Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Susanna woke to the click of her door closing softly. For a few blissful moments she remembered nothing of the previous day. Then it all rushed upon her like a wave, including waking from her nap to discover she had missed dinner. Susanna suspected Grace had a hand in that.
A groan escaped as she rolled over and buried her head into her pillow.
If only yesterday was a dream. If only she could go back to sleep and forget it all.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of her missed meal.
With a sigh she flopped onto her back. From the corner of her eye, she saw a covered tray.
No doubt its delivery had disrupted her sleep.
Heeding the call of her stomach, Susanna sat up. Food could only improve things.
As she uncovered the tray, she contemplated her predicament.
Her absence last night likely caused speculation.
Should she stay abed today and feign a cold or go out and show nothing was amiss?
The idea of being trapped in her room all day was not appealing, and her pride would not let her hide away.
Although it would be painful, she would feel better once she met with Ambrose and proved her ability to remain austere in his presence. She refused to let him see her heartbreak.
Susanna rang for the maid and busied herself with preparing for the day.
After she was fed, refreshed, and dressed, a maid delivered two letters.
The letter on top bore the distinct handwriting of Aunt Blackwall.
She stifled a groan. Aunt’s letter was sure to contain congratulations.
When last Susanna wrote, she had been so confident of Ambrose’s esteem, so sure he would soon propose.
How could she explain it all to her aunt?
She put aside the letter. The second was only a scrap of folded paper containing a request from Grace to visit the nursery.
Susanna sighed. Her friend had said she would need an explanation, but Susanna was still unsure how much she wanted to share.
Since nothing would come of her feelings, was it really necessary to detail her folly?
After thanking the maid, Susanna left her room and walked to the stairs. With each step she considered what she would tell Grace.
If it was any other man, Susanna would share everything.
Could she tell all when the man was Grace’s brother?
And once the story was told, how would Grace react?
Would she have some insight into Ambrose’s actions?
Would she scold Susanna for her foolishness?
It was sometimes difficult to know what opinions her friend would form.
It was especially difficult when Susanna’s own opinions continued to change.
Last night she had been a riot of emotion, unable to settle on one feeling. This morning she felt hollowed out. When she thought about the previous day, her dominant emotion was mortification, followed closely by sadness.
She had not realized that in the last few weeks, the wish to be Mrs. Hartley had become dear to her. Without intending to, she had placed all her hopes for a happy future in Ambrose Hartley.
Was there a greater fool in all of England?
Upon reaching the nursery, Susanna paused in the doorway.
There was no evidence of Grace, Nurse, or the children.
The room’s only occupant was the very man she wished to avoid.
Ambrose Hartley paced near the windows. Despite her determination to be indifferent, Susanna’s heart leapt and her cheeks heated.
She was not prepared to see him. Not now, perhaps not ever.
She spun around, intent on fleeing.
“Miss Susanna!” His voice stopped her cold.
Running now would only make her appear weak. She took a deep breath and turned around.
He crossed the room and stopped only a few feet away. He was not wearing a coat, and his hair was disheveled, as if he had been running his hands through it all morning. Afraid of losing her composure, she refused to meet his eyes.
“You look very well,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Hartley,” she said stubbornly.
“Don’t call me that.”
He took a step forward and she stepped back.
“That is your name. I recall you often demanding I use it.” Bitterness laced her words.
“Yes, but that was before—” He shook his head. “I did not come here to argue.”
“Pray, why are you here?”
“Grace.” He indicated the room with his hand. “She insisted I apologize.”
“So you are here against your will.” Susanna crossed her arms over her chest, struggling to keep her voice steady.
“No.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I wanted to apologize, for my words and for . . . for everything.”
The softness of his voice was unbearable. What little control she had was crumbling. She swallowed back her emotions. She didn’t know if she wanted to cry or kiss him. She lifted her chin and stared beyond his shoulder.
“Sir, there is no need to discuss yesterday. Such conversations can only bring discomfort to us both.”
“But I—” he began.
“It would please me greatly if we forgot all that occurred yesterday,” Susanna said firmly. She made the mistake of meeting his gaze as she spoke. Something unnameable darkened his green eyes. Was it hurt? Disappointment? Anger?
She looked away.
“Very well,” he said. “If that is what you wish.”
It was very far from what she wished. She wished he would tell her that he made a great mistake, that their kiss had been more than passion, that he wanted to marry her. But wishes weren’t meant to come true.
Not trusting her voice, Susanna nodded and dropped a hasty curtsey before turning and rushing down the stairs.
So much for being indifferent. She had nearly burst into tears, she could barely look at him. How would she endure the rest of the party? The rest of her life?
“Oh, dear.”
Susanna looked up at the words. A blurry Grace stood at the bottom of the stairs, frowning.
Suddenly Susanna realized that Grace had arranged the meeting in the nursery. What had her friend hoped to accomplish?
“We must talk,” Susanna said as she reached her friend.
Grace nodded meekly and followed Susanna to her room. The moment the door was closed, Grace spoke. “I was trying to help.”
Susanna crossed her arms. “With what?”
“You and Rosie. I thought if you could speak, things might be set to rights.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.” Grace sat on the bed as if to say she was not leaving until Susanna told her story.
Susanna threw up her hands. “Very well.”
Instead of starting with yesterday, she went back to the day in London when she first recognized the change in her feelings.
Once she started, Susanna did not struggle for words.
It was as if the story had been waiting patiently for her to share it.
It came tumbling out like the water pouring over the cascade.
Grace did not ask questions, but neither did she passively listen to the tale. She tsked and sighed throughout. When Susanna mentioned the wager about marriage, Grace interrupted to express her ire against such a childish bet.
When Susanna reached Ambrose’s list of her faults, Grace gasped. “He didn’t,” she said.
“I am afraid he did.” Susanna sank onto the bed beside Grace. “He has given ample thought to my flaws.”
Grace opened her mouth and then closed it. “I have much to say, but I want you to finish. What happened next?”
Susanna told her the rest of the story, though she rushed through the description of the kiss and did not dwell on her own anger and hurt.
For a long moment, Grace said nothing. And when she spoke, it was not what Susanna expected.
“I knew that Ambrose would be a challenge, but I did not think him so wholly without sense.” Grace reached for Susanna’s hands. “Oh, my dear, I blame myself for not doing more to encourage the match.”
Susanna’s forehead crinkled. “Encourage the match? You did not! I never—you never—”
Grace laughed. “Oh, Susie, you can’t think that I did not know? That I had not noticed the way you looked at him or how you danced together? You are my oldest friend, and I am not blind.”
Susanna was not amused. She put a hand to her head. “You said nothing to me of this.”
“Just as you did not breathe a word of your feelings to me.” Grace put her hand dramatically over her heart. “I thought we had no secrets.”
“I did not mean for it to be a secret. I was unsure of my feelings. I did not wish to speak in case it was some passing fancy. And I was right to stay silent, for it has all come to naught.”
Susanna fell back on the bed and stared up at the canopy.
“I never thought you lacked determination,” Grace said.
“No amount of determination will change your brother’s feelings.”
Grace waved away Susanna’s words. “Rosie doesn’t know what he feels or what is good for him. You saw the women he courted this Season.”
Despite herself, Susanna smiled. “They were truly terrible choices.”
“Precisely. He has no notion what he needs in a wife. If he did, he would see that you are the perfect partner.”
Heat rushed to Susanna’s cheeks. It was heartening that Grace approved of her, but it did not change anything.
“He has a list of reasons not to marry me,” Susanna said.
“He returned your kiss,” Grace countered. “And he wanted to apologize. Trust me, yesterday he was confused and surprised. Be patient. With time he is sure to realize his mistake.”
Susanna scoffed. She could not share Grace’s confidence.
There was something fundamentally undesirable about coaxing a man to the altar.
To patiently wait while he reconciled himself to the idea of her as a wife was humiliating.
Her heart could not take the torture of being near him and analyzing each word or glance for some sign of change.
It would be a miserable existence with very little hope of a reward.
She wanted a love that was ardent and undeniable. She wanted her husband to gaze at her the way Henry gazed at Grace. She wanted to be loved for every part of herself.
Grace’s words were flattering and her proposal enticing, but Susanna did not believe in her optimistic prediction.
Ambrose had been too forceful in his list of flaws.
There was too much about Susanna that he did not like, would never like.
She would not change for him, and so she must reconcile herself to living without him.
“I don’t want to wait,” Susanna said, her voice breaking.
Grace sighed. “Then I will pray he comes to his senses quickly.”