Chapter 4
“Good afternoon, Susanna!”
Susanna smiled and waved at Lady Ellen as she hurried along the street to where they were meeting. “Good afternoon, Ellen!”
“I see that your mother was more than contented to let you step out with me,” Lady Ellen said, looking over Susanna’s shoulder and seeing no chaperone there. “She was introduced to Lady Kilthorn at the ball, yes?”
With a nod, Susanna began to walk towards Hyde Park.
“Yes, that is so. Your aunt was very kind indeed, offering to chaperone me whenever it was required. She stated it so very clearly and with such consideration that my mother was delighted to accept the offer.” She chuckled.
“Which is why you now find me standing here without a chaperone and beside you!”
“I am glad to have you here,” Lady Ellen replied, as they stepped into Hyde Park.
The afternoon sun was warm upon them, dappling through the lime trees that lined the gravel walks and casting long, shifting patterns across the path ahead.
A gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh-cut grass and the distant sound of children laughing near the Serpentine.
It was the sort of afternoon that ought to have lifted Susanna’s spirits, and she was grateful, at least, for the company.
“My aunt is here also, but she has decided to walk a short distance behind us.”
Surprised, Susanna turned her head and looked over her shoulder, seeing Lady Kilthorn smiling at her. “I must have walked straight past her!”
“Do not be embarrassed.” Lady Ellen laughed at Susanna’s flush. “She did not want to interrupt our walk.” Her smile faded. “Will you tell me the truth about something, Susanna?
Knowing exactly what it was that Ellen wanted to ask, Susanna pressed her lips together. “You wish to ask me about what it was that troubled me so the night of the ball some two days ago.”
Her friend nodded. “Yes.”
“I do not know if I can,” Susanna responded, speaking slowly as she thought about what she was trying to say. “It is, as I am sure you have guessed, to do with Lord Lancashire.”
Lady Ellen searched her face. “I did think it was connected to him. You looked to be very upset upon seeing him. I did not know you were acquainted.”
We were more than acquainted.
“I – I was a fool,” Susanna responded, swallowing hard. “Last Season, Lord Lancashire and I were introduced. I thought nothing of it, thinking of him only as another gentleman of my acquaintance. But then, he began to – well, I thought – to seek me out.”
“Did your mother not notice his interest?”
Susanna shook her head. “It was very subtly done – his attentions, I mean. And my mother was just as distracted by Maude as she is this Season.” Her shoulders rounded.
“I was a little confused at first, but there was one moment when he stole me away from the other gentlemen and ladies attending a soiree. It was only briefly, you understand, but it was significant enough to make an impression upon me.”
“But he did not ever ask to court you?” Lady Ellen asked, sounding surprised. “Even with all of these moments?”
Susanna shook her head. “He spoke to me one evening, telling me that he cared for me.” Her heart constricted, and her throat closed up. “More than that.” She could not get more words out; her whole body tensed against the tears that threatened.
“Oh, Susanna.” Ellen put one hand on Susanna’s arm. “He told you that his heart was affectionate towards you?”
She nodded, relieved that she was managing to keep the tears back.
“And I can imagine that you felt the same way,” Ellen finished for her, as Susanna took in a long, steadying breath, determined that she would not cry in the middle of Hyde Park.
With so many other ladies and gentlemen of the ton walking through the park, she did not want any of them to see her crying. That would be sure to spread whispers.
“But nothing came of it?”
Susanna shook her head. “I cannot understand what happened.” Seeing Ellen’s eyes filled with confusion, she shook her head. “He promised me that he would go to speak with my father, but only once some matter was concluded. I do not know what it was.”
“But he spoke to you of that, at least. Perhaps it is that which has held you apart from each other?”
Susanna let out a slow breath. “No, I do not think so. The matter that he spoke of - he did not give me any details about it. I did not dare ask for he made it abundantly clear that he would not speak to me of it. He promised me, however, that the moment it was resolved – and he did not think it would be long – he would come and speak with my father. He wanted to court. He wanted to think of engagement. But then, there was naught but silence.”
Ellen frowned. “I do not understand. What happened?”
“He simply stopped seeking me out,” she managed to say, her voice rasping.
“There were no more stolen moments, no more smiles or even warm glances between us. He completely withdrew – and then disappeared from society entirely. I spent the rest of the Season without him. There came no letters, no notes, no explanations whatsoever. I have nothing but confusion and doubt – doubt about all that I believed about him and a sense of foolishness over my own heart. I thought that I loved him and that he, in return, loved me.” Tears came into her eyes again, and she blinked them back.
“He suggested a future that I ended up longing for, only for my heart to be left empty.”
For a long moment, Ellen said nothing. Then, she shook her head and scowled, her expression dark. “How dare he do such a thing as that?”
This was not the response that Susanna had expected. She had already seen Ellen’s sympathy, but to now see her anger was certainly a surprise. It was not an emotion that she herself had experienced; she considered, mayhap, it was a feeling she should have permitted herself to feel.
“To promise you so many things and then pull away from you without explanation?” Ellen continued, her eyes flashing.
“What sort of fellow does he think he is? Is he so arrogant and proud that he thinks he can treat others just as he pleases and without consequence – and you, especially, being a daughter of a Duke?” She stopped, then held Susanna’s gaze.
“Did you speak to your father about it? I am sure he would have been able to do something.”
Susanna shook her head. “No. No other person in my family knew of our connection or anything about what he said to me.”
Ellen grimaced. “Then you have carried this burden alone, yes?”
Closing her eyes briefly, Susanna nodded but said nothing.
She could not trust her voice. The weight of it — a full year of silence, of unanswered questions, of smiling at her mother across the breakfast table and pretending nothing was wrong — pressed down on her now with a force she had not expected.
She had not realized how heavy the secret had become until this moment, standing on this sunlit path with someone willing to bear part of it with her.
Ellen reached for her hand and squeezed it firmly. “You are not alone in this any longer, Susanna. I want you to know that.”
The simple declaration, spoken with such quiet certainty, nearly undid her.
“That must have been a great struggle and a great burden for you,” Ellen said, gently. “And now, you are forced to face him when he is here in London and traversing society once more!”
“Which is why I reacted as I did when I saw him at the ball,” Susanna explained, as they began to walk again.
“My heart has not prepared itself for meeting him again. I have been so upset and confused, I have dreaded the moment of our meeting – and even though I could have spoken to him last evening and moved past that moment, I did not have the strength to do so.”
Her friend sighed heavily. “I cannot imagine how you must feel at this present moment. What a sorrow must be upon your heart!”
Susanna’s throat squeezed. “Yes, it is painful.”
“But I am here with you now, and I can be your support,” Ellen said, determinedly. “You must now show Lord Lancashire that you are not affected by his presence, even if you are inwardly breaking apart.”
A little uncertain that she could even do that sort of thing, Susanna frowned. “I do not know, Ellen. To keep my emotions pushed down as hard as I can will require a great deal of effort – effort I am not certain I have the strength for.”
“But to show him your tears and your heartbreak will do no good,” came the reply, “especially if it is as you fear. If he is so cruel a fellow as to pretend that he felt something for you only to steal a few moments with you, then he will find delight in your pain, I am sure of it. And he will certainly feel no guilt, that is for certain!”
Seeing her friend’s logic, Susanna bit her lip and then pressed her lips tightly together. “I understand what you mean.”
“Do you think you can do it?”
Susanna sighed and shook her head. “I could not do it alone, but if I am to have your stalwart support, then that does change things somewhat.”
Ellen smiled. “I am quite sure that, in time, you might well be able to enjoy this Season – and perhaps find another gentleman who will be far better than Lord Lancashire.”
Susanna winced. “Mayhap, but I confess my heart still lingers in its affection for Lord Lancashire.”
Her friend’s breath caught in a gasp.
“I know, it is quite ridiculous,” Susanna continued, her face flushing. “I should be turning my back on him. I should be upset and perhaps angry in the same way you are, but my heart will not let him go.”
Ellen’s eyes softened. “I do not think poorly of you, my friend. I wish it were not so, of course, but perhaps in time, that will change.” Her smile brightened her expression.
“In fact, I am sure that if we continue through the Season, if you meet and smile and dance and laugh with all the other gentlemen present, you most certainly will forget this foolish Lord Lancashire.”
Susanna managed a small, watery laugh at her friend’s ferocity, then tilted her head.
“And what of you, Ellen? You speak with such certainty about dancing and laughing with gentlemen, but I notice you have not mentioned any of your own.” She watched as a telltale flush crept up Ellen’s neck to settle high on her cheekbones.
“Do not think I have failed to observe it.”
Ellen looked away, suddenly very interested in a swan gliding across the Serpentine. “I am sure I do not know what you mean.”
“Lord Kettering,” Susanna said, gently.
The flush deepened from pink to scarlet. Ellen opened her mouth, closed it, and then let out a breath that was halfway between a laugh and a sigh. “You are very observant for a lady in the midst of heartbreak.”
“So I am right.” Susanna squeezed her friend’s arm. “You have noticed him.”
“I would have to be made of stone not to notice him,” Ellen admitted, her voice dropping to something almost wistful.
“He is kind, Susanna. Genuinely kind — not in the way that gentlemen are kind when they want something, but in the way that speaks of habit and character. He remembered my aunt’s name after being introduced to her only once.
He asked after her health.” She paused, and something wistful crossed her expression.
“But I am not foolish enough to think that kindness to a lady’s aunt is the same as interest in the lady herself. ”
“Why should it not be?”
Ellen’s smile turned rueful. “Because I am the niece of a baroness with modest connections and a comfortable but hardly impressive income. Lord Kettering is the son of an earl, Susanna. He could have any woman in London — and most of them come with far grander names and far larger dowries than mine.” She smoothed a crease in her glove, the only sign of agitation she permitted herself.
“I am not in the habit of wanting things I cannot have. I have seen what that does — to your heart, to your confidence, to your peace of mind. I would rather admire him from a sensible distance than make myself vulnerable to that kind of disappointment.”
There was something in her voice — not bitterness, exactly, but a practiced acceptance — that made Susanna ache for her. Ellen, who was so quick to champion everyone else’s happiness, had quietly resigned herself to the idea that her own was unlikely.
“I think you underestimate yourself,” Susanna said softly. “And I think you underestimate Lord Kettering.”
Ellen shook her head, but she was smiling — really smiling, now, with a warmth that reached her eyes. “Perhaps. But let us attend to your heartbreak before we begin manufacturing one of my own, shall we?”
Susanna smiled at the deflection — recognized it for what it was — but said nothing more. There would be time. And she made a silent promise to herself that when the time came, she would champion Ellen’s happiness with the same fierce loyalty that Ellen had shown her.
There was a freedom in having shared all that she felt, she realized — a heaviness lifting from her chest that she had not known was there until it was gone.
Finally, after over a year of confusion and sorrow, she was no longer alone in this.
Perhaps this Season might bring her some happiness after all.