Chapter 5 #2
Nodding, Corliss gave a final twist to one of Susanna’s curls.
“Mr. Thornton has never said a word about his servant days, Miss Camille, ‘cept that he worked in the fields. I did overhear him telling Master Cary not long after he hired on here that he came from England with his parents when he was thirteen and that their indentures were bought by another planter, Mr. Dominick Spencer. I didn’t hear anything else because Ertha caught me listening outside the library door and boxed my ears good.” She chuckled softly. “I was only thirteen then myself.”
Intrigued by this new information, Susanna couldn’t seem to stop her questions. “Does this Mr. Spencer live around here?”
A knowing smile crept over Corliss’s lips.
“Not too close, but not too far, either. His place is about fifteen miles upriver, near the town of West Point. He’s a widower, you know, and as rich as the day is long.
He’s got the finest house on the York, ‘cept for this one, the finest racehorses, the finest everything. He’s real handsome, too, and a well-respected gentleman. Member of the governor’s council.”
Susanna hadn’t expected such a complete list of the man’s attributes. “Corliss, how do you know all this?”
The young woman shrugged, her dark eyes full of humor.
“We talk in the kitchen, Ertha, Prue, and the rest of us housemaids. We know you’ll be looking for a husband soon, and he’s said to be looking for a wife.
We just put two and two together, though don’t take me wrong, Miss Camille, I’m not saying he’s the right one for you.
You might very well want a younger man, seeing as Mr. Spencer is in his forties—”
Corliss fell abruptly silent when someone knocked softly on the door.
“Miss Camille, it’s Ertha. I just wanted to let you know that dinner will be served in a few minutes.”
“Oh, no, I’ve kept you too long with all my chatter.” Corliss glanced at the china clock on the mantel, which read exactly three o’clock. “Ertha will scold me for sure.”
“No, she won’t,” Susanna said with a reassuring smile as she rose from the dressing table. “I’ll just explain that we were becoming acquainted.”
She took a last look at herself in the mirror and was amazed at her transformation. Now that she had someone to help her dress and arrange her hair, she looked like a real lady. She could hardly wait until Saturday to see the reactions of the gentlemen, young and old, who might come to call.
“Did you enjoy the meal, Miss Camille?” Prue asked, clasping her plump hands together as she stood at one end of the lengthy dining table. Her expression was doubtful as she surveyed Susanna’s plate, which remained nearly full.
“The food was wonderful, Prue. Really,” Susanna said, feeling bad that she hadn’t eaten more.
In truth, the little of the braised lamb, herbed vegetables, and buttered new potatoes she had tasted had been excellent, but after subsisting on thin, watery soup and dry bread for the past several weeks, she had only half her normal appetite.
Between that and the tightness of her stays, she had managed only a few bites before she was full.
No wonder Camille had always eaten like a sparrow.
And Susanna had thought it was simply due to proper table manners!
“I’m sure I’ll be able to eat more in a few days, once I’m used to good cooking again,” she explained, glad when Prue’s face brightened. “The food aboard ship…” She grimaced, which seemed to convince the cook that her expertise was not at fault.
“I can well imagine it was terrible. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it,” Prue said sympathetically, clucking her tongue as she removed Susanna’s plate.
“I’ll just save the wild strawberry tart for a light supper, then, and the rest of the food for Mr. Thornton.
I’m sure he’ll be hungry when he returns later in the day. ”
“That will be fine, Prue. Thank you.”
Susanna glanced at the empty chair to her right where a place setting had been laid for Adam. Ertha had already explained why he would be absent for dinner. It seemed the life of a plantation manager was a demanding one.
Actually, when she had heard that he had ridden out to deal with a problem in some distant tobacco fields, she had been disappointed.
She had wanted to apologize to him for her behavior earlier, and, more selfishly, to see his reaction to her appearance.
He wasn’t a gentleman, but he was a man, after all.
If he liked the way she looked, she could imagine what her prospective suitors would think on Saturday.
Determined to become better acquainted with her new surroundings, Susanna went into the library, where she spent several pleasant hours browsing through the vast collection of books. She was so glad that she had learned to read, for she enjoyed it immensely.
A favorite pastime of hers and Camille’s had been to curl up in the window seats and read to each other—poetry, Shakespeare, and occasionally a romantic novel if Susanna could buy one from a traveling bookseller.
Lady Redmayne had caught her with such a book once and before tossing it into the fire had proclaimed it complete drivel and a poor excuse for literature.
But Susanna and Camille had known better.
They had laughed and sighed and even shed tears over the trials and tribulations of the heroes and their beautiful ladies, and rejoiced when the lovers were happily united in the end.
Yet, when the book was closed, both of them knew in their hearts that such romantic love had little to do with their own lives, where pragmatism and a sense of duty ruled.
It was still pleasant, however, to escape once in a while into a world where love and its fulfillment need be the only considerations.
After a while, Susanna began to feel restless and decided a walk outside in the fresh air would do her good. It was almost six o’clock, but there was still plenty of sunlight left to this long summer day.
As she exited the French doors at the rear of the house, she thought how wonderful it was not to feel a ship swaying and pitching beneath her feet.
She strolled quietly along the bricked paths and resplendent flower beds all the way down to the riverbank, where she sat upon a marble bench beneath a gigantic spreading oak tree and gazed out across the water.
It was so peaceful here in the shade. Instead of thundering waves, creaking wood, and the coarse cries of sailors going about their work, she heard sweet, trilling birdsong, the gentle lap of water against the grassy shoreline, and the distant muted sounds of plantation life.
The air was warm, but not too much so, and fragrant with the scents of roses and gardenias carried upon a gentle breeze.
Susanna could have sat there for hours, not thinking about anything in particular, just enjoying the tranquility of her surroundings as the daylight softened and shadows lengthened, the sun slowly setting behind the trees.
She was so engrossed in her private reflection that she did not hear the fall of footsteps behind her, nor did she sense that she was no longer alone.
“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”
She froze, Adam’s deep, husky voice eliciting a strange excitement within her that surprised her almost as much as his unexpected presence.
“Do you always creep up behind people like a thief, Mr. Thornton?” she replied with feigned lightness, ignoring his presumptuous question.
“Ah, I startled you. Forgive me. I was so struck by the enchanting picture you made that I was loath to disturb you.”
He came around the bench to stand in front of her, and in spite of herself she could not help thinking how attractive he was.
His features were rugged like the man himself, dark brows over deep-set eyes, a slightly hawklike yet pleasing nose, a mouth that appeared uncompromising yet undeniably sensuous over a strong cleft chin, and the hard planes of his face faintly shadowed with dark stubble.
How much—deceivingly so!—he looked like a true Virginia gentleman.
He had clearly dressed with care in a finely cut blue coat, silver brocade waistcoat, and matching breeches that fit his taut, muscular body to perfection.
Yet his tanned face held a fine sheen of perspiration and his dark hair, although tied in a queue, appeared unruly and windblown, as if he had arrived only moments ago from his ride and changed in a hurry.
His intense gaze, which held the slightest hint of wry amusement—at her obvious appraisal of him? she wondered—caught and held hers.
“You have still to answer my question,” he observed huskily, “although I would imagine many young gentlemen have praised your beauty.”
“Actually, no, none have been so…bold,” she stressed, hoping he would see that he was far overstepping his bounds.
“Then they were fools. Allow me to be the first to tell you, Miss Cary, you are very lovely. Bewitchingly so.”
Susanna blushed hotly, her cheeks burning, not as Camille would certainly have done but because she herself was truly, and unbelievably, flattered by his brash compliment.
She should have known that he wouldn’t be deterred by her pointed remark.
She had hoped for some reaction from him about her appearance, a smile, a look of approval, but she hadn’t expected this!
When his eyes fell to her breasts, she followed them, and was shocked to discover her skin was flushed pink clear down to her low-cut, rounded bodice.
Silently seething, furious with herself for having given her emotions away so easily, and still feeling his impertinent gaze like a hot wind upon her flesh, she refused to lift her head to look at him.
“May I sit down?” came his low-spoken query, confident, assured.