“Aunt, might I introduce my dear friend, Lady Susanna? She is the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Somerset.” She then gestured back to her aunt. “Susanna, this is my aunt, Lady Kilthorn. Her husband is the Earl of Kilthorn, which is a place somewhere in Scotland… I confess, I do not know where!”
Her aunt let out a bright laugh at this remark, making Susanna smile. “I suppose that you are right and I cannot berate you for such a remark, even though I thought I made it abundantly clear – on more than one occasion – which part of Scotland we hail from!” She turned her bright eyes toward Susanna. “I am very glad to meet you. I think you will bring great comfort to my niece this Season, since you are to traverse the Season together. I presume you are also seeking a match?”
Susanna nodded. “Yes, this is my second Season.”
“But as the daughter of a Duke, you will have many gentlemen pursuing you!” Lady Kilthorn said, her frankness both a surprise and somewhat refreshing. “You will have to be careful to ascertain which of them are interested in pursuing you solely because of theirinterest in you as opposed to their interest in your standing and connections.”
“And fortune,” Ellen added, as Susanna flushed. “We became dear friends last Season, did we not? We know all of each other’s secrets!”
Susanna smiled at this, but inwardly, she flinched a little. She had not told Lady Ellen about Lord Lancashire, had not told anyone about all that had taken place. Perhaps she should have done so, for then her heart might not hold so much upset, but now, she considered, it was probably a little too late.
“I shall have to make sure you have as much opportunity to build upon this friendship as you can,” Lady Kilthorn smiled, as Ellen slipped her arm through Susanna’s. “Might I suggest a turn about the room? It would put you in the path of many a fine gentleman.”
Quite sure that her mother would not even notice her absence, Susanna agreed at once. Walking together through the crowd of guests, Lady Kilthorn pointed out one gentleman after another, telling both Susanna and Ellen who they were and whether or not she would recommend a connection. Susanna began to smile, the weight of the previous Season loosening its grip. It would be difficult, certainly, but perhaps she would be able to find herself happy this year all the same.
“Oh, and there is a relation of mine! The Marquess of Lancashire. Are you at all acquainted with him?”
Susanna’s heart shattered in her chest as her gaze fell upon Lord Lancashire. He stood just as she remembered — tall, broad-shouldered, his dark hair swept back from a face that was at once achingly familiar and impossibly distant. He was paying close attention to something anothergentleman was saying, nodding slowly as his brow furrowed, and the sight of that frown, those eyes she had once gazed into with such tenderness, sent a wave of grief through her so fierce she feared her knees might buckle. Snatching in a breath, she turned her gaze away, afraid that he would see her. Afraid, too, of what her own face might betray, for the emotions surging through her were so tangled — fury and longing and the sharp, bright sting of betrayal — that she could not have schooled her features even if she had tried.
“Are you quite all right?” Ellen spoke quietly, her eyes watching Susanna’s carefully. “Is there something wrong?”
Unable to find the strength to pretend, Susanna gave a minute shake of her head, and Ellen, without asking any questions, turned to her aunt. “I have already found myself connected to your cousin,” she said, her lips pulling flat. “That worked out very poorly indeed, so I am afraid I have no interest in any further connection.”
Lady Kilthorn chuckled and then, much to Susanna’s relief, gestured for them both to continue around the ballroom. “Very well,” she said, as Susanna mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to Ellen. “You make a very good point, and I shall make certain not to introduce you to any other relatives.”
They made their way to another group of gentlemen and ladies and, with encouragement from Lady Kilthorn, stopped so that they might gain introductions. As she did so, Susanna continued to feel Ellen’s curious gaze flicking to her now and again, but now was not the time for her to explain all. Soon, she realized, she would have to tell Ellen everything about Lord Lancashire, about all that he had promised, about all she had felt and howthoroughly he had broken her… and just how much confusion and sorrow surged through her now that she knew Lord Lancashire was present in London.
2
“Are you quite sure?” Jonathan frowned, searching his friend’s face. “That sounds like a ridiculous amount to wager on a single horse race!”
“I am very sure!” Lord Kettering exclaimed as Jonathan’s brother, the Earl of Tunbridge, rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Lord Wishart is the most ridiculous fellow.”
Jonathan shook his head. “I do not think I can believe it. When is this race to take place?”
“The day after tomorrow,” Lord Kettering informed him. “Will you want to attend?”
Considering this, Jonathan nodded. “Yes, I think I would, if only to verify the amount Lord Wishart had placed upon this grey of his.”
Lord Kettering chuckled and shrugged. “Very well, I shall take no offence that you do not believe me completely. It is a ridiculous sum.”
“Enough to ruin a gentleman, if the horse does not achieve success,” Lord Tunbridge added. “Now, enough conversation about horses and foolish wagers. Are we not to dance this evening?” His eyes went to the crowd, alightingon one face and then another. “There are so many beauties present, I am quite determined to dance nearly every dance!”
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “I shall not join you.”
“No?”
The question made Jonathan frown. He had not told his brother anything about last Season nor the way his heart had been stolen by Lady Susanna. He had no intention of doing so either. There was no need for anyone to know of his foolishness. At the same time, he did not think he wanted to pursue any other young lady either, even though duty demanded it of him. He would have to marry to produce the required heir, although mayhap another year of bachelorhood would not cause any great concern. Whilst he did not think that he still loved Lady Susanna, he was certainly still injured over all that he had learned since then.
And there was the guilt — a low, persistent ache that had settled into his chest the moment he had walked away from her and had refused to leave since. He had not given her a reason. He had not spoken to her, had not explained himself, had simply retreated into silence and let that silence speak for him. What must she think of him? That he was a cad, a liar, a gentleman who toyed with a lady’s heart and then cast it aside? The thought sickened him, but it was no less than he deserved. He had made his choice, and he had made it badly.
“You have not answered me, my friend.” Lord Kettering lifted an eyebrow. “You are not going to dance this evening?” His other eyebrow rose to join the first. “Or at all this Season?”
Jonathan scowled. “I am not yet decided. At the present moment, I have no interest in dancing.”
“And why not?” his brother asked, shifting slightly sothat he stood next to Lord Kettering rather than beside Jonathan, giving the impression that he was very much in alignment with Lord Kettering – much to Jonathan’s displeasure. “What could be holding you back from dancing with these fine young ladies this evening? You are a Marquess, after all, which means your good standing and excellent fortune will bring many a young lady to your side, I am sure!”
“And what if I do not want that?” Jonathan asked, making both his friend and his brother stare at him in astonishment. “What if I do not want to be draped with young ladies each evening?”
