Chapter 18
Eighteen
When Susanna danced with Ambrose, her doubts about his affections nearly disappeared.
The tenderness in his eyes, the way his touch lingered and his lips turned up softly—it all sent her head to the clouds.
She could hardly sleep, her head and heart were so full, and when she finally did, she dreamed of his arms.
When she awoke the next morning, she was certain he would seek her out.
It seemed impossible he would not wish to express his feelings.
It was difficult not to go to Grace and share everything, but Susanna decided to wait until Ambrose made his intentions known.
In substitute of Grace, Susanna had written to Aunt Blackwall of her love for him and her expectations of courtship.
All day she waited, but he did not approach her, he barely even met her eye.
That night she lost sleep for a different reason.
The next day when the party took rowboats onto the lake, she attempted to be paired with him.
A private conversation on the water, surrounded by the beautiful grounds, would have exceeded all her expectations.
Rather than leap at the opportunity, he had made a flimsy excuse not to go out on the water.
Instead, Susanna set out with William and little Jamie. While not a terrible way to spend an afternoon—they were both delightful company—it was far from what she hoped.
She might have attributed Ambrose’s behavior to apprehension or reserve, but the pattern of avoidance persisted the next day.
In the morning, he did not stir from his room. In the afternoon, he fled the library when she entered. In the evening, he determinedly stayed near Miss Witworth.
It all led Susanna to the inescapable conclusion that Ambrose Hartley was avoiding her.
Was he afraid to speak of his feelings? She had never thought him a coward.
Did he think himself ill prepared for matrimony? But it had been his singular purpose all year.
Perhaps he worried that she did not return his affections? Though she had provided ample encouragement.
Was it his list? Was he too committed to having a wife that fit every requirement that he would ignore his own heart?
She wanted to ask him all these questions outright, but that was impossible when, thanks to his efforts, they were never alone. Sleep was difficult. Her dreams teased her with visions of what might never be. It was intolerable.
By the morning of the third day, her limited patience was worn thin.
She needed answers and had decided exactly how she might get them.
The plan for the day was a visit to Totterhill, the nearby village.
Instead of riding in the landau, Susanna would ask to drive the gig.
The small carriage was the perfect place for a long, private conversation.
Obtaining permission from Grace would be easy. The difficult part would be arranging for Ambrose to accompany her. After careful consideration, Susanna decided it was time to tell Grace of her predicament and enlist her help.
Before going down to breakfast, Susanna sought out her friend and found her in the nursery with Jamie. Susanna could not resist looking at the window and remembering the moment she had shared with Ambrose only days before. He cared for her, she had seen it in his eyes, felt it in his touch.
After brief greetings, which included hugs and laughter from Jamie, Susanna asked for the use of the gig.
“Certainly,” Grace said. “That is an excellent notion. And you might help me by taking one of my brothers with you. The two of them are more trying than I remember. I am sick to death of Rosie’s scowls and William’s endless teasing.”
“I would be happy if Rosie accompanied me,” Susanna said with barely concealed excitement.
“D, Mama!” Jamie happily lifted an alphabet letter to his mother.
Grace praised him before turning her attention back to Susanna. “I will talk to Rosie about accompanying you,” Grace said. “But he might insist on driving.”
It was a jest, but it stung like a bee. A reminder of how Susanna fell short of Ambrose’s ideal. When she told Grace of her predicament, would she encourage the match or explain why they did not suit?
“About your brother,” Susanna began.
“A! A, Mama!” Jamie cried, pulling Grace’s attention back to him.
“Yes, darling, you are so clever,” Grace said then turned to Susanna. “What about my brother?”
“It is only—”
A strong wail echoed from the corner of the room. Alice was awake. Nurse was nowhere in sight, and Grace rushed to comfort her child.
It was the wrong time to bring up such a delicate matter. It was enough that Grace would arrange the rides, there was no need for further explanations. Instead of spilling her heart, Susanna applied herself to playing with Jamie until Nurse arrived. Then she made her goodbyes and left the nursery.
Susanna prepared for the excursion with the energy of a buzzing hive. In her mind she rehearsed what she would say. Perhaps all Ambrose needed was reassurance of her affections before he would speak. To bolster her confidence, she wore her favorite pink dress and green driving cloak.
On her way to the front hall, Susanna was joined by Miss Witworth.
“It is a lovely morning for a drive,” Miss Witworth said mildly.
“Yes, lovely.” Susanna had nothing else to say to the woman.
“Though I worry it might rain this afternoon.”
“Oh?”
Gratefully they had reached the door, and Susanna could end the conversation by attending to her bonnet and gloves. She managed not to scoff when Miss Witworth asked for an umbrella. Susanna left the lady with the footman.
Outside the sun peeked through fluffy clouds in a blue sky.
Not a thundercloud in sight. In the drive, the landau and gig awaited.
Only Grace and Henry were there, standing by the larger landau, awaiting their guests.
Susanna exchanged waves with them as she made her way down the steps toward the gig.
She had nearly reached the carriage when energetic steps from behind made her turn expectantly. She tried not to frown when she saw a smiling William.
“My sister says we are to ride together,” he said as he came up beside her.
“She said no such thing,” Susanna replied.
William chuckled. “No, she did not, but surely you will not refuse me?” He smiled as if he could not fathom that he was not welcomed everywhere.
“Your brother is riding with me,” Susanna said firmly.
William cocked his head. “I see. Well, let me help you up.” He offered his hand.
Susanna took it and climbed into the gig. Before she could be seated, he jumped up beside her. The rocking threw her against him slightly. She scowled at him.
“I have half a mind to push you out,” she said as she put distance between them.
He laughed, not the least bit embarrassed. “Come now, Miss Susie, you don’t mean that.”
She meant it.
Only propriety stayed her. He was going to ruin everything. What would Ambrose do when he came out expecting to ride with her and found William in his place?
William must have seen something in her eyes. He raised his hands in surrender. “I promise that when Rosie demands his seat, I will give it up freely.”
Susanna nodded and sat with a huff. Why must she be pulled into William’s goading of Ambrose?
William settled beside her. The Arden gig was well maintained but was still a gig.
Their shoulders and knees bumped together as they squeezed into the small seat.
Susanna looked toward Grace, hoping to draw her attention to the situation.
But she was talking with the newly arrived Miss Witworth and Miss Colley.
“Ah, there he is,” William said.
Susanna turned to the front door, where Mr. Scott and Ambrose were exiting. She took a moment to admire him. Dressed in a striking green coat, his hat slightly askew, he strode with manly purpose. Her heart fluttered as his gaze moved toward her.
When he saw them, he frowned. She tried to convey her frustration with her own frown and shake of the head, but he did not seem to understand. He looked away. Instead of storming to the gig and demanding his brother get out, he walked to the landau.
“It seems he does not mind swapping,” William said.
Susanna blinked in astonishment. Why did his continued avoidance surprise her? Of course he had seized the opportunity to evade her. Her heart stirred with a combination of hurt and anger.
“Abandoning me, eh?” Mr. Scott said as he came near the gig.
“Do you blame me?” William returned with a smile.
“No, I too would prefer to drive if I could,” Mr. Scott replied.
“Oh, I am not at the reins. I am merely a passenger on this jaunty excursion.”
“I am driving.” Susanna indicated to the groom that she was ready for the reins.
Mr. Scott smiled. “Why does that not surprise me?”
She was sure he meant it as some kind of compliment, but after Ambrose’s snub it felt like a judgment. Mr. Scott and William exchanged a few more words before he departed to join the others.
“Pull to the front,” William urged. “Then we can go at our own pace.”
It wasn’t exactly proper, but it matched Susanna’s feelings. She did not wish to trail behind, trying to avoid the landau’s dust. She wished to go fast and lose herself in managing the horse. It would give her mind and muscles occupation.
She urged the animal forward and maneuvered around the full carriage, not sparing a glance at them or Ambrose.
William waved as they passed the others. “See you in Totterhill.”
When they were well beyond the landau, Susanna increased their pace down the broad lane. A frequent visitor to Brentmere Park, Susanna knew several routes to the village. She took the most direct at the fastest possible pace.
William laughed and spoke, but she barely marked him. Her attention was on the horse and road, avoiding all thoughts of Ambrose and her feelings. A dip in the road sent them momentarily aloft. William gripped the side tightly.
“A bit fast, eh?” he said with a nervous chuckle.
She did not reply or slow down.
As they neared the village, Susanna took the turn a little too quickly and the gig teetered, threatening to tip them. William’s nervous laugh turned into a shout of warning. She threw herself to the opposite side to rebalance the vehicle. The carriage settled back on its wheels.
Susanna slowed the horse to a walk and caught her breath.
“That was a near thing,” William said with barely disguised exasperation. “Perhaps I should drive.”
“If you do not wish to ride with me, you are welcome to walk,” Susanna snapped.
She was sorely tempted to stop the carriage and make him climb out.
“No wonder Rosie didn’t want to accompany you,” he muttered and crossed his arms.
Heat crept up her neck. “Did he truly say that?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly.
William sighed. “No, of course not. Rosie would never be so rude. He didn’t even know that he was meant to ride with you.”
“He didn’t?” Susanna turned to William, desperate for his explanation. “William, what mischief have you been up to?”
He shrugged. “Grace wanted me to tell Rosie that he was riding with you, but I decided not to.”
“Why?”
“Riding with you seemed more exciting than the landau.”
Susanna didn’t think that was the entire reason, but she didn’t much care to press him. The important thing was that Ambrose had not rejected her, he had not even known he was meant to ride with her.
“You know most ladies would be elated to be alone with me,” William said into the silence.
Susanna was surprised into something between a laugh and a scoff. “Most ladies do not know you as I do.”
His statement was no boast—she knew many women admired him—but she had long since ceased to think of him as anything but a brother.
Susanna wished that William was the kind of man she could trust with a secret. That she could tell him why she was upset at his interference and ask for his advice. But he was not that kind of man. He was more likely to laugh at her and tease Ambrose than provide any real assistance.
William sighed as the village came into view. “Will you at least pretend to enjoy my company?” he asked.
She raised her eyebrows at his plaintive tone. “In general, I do enjoy your company.”
“But you are not smiling or laughing. How are we to set the village tongues wagging if you look pained?”
“You are trying to encourage gossip?” Susanna said slowly. “To what purpose?”
“Jealousy is a very powerful motivator,” he replied with a grin.
Susanna laughed. Who could possibly be jealous of her? Then she recalled some venomous looks in London ballrooms. It was inevitable that some young ladies would mistake William’s familiarity for deeper feelings. Did he intentionally use her to make other women jealous?
It seemed possible. After all, he had intended to charm her as some kind of lesson to his brother. Susanna was accustomed to dismissing William’s attentions and compliments, but what had the others made of them? Was Miss Colley or Miss Witworth jealous?
And what of Ambrose? His scowls and pointed comments certainly indicated some annoyance with his brother. Could he possibly think she cared for William when she had told him of her indifference? Did that account for his avoidance?
It was the first thing that made sense. And it raised her hopes.
Jealousy grew in fields of affection. If Ambrose was jealous, it was a sure proof of his regard.
If she could get him to confess his jealousy, then his tender feelings might follow.
All she needed to do was take William’s lead and use him as he was using her.
She would not be the first woman to employ such tactics on a man she loved.
Were Susanna not desperate, she would never think of such a thing. But Ambrose’s determined avoidance had left her with few options. Encouraging his jealousy seemed the most expedient method for achieving her aim.
It seemed she had no choice but to flirt with the wrong Mr. Hartley.