“He is, he is. He is at home.” She sniffed. “Will you not ask us to sit, Ashthorpe? Here, you must have Emma sit on the sofa, and the rest of the ladies will arrange ourselves in chairs. Then you and Emma may have a coze in peace while we amuse ourselves.”
Henry asked for tea and other refreshments to be brought. “Be sure there are jam tarts,” he said to Eakins and went and sat next to Emma.
“How is your health, Miss D'Oyly?”
“Very well. And yours, Lord Ashthorpe?”
“I am very well.”
“The weather has been particularly fine.”
“Yes. Indeed.”
Lady Newland and Lady D'Oyly were talking and making occasional remarks to Charlotte, all while stealing sly glances at the sofa and its occupants.
“My mother, as you may have noticed, can be quite impulsive.” Emma raised her voice. “It was a very sudden trip. Papa did not approve.”
“Nothing would do except for Emma to come to visit my cousin,” Lady D'Oyly said. “And then nothing would do except for us to come and call on you, Lord Ashthorpe.”
Emma closed her eyes, and Henry felt a great deal of pity for her.
“I am a most fortunate old gentleman, then.” He spread his arms to include all the women. “To have four such lovely ladies in my drawing room.”
He didn’t know he had it in him. After the magic of last night and Susannah, he was suddenly a charmer himself, all butter and sugar.
Lady D’Oyly laughed. “Old? Nonsense. You are in the prime of life. Surely, you must be thinking of marrying again?”
Emma groaned quietly.
Henry had learned a bit from his enchantress about sauciness as a weapon of deflection.
“Only if you’re thinking of adding another husband to your harem, Lady D’Oyly.”
He considered adding a wink but thought that might be a step too far.
Charlotte burst into a huge laugh, her whole body shaking, and she nearly slipped out of her chair. Emma giggled. Lady Newland smiled. Lady D’Oyly had no idea how to take his comment and fumbled for her fan.
“Oh, my,” she said. “My.”
Henry turned to Emma again. “Yes, Miss D’Oyly, the weather is perfect.”
Perfect for picking strawberries with his two perfect girls. Where the hell were those jam tarts?
Susannah wanted to run up the stairs as Mina would have done. Every part of her was so alive right now, thrumming withHenry, Henry, Henry.
How he’d kissed her, held her.
Lickedher.
Completed her.
And not just with his tongue but also with his kindness, his honesty. He had shared so much with her. Yes, his body and his release. Yes, the pain of his past. But also his rare smiles, his courtesy, his granddaughter.
He had let Susannah into his life, and she would never do anything to make him regret it.
How Susannah was startled into love.
She paused her climb. To fall in love was surely a heady experience at any age. But so much more so when one had had all those years of not-love, of not falling, of not even knowing there might be a love-sized-hole for one to fall into.
