Desperately Seeking Suzanna (2 page)

Isabelle tensed at Sue’s side. “I said I was sorry. I thought I saw a servant approaching.”

“I fail to see how pushing
me
into a bush would have saved
your
skin, even if there had been a footman patrolling the gardens,” Victoria returned.

“I swear I saw it move, though.” Isabelle’s eyes were wide beneath her mask as she gave a tiny shake of her head.

“Isabelle, it was a statue, a replica of
David
. Was he going to throw down the pebble in his hand and banish us from the grounds? Really,” Sue snapped.

She’d had enough. Why hadn’t she stayed well away from the herd’s antics this evening? She could be back at her cousin’s home painting, sleeping—anything but listening to this incessant bickering. “Stop arguing! Victoria, we will find a place to repair your dress. Isabelle, stop jumping at every squeak of a floorboard. And Evie, if you squeal again, so help me, I’ll kill you. We are ladies, and we need to blend in or we’ll be thrown out on our ears.”

“Sue, calm down,” Evangeline replied with a light laugh. “We’re wearing masks. Of course we’ll blend in. How could we not? Come along.”

Evangeline led the way down the hallway, trying two doors before finding one unlocked and slipping inside. She laughed and spun around, throwing the door open for Sue and her cousins to enter. It looked to be a private parlor. The lamps were turned down to a flickering glow, which Victoria quickly brightened as she muttered, “I hope the owner of this parlor likes pink roses because if not she would run in horror.”

Bright pink. Every surface in sight was washed in it, draped in it, or otherwise covered in it. Sue blinked in surprise. Pink draperies, pink chairs, even a rug depicting blush roses adorned the floor. “It must belong to April Rutledge. No one else would abide such a wealth of one color.”

“Do you know her?” Isabelle asked.

“Only by the sight of her pink ensembles,” Sue returned. “It’s her color. I believe she owns it.”

Isabelle moved to a side table draped in pale pink fabric. “Look! There are even two bottles of champagne set out.”

Victoria joined her sister, lifting one bottle in investigation. “How thoughtful of our gracious host to provide us with champagne while we make ourselves presentable.”

“I don’t think we should…” Sue’s words were drowned out by the pop of the cork and three squeals. What had she been thinking when she’d agreed to come this evening? They were sure to be caught. If not by the missing champagne, then the squeals of delight were sure to give them away. Was there any use in attempting to halt their actions? Her family was an unstoppable force. She flopped down into a pink chair, feeling like a rancid remnant from a bakery sale in her dark rose gown and thin pelisse.

“Oh, I’m such a mess,” Evangeline exclaimed, gazing in the gilded mirror that stood in the corner of the room. She pinched her rosy cheeks and pushed her pale blue mask into place with the nudge of a finger.

Sue snorted. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been so close to perfection that a pinch of my cheeks would do anything other than increase my blotchiness.” Her head tilted to the side as she watched her younger sister primp. At times it was hard to believe they were related.

Victoria patted the ringlets on her head and touched a finger to her lips before declaring herself ready and reaching for the bottle of champagne Isabelle was holding. Passing the bottle to her twin sister, Isabelle smoothed her skirts for a moment before gazing at Sue with a combination of pity and determination.
Oh
dear.
“The last time you had that look in your eye, I ended up with a fringe of hair around my face that took over a year to grow back.”

Isabelle huffed in response, her eyes still locked on Sue. She meant well; it simply never seemed to work in Sue’s favor to be on the receiving end of her cousin’s agenda.

Sue looked away, sinking further into the chair. Perhaps if she didn’t look directly at Isabelle, her cousin would become distracted. She could hope.

“Sue.” Isabelle’s version of a pert declaration of war sounded in her ear just as a bottle of champagne was pressed into her hand.

“Yes, Isabelle?” Innocence dripped from her voice like hot wax.

“Drink a bit of that. You need it.”

Sue sighed. “I suppose if we’re going to get caught trespassing we may as well enjoy the champagne before we’re led away in chains.” With that said, she took a large gulp, allowing the bubbles to slide down her throat. She could feel some of the tension leave her body, replaced by the warm effervescence of the champagne.

“Is my mask straight?” Evangeline asked.

“Yes. You look perfect,” Sue offered without looking. “You all look lovely. Shall we go now?”

“Sue, what about your looks?” Isabelle’s voice was small and coated in a sweetness her forceful sister could never achieve.

“What of my looks?” Sue lifted her feet off the floor and held them out to properly see the entirety of her gown. She appeared fine. She always appeared fine. Fine wasn’t bad. There was nothing wrong with fine.

“Well, you look a little… Evangeline, can I have the brooch you removed?”

“Certainly. It did nothing for this ensemble anyway.” She dug into her reticule to retrieve the brooch and hand it to Isabelle.

Isabelle beckoned Sue to stand up. She wasn’t likely to be distracted from her evident plan to make Sue into an exotic beauty. Seeing no escape, Sue set the champagne down and stood—at which point Isabelle reached her hand straight into Sue’s bosom.

“What are you doing?” Sue gasped.

“Take another sip of champagne and trust me,” Isabelle commanded, gathering the fabric between her cousin’s breasts and securing it with the brooch.

Sue had never in her life exposed so much skin. Her eyes widened, but before she could speak, Victoria shoved the bottle back into her hand. Sue took another drink.

“Here. Take these feathers and fix them into her hair. I’m not going to use them after all. Essence of feathers is all I require this evening.” Victoria lifted her chin and tossed her head to show off the feathers that remained on her head.

“Oh, you don’t have to…” Sue’s words were drowned under a sea of commands to drink.

“Victoria, did you bring that rouge you got in town last week?” Isabelle asked as she inserted feathers into Sue’s hair.

“Rouge? Oh no!” Sue tried to step away, but Isabelle pulled her back within reach.

“You need a bit of color on your cheeks, Sue. And something on your lips wouldn’t hurt.”

“I don’t want to look like a light skirt, Isabelle.”

“You’ll look alluring and lovely. Just
shh
and drink.”

“Too bad we don’t have any ribbon. This dress could use some ribbon here, there, and perhaps some here.” Isabelle grabbed at the fabric of her gown, gathering it into folds and revealing triangles of a darker underskirt in the process.

“I have some black ribbon.”

Sue was starting to feel off balance as three sets of hands set to work making her presentable. Every time she complained, they told her to take another sip of champagne, which was most likely contributing to the off feeling surrounding her.

She couldn’t stop laughing at Victoria and Isabelle as they worked. They were twins. Twins were funny. She didn’t know why. Then Evangeline put something on her lips and told her to press them together. Why were her lips numb? “Numb.” That was a funny word. Numb lips and twins, numb twins. She snorted to herself. After a few minutes, Isabelle stepped back.

“Sue, I believe you’re ready for the ball.”

“I’m almost afraid to look.” Sue pushed through her family to approach the mirror in the corner. She studied her image for a moment, not recognizing the sight before her. Never before had she appeared as scandalous as she did now. In fact, she didn’t believe it possible. Even her nondescript shade of light brown hair appeared to sparkle in the flickering candlelight. She touched her lips, amazed at how dramatic the red looked against her pale skin. This must be what beauty felt like.

Her plain rose gown had been gathered in places around the skirts and on the shoulders with black ribbon tied into neat little bows. A wide ribbon now made a sash at the high waist of the gown, which only drew attention to the scandalous amount of exposed skin at her neckline.

“I don’t look like Sue a’tol. No, ladies.” She turned with a smile. “Tonight, I’m Suzanna!”

“Suzanna?” Evangeline arched a brow in her direction.

Sue twirled toward the door, the black ribbons that tacked her dress together flying around her like wisps of smoke in the night. “Yes, she is wild and irresistible to all gentlemen who lay eyes upon her.”

Isabelle giggled. “Ah. She’s your evil twin then.”

“Why is it always an
evil
twin?” Victoria scoffed. “I, for one, resent the implication. I’m not evil, Isabelle. I’m just more entertaining than you.”

Evangeline stepped between the two with a smile aimed at Sue. “I think it’s time we go downstairs and make our grand entrance.”

Perhaps tonight wouldn’t be so disastrous after all. The sound of the music floated on the air around her, lulling her with its spell. Pulled down the hallway as if in a dream, she could feel the pulse of the melody in her veins. Was it the champagne or the drugging effect of feeling truly lovely? Sue didn’t want to know the answer. She only knew tonight was special.

Tonight anything could happen. Tonight she had joined the ranks of her feline family at last.

“Tonight the world is ours! Bring the champagne on silver platters! Bring the handsome gentlemen—also on silver platters!” She giggled, not even minding the chatter of her family. Nothing could touch this magical feeling as they drew near the top of the stairs.

Torrent Hall was a grand estate built into the side of a hill that rolled down to a series of lakes visible from the terrace and south lawn. The house had remained in the same family for some generations now and had been added onto in various styles over the years. The result was a rambling estate with turning hallways and multiple stairs joining the collection of rooms that made up the home.

They’d entered through a window off the upper gardens nearest the border of Sue’s cousins’ new estate. The ballroom was tucked away at the rear of the home and one level down in a very unconventional style—much like the occupants of the house, if rumors could be believed. She knew the eldest two girls in the family by sight, but no more. They looked normal, yet there was always talk about the family.

Evangeline smoothed her skirts and glanced at her cousin beside her. “Isabelle, tug your dress down a bit and you’ll be sure to catch a gentleman’s eye with that neckline.”

“How is my neckline?” Victoria gazed down into the deep, lace-lined scoop of her gown.

“Victoria, if you pull your dress down any farther, it will be around your knees.”

“Evangeline, I’m not showing anything that ought not to be shown at a masked ball. You make me sound so tawdry! Meanwhile, you’re showing more skin than all of us put together.”

Sue turned, leveling a glare at her family that stopped their movement down the hallway. “Ladies, if it’s skin you wish to show, Suzanna will show you how it’s done.” She turned, tossing what she imagined to be a sultry smile over her shoulder as she stepped to the top of the darkened staircase leading to the ballroom on the first floor.

Wrapping her hand around the railing, she hitched up her skirts and lifted one pointed toe to her knee before flicking her foot out in a kick that exposed her stocking-clad leg to the thigh. Taking a step down, she gave the empty stairway a shimmy of her breasts and kicked her other leg out. Turning with her gown gathered in her hands at her waist, she kissed the air in front of her sister. Enjoying the laughter swirling around her, as well as the effects of the champagne, she took a few more steps down the stairs.

“Do the kick again!” Isabelle said between giggles.

“Yes, you must!” Evangeline encouraged, dabbing at what must be tears of laughter before they fell on her mask.

Sue smiled, hurried to the landing where the stairs turned to the left, and spun to face her family. She held the banister rail behind her back and allowed her arms to slip to the sides as she arched her back and shot a seductive look over her shoulder into the darkness. The girls laughed as Victoria called out, “Suzanna, you light skirt!”

Gathering the hem of her gown once more, Sue dipped one foot down to the next step as one might test cool water in a pond. Then she ran her foot up her other leg and began kicking with each step down the stairs. She paused her descent every few steps to shimmy her bosom for the enjoyment of her family. They were still laughing as she neared the bottom of the steps. She raised her skirts to the point of indecency and kicked as high as her leg would allow, attempting to finish her dance with flair.

It wasn’t until the toe of her beaded slipper met something hard that she stopped and immediately fell back onto the step behind her with a thud.

Her eyes grew wide beneath her mask as she looked up at the figure wearing black at the base of the stairs. His golden blond hair was the only bit of color shining in the dim lamplight cast from a single wall sconce. His head was bent away from her so she couldn’t see his face. Who had she injured? Had he seen her dance? She wasn’t even supposed to be here. Oh, what had she done?

“You broke my nose!” His deep voice was muffled behind his hand.

“Oh…I…I didn’t…well.” She attempted to gather her wits while her heart beat a rapid
oh
dear, oh dear, oh dear
. “If you hadn’t been hiding in the shadows watching me dance, you lecherous man, it wouldn’t have happened!”

“This is my fault, is it?” He snarled the question as he ripped a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his face with it.

At his raised voice, her family pushed past her with Evangeline in the lead, scurrying away from danger and leaving her to clean up the…blood? Was he bleeding? This could not be happening. At the last swish of Isabelle’s dress around the corner leading to the ballroom, Sue sank further onto the wooden step at her back. If she wished hard enough, could she seep through the grain of the wood and land in a puddle under the house—alone? She closed her eyes but when she opened them, she was still there on the stairs with the bleeding man. She sighed.

She must make some excuse for injuring him. Yet, for the first time in her life she struggled to force words to come to her lips. She’d never fought to find words before. Loquaciousness was one of her finer qualities, although her mother would have said quite the opposite. She opened her mouth and finally stammered, “I wasn’t aware I had an audience, you know. I only…” She waved one hand toward the stairs at her back. “And then you appeared from nowhere.”

His head was now tilted back as he tried to stem the bleeding. “I was on the way to
my
bedchamber in
my
family’s home. What are
you
doing here?”

She stiffened. “Breaking into your home” was the first thought that came to mind, but perhaps it was best to keep that information quiet. The memory of her scandalous arrival did, however, serve to strengthen her resolve. After all, if she’d survived breaking into his home and her family’s antics this evening, she would surely survive this man. “I was…descending the stairs, as you could clearly see.”

“I’ve witnessed plenty of descents over quite a few stairs, and I’ve never seen anything like that.” He pointed with his head toward the staircase behind her, his blond hair catching the dim light with the movement.

“I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment.” She watched the strands settle back into perfect array around dark green eyes. The handkerchief covered the remainder of his face, but those eyes more than made up for the loss. Sparkling with some untold inner warmth, his gaze dipped to assess her. She took a shallow breath and lifted her chin.

A slight vee appeared at his brow, which only served to draw his eyes down into an intense stare. “Who are you?”

She twitched under his examination as time seemed to stretch out in one never-ending second. Then he blinked. Long lashes covered the hardened green for a moment, like looking through tall grass on the edge of an enchanted wood. Blast it all, he was gorgeous.

Of all the gentlemen she could have injured and spent time with in a darkened hallway, why did it have to be this god-like creature with the perfect shiny hair and the captivating eyes? Oh, no. Not with her luck. With some average-looking gentleman, she would at least stand a chance of using the situation to her advantage by furthering her chances at marriage. But this man would no doubt stop bleeding and then leave her sitting on the step while he went with extreme haste to ask for a dance with a lady like Evangeline.

Someone like him would never look in the direction of someone like her.

Her eyes dipped to her skirts pooled around her feet. She was reaching to fluff them out in preparation to stand and leave him when her hand grazed over a piece of ribbon. “I’m Suzanna,” she whispered into the still air of the stairway. It was more a reminder of how she was dressed and what she had done than a pronouncement of her identity, but he heard her all the same.

“Suzanna,” he repeated. “I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I must admit I had more pleasure in mind a few minutes ago than I do now since you’ve kicked me in the face.” He gave her a bow with as much flourish as possible with one hand clasped to his nose. “I’m Holden Ellis, Lord Steelings.”

She’d heard a few ladies sigh the name “Steelings” over the years but had never met the gentleman in question. He was said to be living surrounded by the theatrical sort in Paris—which she was fairly certain was a nice way of saying French ladies of the night. He must have returned for the season. And now she’d broken his nose.

“May I do something? About your nose, I mean?”

“You haven’t done enough?” He quirked a brow in her direction.

“You must allow me to make amends somehow.”

He ignored her as he adjusted the handkerchief at his nose.

She sat forward on the step, arching her neck to gain his attention once more as she added, “I want to help you. Please.”

His gaze snapped back to hers as if he was struck. Why would her offer of help have affected him so? Her eyes narrowed on him beneath her mask, trying to comprehend his actions.

“Very well,” he replied, extending his hand to help her to her feet. Was he smiling beneath that handkerchief? What did he now find so amusing? He was injured, for goodness’ sake.

She considered him for a second before placing her fingers within his grasp. His grip was solid as his long fingers curled around hers. He moved to pull her to her feet, which clearly didn’t take the strength he’d allotted for the motion because she slammed into his broad chest. Her hand came up to keep her from traveling forward and landed on his stomach. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers.

She heard his intake of breath. “Damn, you’re small.” His voice rumbled through her, setting all her nerves on edge.

She tried to step away from him. However, the edge of the bottom step was just behind her. Needing to put space between them, she pulled her hand away from his body and stood as straight as possible. But with his hand still wrapped around hers and no place to move, she found she was now staring directly into his chest, her breasts grazing the fabric of his coat with every ragged breath.

Why was his warm hand still engulfing hers? And why wouldn’t he take a step away from her? This was the closest she’d ever stood to a gentleman. Was this what it felt like to dance a waltz with a man? Four seasons and she’d never had the experience.

“How did someone so small inflict so much damage upon me?” His words danced with warmth across the top of her head, tickling strands of her hair as he spoke.

“I do endeavor to live larger than my size. Perhaps in this case I overdid it a bit.” Her voice came out in a nervous squeak. He was so close, so handsome, so tall, and obviously so upset with her.

Then he began laughing. It was a well-used laugh and shook the tension from her shoulders. She looked up into his eyes and smiled. He was still close, still handsome, and still ever so much taller than her, but now with laughter softening his eyes, he didn’t frighten her anymore. Of course, that opened the door for other, more dangerous emotions she chose not to name while in a darkened hallway with the man in question. Her palm began to sweat beneath his grasp and she wiggled it free before he noticed.

“My vision is a bit blurred. Would you mind accompanying me up the stairs so I can clean this up?”

“Certainly, my lord.”

“It’s Holden. I believe we moved past formalities when you flashed your nether regions at me and broke my nose.”

She laughed as she turned and put a foot on the first step. “I suppose you’re right. I apologize. This is all rather new for me.”

“Ah, so you don’t roam the countryside in search of noses to bludgeon.”

“No, only yours.”

“I feel so special.”

She held her arm out for him to steady himself on the journey upstairs; however that clearly wasn’t what he had in mind as the weight of his arm fell across her shoulders. He wrapped his hand around the exposed skin at her neck. The warmth of him surrounded her, making her shudder.
Don’t be silly, Sue. You’re only assisting a gentleman you injured.

“Would you mind placing your arm around my back? Stairways are treacherous things.” There was a teasing note to his voice that she didn’t understand.

Stairways were dangerous. Many people were injured on stairways. She didn’t see the humor in the situation, but he didn’t explain his amusement further. She slipped her hand behind his back, tucking her body closer to his in the process. “Of course. Is that better?” she asked, glancing up at him as they took another step together.

“Yes, quite.” His grin was growing beneath the handkerchief. She could see it reflected in his eyes. He shifted his hand on her neck as they took another step. His thumb grazed the side of her neck in a gentle caress.

Her breath caught in her throat. It had been a clear attempt to tighten his grasp on her to keep from falling. Yet, even knowing this, she fought to keep from leaning into his touch. What was wrong with her addled mind?

They took another step. The abrasion of his coat against her skin and the weight of his arm began to wear on her ability to speak. Only instead of making her weary, they were creating an energy inside her that begged for freedom. Her mouth turned dry. Licking her lips and tasting the lip color with her tongue, she asked, “Where am I leading you?”

“To my bedchamber.”

She almost missed the next step and had to tighten her grip on his waist to keep from stumbling. “To your…oh.”

“Not to worry. I have no sordid intentions at the moment.” However, the sentiment didn’t quite ring true by the look in his eyes. There was something there, something she’d never seen before.

What was happening? She knew his motivations couldn’t be sordid—not with her anyway. She forced her mind to work, to make sense of her situation. “I didn’t assume your intentions were less than honorable. I’m only concerned over how it might look to others.”

“You mean the friends who abandoned you when you injured me? They’ll think you’re caring for the poor gentleman you wounded.” He paused at the top of the staircase and looked down at her. His fingers traced thoughtless circles on her shoulder as he spoke. “Who else will know?”

No one would know. It was only the two of them and she had already come this far unscathed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Who else will know?” She relaxed and smiled up at him. “Which door is yours?”

“Just there on the left.” Although they were up the stairs, he didn’t release her. He held her close until they crossed the threshold into his suite. The door closed behind them. He closed the door? This wasn’t proper in the least.

She took a shallow breath. His hand dropped from her only to turn up the lamp he’d left burning on the table just inside the door. As he moved across the room to light another, she turned to assess his bedchamber. Much could be told about someone by their bedchamber, and she was more than curious about Holden.

The room was dripping in opulent greens over tan brocade wall coverings. Heavy furnishings carved with intricate swirls and leaves filled the floor space on top of a thick rug. Her eyes drifted up to the fireplace on the far wall.

Her gaze, however, halted on the painting above his fireplace.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it? I found it in a shop while in London on a visit a few years ago and had it brought here. There is something about this artist. The way in which he captures the light… His identity is a mystery, you know. I wished to have more work commissioned, but the shop owner wouldn’t pass on his information. SAG is all anyone knows.”

She swallowed. Holden Ellis, Lord Steelings, had purchased her landscape of the countryside near her home? She shook her head in wonder as her mouth fell open. A few years ago, she’d begun selling some of her paintings to a shop owner she’d befriended in London. She knew her paintings sold, but to see one here, now, in his bedchamber, was beyond unexpected.

“Yes. I’m familiar with this artist’s work,” she hedged.

“Are you? A lover of art?”

“You could say that.” She swallowed, lacing her fingers together before her to have something to do with her hands.

“I have a few more by this artist at my home in London.”

“Do you?” She pulled her gaze from the painting to look at him. He had more of her paintings?

“Perhaps you can come and see them sometime.” He watched her as he began pulling at the knot of his cravat.

“Perhaps.” She had to look away from him. This was dangerous. She knew it, but she couldn’t make her feet move to leave, nor could she look away from him. He held her there, captive under his beautiful spell.

Finally, he broke the connection when he ducked behind the leather screen set up in the corner to repair the damage she’d inflicted to his face. His coat came flying out to land on a chair a moment later. He was undressing—with Sue in the room.

She blushed and searched for something to say so as not to think about it any further. “This isn’t your only home then?” She paused before adding, “You mentioned a home in London.”

The shirt he’d been wearing was flung over the screen to land beside his coat. “This is my uncle’s home, actually. But he allows me room here and has for many years.”

“Oh. It’s quite nice.” She turned, trying to focus her attention anywhere but on the half-naked man behind the screen in the corner. Her eyes landed on a wardrobe beside her. “I especially like the, um, carving on the furniture.”

“Thank you. It’s French. I found it while I was away and had it shipped here. I’m rather fond of it.” The sound of water splashing in a basin punctuated the end of his statement.

Lovely. Now she was envisioning the body she’d accidentally touched earlier covered in droplets of water.

Spotting a decanter of some liquid across the room, she moved to pour a drink. Her nerves were in shreds from the events of this evening, and the effects of the champagne were beginning to wear off. She didn’t care at the moment what was in that bottle; she only knew she needed it to strengthen her spine if she was to make it out of this to safety. Pouring a glass full of the liquor, she tossed it in her mouth, the heat of it burning its way down her throat. She set the glass down. Perhaps the drink had been a mistake. Her insides felt as if they were on fire.