashed in her countenance. “I’m not drunk.”
She stepped back and spun around to the stairs to retrieve her dropped book.
He shook his head, internally berating himself for the stupid comment. “Yes, of course, you are not. I was only—”
“You surprised me,” she said as she turned back to face him. “Are you trying to imitate William’s antics at the grotto?”
“No! I would never copy him. I only said—it is not my fault you were engrossed in your thoughts.”
“A bold statement when you do not know my thoughts.”
She began to cross the hall. He followed.
Ambrose had never known her to be petulant and did not know exactly what to say to appease her. How was it his fault that she was not paying attention? She clutched the book to her chest like a shield. Perhaps he should extend a general apology and be done.
“Miss Susanna, I am sorry to have vexed you. I assure you it was not my intention. Indeed, if any of my recent actions or words have offended you, I humbly apologize.”
She paused and turned back toward him.
“Oh.” Her cheeks grew pink. “I . . . thank you.” She looked down at the book and then smiled up at him.
His heart lifted. He hoped he was truly forgiven. Her coldness was most unnatural.
“It is Mr. McAdam’s,” she said and offered the book to him “I thought you might wish to read it.”
“I very much wish to read it.” He reached for it and then hesitated. “Grace is sure to lecture me if I spend the first night with my nose in a book.”
She laughed louder than the jest warranted. “What will she say if I read it?” Her dimple flashed.
“She might say nothing, but William will certainly object.” He smiled at the thought of the vibrant Miss Susanna reading her book while steadfastly ignoring William’s attempts at flirting.
“Why would your brother care if I read?” She cocked her head.
“Because he is intent on giving me a lesson on how to charm a woman and has chosen you to exhibit his methods.”
“Has he indeed?”
Her expression was inscrutable; he could not tell if she was pleased or offended by the information.
“I objected, but he never listens,” he added.
“Is that why you sought me out? To protect me from William?”
Her tone was more serious than he expected. Did she wish for William’s attentions? Perhaps she resented Ambrose interfering.
“I did not seek you out. I merely waited for you and will escort you to the room.”
Her lips quirked. “I see. Does that mean you intend to stay by my side all evening?”
Her smile grew as she looked up at him. A dimple appeared on both cheeks. He had never seen this particular smile. He wanted it to stay.
Without thinking, he nodded. He would happily stay by her side.
Then he frowned when he realized that was not possible.
“I cannot neglect the other ladies.”
Her smile dimmed and she looked down at the book. “Yes, of course.”
Was she disappointed? Was it possible she was not in jest and earnestly wished for his company?
She looked up, her smirk firmly in place. “And which lady will receive the full force of your seduction?”
“Neither.” His familiar annoyance with her sparked. “My first goal is to ascertain if they will suit. I wouldn’t decide on a lady after a few hours of conversation.”
“Love is not determined by time,” she said seriously.
He scoffed. “I do not expect to fall in love with either woman.”
“Good.” Her dimple returned as she took his arm with an air of ownership. “We should return to the drawing room before we are missed.”
As she pulled him forward, he looked down to where her hand rested on his forearm. At another time he might have shaken her off. But he was too befuddled.
He had expected a lecture for his declaration about love. Or perhaps predictions about his heart. Why had his reply pleased her?
He was certain that he was missing something. Some key to her strange behavior. He would have asked for an explanation, but she was right, they needed to return to the others.
“You should know,” she said as they neared the door, “that I am in no danger from William’s charms. I know what he is.”
She sounded so confident that he wanted to believe her.
They paused at the door. She released his arm and turned to him with mischief in her eyes.
“And if you require practice in making love to a woman”—her grin dropped and she met his eyes steadily—“I would welcome your attentions.”
Suddenly, Ambrose could not breathe.
Susanna did not wait for his reply, she strode to the door. He was left to follow her in a daze.