Chapter 9 #3
Susanna swung her gaze to the lanky gentleman seated on the bench beside her. She imagined her cheeks must be very red. Her face actually burned from the vehemence of her thoughts.
“Yes, Mr. Dandridge?”
“You look flushed, Miss Cary, and it’s such a warm day. Are you sure I can’t fetch you more lemon punch?”
She licked her lips, deciding she could use some cool refreshment, if only to soothe her temper. “That would be very nice, Mr. Dandridge. Thank you.”
Beaming from ear to ear, the attractive, long-legged young man almost tripped over several gentlemen lounging on the grass in his haste to answer her needs. His place was quickly taken up by Matthew Grymes, who had been hovering behind the bench, clearly waiting for such a moment.
“I could have gotten the punch for you, Miss Cary,” he said, his heavily lidded eyes and disappointed expression reminding Susanna of a doleful spaniel.
“Perhaps next time,” she murmured, throwing another glance toward the house, only to discover with keen irritation that Adam and Celeste were no longer in sight.
She was grateful when Matthew, having brightened at her response, launched into another long-winded description of his prowess during a recent fox hunt, his favorite sport, which enabled her to listen with half an ear and once again retreat into her thoughts.
As the other gentlemen eagerly joined in with their own experiences, each seeking to outdo the other with their prideful boasting, she could not help but wonder if all the gentry ever talked about was themselves and their amusements.
It seemed so. How unlike Adam, who didn’t want to talk about himself at all.
Of course he wasn’t gentry, Susanna reminded herself, her anger pricked anew. He was nothing but a hired man, a born liar, and an opportunistic blackguard.
She knew she wasn’t jealous about him walking through the garden with Celeste, but simply disgusted that he might have been the man to marry Camille if things hadn’t turned out as they had.
Then her gentle, trusting friend would have had to suffer through life with a man who wanted her only for her wealth, and who, when he could finally afford it, was certain to keep a dozen beautiful mistresses to satisfy his base and lustful nature.
Dear God, she hoped Celeste wouldn’t fall for his pretty words.
She knew from unwanted experience how good he was at exploiting a woman’s sensibilities.
Perhaps it was Adam’s plan to nurture a relationship between himself and Celeste in hopes of one day enticing her into his bed.
It probably didn’t matter to him that she was yet unmarried and that he could so easily ruin her reputation…
Susanna was astounded by how her mind was racing on and on about Adam. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him and enjoy herself? She had waited so eagerly for this day, but now that it was here, she had to admit she was disappointed.
Her gaze skipped from one gentleman’s face to another.
They all seemed so young, and though several of them were handsome, no one man stood out.
Yet these were her suitors, and from men such as these she must choose a husband.
Oh, they were nice enough, eager to please, fun-loving and witty.
Yet she couldn’t imagine kissing but a few of them—she glanced at Matthew’s pudgy face with its sweating upper lip and shuddered slightly—and even if she did, they couldn’t possibly make her feel as Adam had last night—
Stunned that she would even think such a thing, Susanna barely saw the brimming crystal cup hovering in front of her. She rose from the bench so suddenly that lemon punch flew everywhere, but mostly down the front of her gown, completely soaking the ruffled bodice.
“Oh, God, Miss Cary, forgive me! I’ve ruined your pretty dress.”
“No, no, it’s all right,” she said, trying to reassure a stricken Mr. Dandridge as everyone gathered around her, appearing uncertain how best to help. “I’ll…I’ll just go inside and change.”
“Let me escort you—”
“There’s no need, Matthew. I’ll be fine,” she insisted.
Dropping her fan on the bench, she held her spattered skirt slightly away from her body so as not to wet the hoop-petticoat underneath.
“It was about time for me to change into something more formal anyway. I’m sure the dancing will start soon…
” She paused, her eyes sweeping her anxious guests.
She felt terrible about the ruckus she had caused, and all because of… Oh, she didn’t want to think about it!
“Please, help yourselves to more food and drink,” she added graciously. “Prue will be so disappointed if her good cooking goes to waste. And don’t worry about me. This is such a small mishap, it’s truly not worth your concern.”
Before anyone could say another word, she hurried toward the house. She had almost reached the French doors when she spied Adam rounding the corner with a smiling Celeste clinging to his arm.
Susanna shivered as his questioning gaze met hers, his eyes intensely brown and piercing. She stepped inside quickly, trying not to slam the doors behind her.