Chapter 20
“Mama?”
The Duchess looked up from her writing desk as Susanna came into the room. “Oh, Susanna. I thought you were out for a drive with Lord Lancashire, Lord Kettering, and Lady Ellen.”
“He has been delayed,” Susanna said, “but he will be here shortly. I just wanted to tell you that I would be leaving a little later and, therefore, will return to the house a little later also.”
Her mother nodded. “Very good, Susanna. I hope that you enjoy yourself and that all goes well.”
Still unused to the warmth that her mother now had for her, Susanna stepped out of the room and was about to make her way directly towards the front of the house, only for an exclamation to catch her attention.
She paused, coming to a stop in the hallway, hearing another voice joining in with the first.
Ever since the park — since she had watched Maude and Lady Evelina huddled beneath the elms like conspirators in a Gothic novel — Susanna had been paying attention.
Not obviously. Not in any way that Maude would notice.
But she had trained herself to listen for the wrong notes: the sudden silences when she entered a room, the too-quick subject changes, the way Maude’s eyes would slide past her with an emptiness that felt practiced rather than casual.
It had become a kind of quiet vigilance, exhausting but necessary, because whatever her sister was planning was not yet finished.
And now, standing in the hallway of her own home, she heard Maude’s voice coming from behind the parlor door — and it was not the bright, carrying voice she used for social occasions. It was lower. Urgent. The voice of a woman who did not wish to be overheard.
Susanna’s first instinct was to walk past. She had been raised to believe that eavesdropping was beneath a lady of her station, and every lesson in deportment she had ever received demanded that she turn her feet toward the door and leave her sister to her privacy.
But the lessons of the last few weeks had taught her something different: that propriety could be wielded as a weapon, and that sometimes, refusing to look was simply another word for choosing to be deceived.
She moved closer to the door. Her heart was pounding — she could feel it in her fingertips, in the hollow of her throat — but her steps were deliberate.
“I am just as displeased about Susanna’s success as you!” she heard Maude say, in such a loud voice that the words carried clearly through the paneled door. “This was not at all what was meant to happen.”
Susanna stilled, her heart catapulting around her chest as her sister’s words struck at her.
“You know as well as I that we did all that we could to prevent this,” she heard her sister continue. “It is not my fault that Lord Lancashire has returned to her, and it is certainly not my fault that he has discovered the truth about the letter!”
With a snatch of breath, Susanna nearly fell back against the wall, her hand going to press against her pounding heart. How could it be? Her sister was behind this? Her sister, along with whoever else was within the room? Why would Maude do such a thing? Why would she try to injure Susanna so?
The carriage. A dull thought pressed forward into her mind, and she stood tall once more, moving away from the parlor and back towards the front of the house.
The walk would have to wait. The truth was now before her, hidden away in the parlor and still to be uncovered in all of its fullness.
There came a second voice from the parlor, but Susanna did not wait, nor did she return to it.
Instead, she made her way to the front door but shook her head when the maid tried to hand her her bonnet.
“I will not be going out today,” she said, her lips feeling bruised and thick as shock swam through her veins. “Rather, Lord Lancashire, Lord Kettering, and Lady Ellen will be joining me here.”
The maid said nothing, stepping back into the shadows and leaving Susanna to stand alone.
Her heart was still pounding, her whole body tingling with the shock of what she had overheard.
The hallway seemed to tilt around her, the familiar contours of her own home rendered suddenly strange and hostile, as though she had stumbled into a house she did not recognize.
Her own sister. The words kept repeating, each repetition landing harder than the last. Leaning against the doorframe, she closed her eyes against the wave of upset and sorrow.
She pressed one hand flat against the cool wood of the door and used its solidity to anchor herself, afraid that without it she might simply slide to the floor.
“Susanna?”
Lord Lancashire’s voice was a welcome relief. Opening her eyes, she saw him jumping down from the carriage, as Lord Kettering and Lady Ellen peered at her from within the carriage.
“Lancashire.” She took both of his hands in hers.
“You must all come in, Lady Kilthorn too, if she could. I know this will not make sense to her, but –” Sensing tears filling her eyes, she blinked them back quickly.
“My sister is talking with someone in the parlor at this very moment. They are talking about you and the letters.”
Lord Lancashire’s mouth fell open, his eyes widening.
“But we must hurry,” she said, her voice catching. “We have only a few moments with which to announce ourselves and discover the truth.”
With only a nod, Lord Lancashire squeezed her hands and then stepped away, going to the carriage and speaking to those within.
Susanna heard Ellen’s loud exclamation, and within a few seconds, her friend was beside her, shock written into her expression.
Shock that Susanna could understand all too well.
“How can this be?” Ellen asked, as Susanna squeezed her eyes closed against the threatening tears. “How could Maude do such a thing?”
“I do not know,” Susanna whispered, unable to trust her voice, “but I must try to understand.” Her heart twisted sharply, and she snatched in some air, pushing away her tears as best she could. “My sister has tried to cause me great pain, but it has been done alongside another.”
“Then let us go and discover who this other is,” Lord Lancashire said, grimly as he took Susanna’s hand in his own. “Although I believe we may already know.”
“Lady Evelina,” Lord Kettering muttered as they all stepped inside, with Lady Kilthorn choosing to remain in the carriage, waiting for their return.
Susanna, taking strength from Lord Lancashire’s hand in her own, held her head high as she walked back towards the parlor.
Then, giving herself only a breath by which to gain her courage, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, followed by Lord Lancashire, then Ellen, then Lord Kettering.
Maude shot to her feet. “Whatever is the meaning of this?” Her eyes landed on Susanna, her face flushing red.
“Susanna, I thought you were out on a drive with…” Trailing off, she looked at the others in turn, just as Susanna turned her attention to the other person present in the room.
Lord Kettering had been quite correct, it seemed, for Lady Evelina sat there, her hands clasped in her lap, but her face beginning to pale as she looked from one face to the next.
“How could you do this to me, Maude?” Susanna did not begin by asking questions, did not start going through one thing at a time, but instead, brought the truth directly to her sister. “How could you try to injure me so?”
Maude’s face went from scarlet to puce and back again.
“I know that we have never been close, but I thought you cared about me, as your sister,” Susanna continued, her voice rasping. “And now, to discover that you have done all you can to prevent me from gaining happiness…. I can hardly take it in. I cannot understand it.”
Lord Lancashire, his hand still on hers, moved closer so that she could lean against him a little, needing his presence still. Her eyes welled with tears, but she forced them back, wanting to hear Maude’s explanation rather than let sorrow overtake her.
“You were overheard, Lady Maude,” he said, his voice flooding the room as Maude sucked in air, her eyes now going to Lady Evelina, who, despite the paleness in her cheeks, had her head lifted and her gaze fixed to the wall opposite her.
“We have been seeking the truth for a long time, but never once did we think that it would come from Lady Susanna’s very own family. ”
The pain that forced its way into Susanna’s heart was so great that she could not breathe. Turning, she put her head to Lord Lancashire’s shoulder, tears unwilling to be held back any longer as his arm wrapped around her waist.
“Thankfully,” she heard Ellen say, as Lord Lancashire murmured words of comfort into her ear, “you did not succeed. Lord Lancashire discovered that the letter was not truly from Lord Blackwood and has now returned to Susanna. They will be married, happy, and contented, and your scheme will have failed utterly.” The words were spat out, harshness and anger burning through each one.
“How could you do such a thing, Maude? To your own sister?”
“I am to gain the happiness first!”