Desperately Seeking Suzanna (5 page)

Sue wouldn’t know. She’d gone straight to bed last night although she hadn’t slept at all once there. Her eyes burned from the tears even now. She closed her eyes for a long blink, savoring the darkness. But when Holden’s face swam through her thoughts, she snapped her eyes open. Tired eyes were better than seeing his face again. She refused to think about him for another second today. It was over. Done.

Taking a large bite of the bread in her hand, she allowed the warmth to melt on her tongue and slide down her throat. It was the first morsel of food she’d ever been allowed to eat without listening to a lecture in return. She licked a crumb from her lips and settled further into the cushions of the armchair, curling her feet underneath her. She’d spent years starving for half of the food Evangeline was allowed to eat.

Only a few months ago, her mother had berated Sue, grabbing a cake from her hand and giving it to Evangeline. “Evangeline is a head taller than you, Sue. She needs more sustenance. Besides, you could stand to lose a bit around the middle if you ever want to catch someone’s eye.”

Sue remembered looking down and smoothing her hands over her waist as she uttered, “Yes, Mother.” She hadn’t been able to bear watching Evangeline eat that last tea cake with her stomach so empty.

“It is a shame you aren’t fortunate enough to have your sister’s figure. She takes after me in that way.” Her mother had lifted Evangeline’s chin with one long finger, smiling down into her upturned face. “I knew when you were but a child that you would be special.”

Apparently, “special” meant possessing flawless beauty and doing as one was told. Sue shook off the memory with a roll of her eyes and looked out the window, watching the breeze blow through the trees beyond the Fairlyns’ well-kept lawn and smiling as she licked a crumb from her finger.

The sad truth was that every bite that passed Sue’s lips could equal a feast for her long-limbed sister. She’d been cursing her lack of height and curvy body for years. If she looked like Evangeline, then perhaps things would be different—perhaps last night would have ended under happier circumstances. Her throat tightened and she set her jaw against the emotion.

Alas, she took after her father’s side of the family who navigated the world on cunning and family titles, not like her mother and sister who could acquire anything they wanted with a smile. There was no sense in being upset over the long-known fact; Sue was plain.

She ignored the voice in her head calling her beautiful—a voice that rang out in Holden’s deep tones. She sniffed to keep from crying again. He hadn’t found her beautiful without a mask. He hadn’t even recognized her. The hurt of it had receded from a sharp slice to a dull ache, tearing at her heart every time she thought of it. So, she wouldn’t be thinking about it anymore.

So far, her efforts had been quite unsuccessful, but she was endeavoring to try harder. The masquerade ball did have its purposes after all, for now she was allowed to eat for the first time in her life. Her newfound freedom came at the price of Mother finally giving up on her. Although there was a fraction of sadness over this occurrence, there was also relief.

She reached for another piece of bread, watching her mother instruct Mary to place more pins in Evangeline’s gown. Supervising the maid as she drew the fabric up between her fingers, her mother then tugged on the gown until it draped in pristine folds from Evangeline’s thin shoulders. Then she batted Mary’s hands away, dropping the fabric as she made another attempt at perfection.

“No, no, no! This will not do! That modiste may claim French blood, but her fitting skills are abhorrent.”

“It looks perfect to me,” Sue offered, never understanding why her mother was so upset. Sue’s gowns fit
fine
and had been put away out of sight weeks ago. “And perhaps after the nine hours we spent in her shop trying on gown after gown, she’d grown a bit weary by the time she reached that particular ensemble.” Who could blame the poor woman? Sue grew bored of it after a few minutes.

This afternoon it seemed she should have kept her opinions to herself, for her mother shot her a dark look from across the room. Turning back to her work, she tossed out, “You only think it perfect because you have no eye for fashion, darling.”

Evangeline gave one silent shake of laughter, because ladies do not snort aloud. With a whispered “the poor dear,” she put a hand to her mouth to contain her smile.

Sue listened to them giggle with a pang of annoyance. She popped the last of the bread in her mouth, seeking comfort in its softness.

Mother dismissed the maid and backed away from Evangeline, assessing her work as she spoke in a carrying voice. “Of course, with the ensemble I found Sue wearing last night, she would be a welcome addition to any brothel.”

Evangeline went still. Her eyes flashed in Sue’s direction in the mirror. Evangeline knew it had been her idea to attend, yet she would never utter a word of support for Sue in front of their mother. Sue had known she would regret attending that ball. For a time while there, she’d thought otherwise. How wrong she’d been. Holden Ellis, Lord Steelings, was a lecherous rake, and she’d fallen for every line of his prose.
Idiot!
She blamed it on the champagne…and her sister. It appeared now she must pay for her crimes. She returned her mother’s gaze as if staring down a wild animal on the attack.

“Sue, we do need to discuss your activities of last night. Your father and I have conversed on the matter and made some decisions on your behalf.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sue braced herself for the verbal lashing that was to come. Surely that’s all this was. That’s all it ever was. A few minutes of how disappointing she was as a daughter and it would be over. Only…“decisions on her behalf” did sound rather ominous. Her fingers curled into balls as she drew her arms around herself, waiting.

Her mother moved closer, taking slow steps while her eyes never swerved from Sue. The swirl of her mother’s deep blue gown moved in like storm clouds as she descended on Sue with a downpour of disapproval. “I’ve been thinking about your prospects this season.”

Sue didn’t know she had prospects. She sat up a little straighter in her seat. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so horrible.

“Let us speak openly, darling. You are not likely to find a husband this year.”

Sue sank back down into the chair. “That’s a bit too open, if I can speak openly on that subject as well.”

“I had long hoped we could find you a match this year. An old gentleman more in need of a caretaker than a wife or a gentleman with some abnormality…perhaps even someone’s destitute fourth son by the season’s end.” She sighed. “However, after seeing you dressed as you were last night…”

“Can’t we move beyond this? I thought we were to discuss my prospects.” Sue tried to entice her mother to cut short her ranting with the discussion of the season that lay ahead. It was a sound plan if she could control her tongue—which she couldn’t. “And it was a masquerade. I was dressed appropriately for the occasion. Mask, ball gown, dancing slippers…”

“Rooo-oouge?”

How did she manage to turn one syllable into four? This ability had always impressed Sue.

Sue sighed. “Even still, Mother. There were many others there dressed in similar attire. I was particularly fond of the ribbon embellishments. One would think you would be glad of my newfound interest in fashion.”

Her mother drew back in consternation, her dark eyes turning round as saucers. “The women there dressed in a similar fashion were of the demimonde. Light skirts. Paramours.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m light of skirt.” Sue ignored the heat of a blush creeping up her neck, for that was exactly what she had been in Holden’s arms.

“You were certainly dressed for the role, Sue Green.” Her mother placed her hands on her waist, rapping her nails against her corseted middle as she spoke. “At a ball when you were to be at home. Disgracing your cousins’ family name when they are new to the neighborhood. I will not have a daughter of mine seem to be sinking into a life of ill repute.”

“That’s very well since I have no desire to join the ranks of the demimonde. I want to be wed, Mother.” Surely there was some gentleman out there for her, even if he was old with eyesight so dim he couldn’t see her beyond his large belly. Find her that gentleman. He would do.

“It matters not what you want in life, Sue. We must play the hand of cards we are dealt. Unfortunately, this crumb-covered, woefully mediocre facade is your hand.”

Sue tried not to be hurt by her mother’s words. Something tightened within her. Was it her broken heart or her resolve? Either way it caused her fists to clamp, leaving crescent-shaped indentations in her palms. “It
does
matter what I want. It matters to me.”

“A gentleman’s wishes are all that matter in this life, darling.” Her mother’s lips pinched down to a wrinkled blotch of disgust. “A sentiment you appeared to be quite familiar with last evening. Which is why your father has made the decision to send you to Aunt Mildred’s at the end of this season. She requires a companion and you won’t be able to destroy the respectability of the family name while living in the wilds of Scotland.”

Silence fell in the room; even the rustling of Evangeline’s gown ceased.

Sue pulled back as if she’d been hit, and truthfully it felt as if she had. Mother wanted her to give up on the dream of marriage to become Great-Aunt Mildred’s companion? She blinked up into her mother’s hardened face, searching for understanding in the thin lines at the corners of her eyes. When Sue finally spoke, her voice was as small and insignificant as she’d always been in her mother’s eyes. “You want to send me away to Scotland for dressing inappropriately one evening?”

“I believe we both know this isn’t the result of one evening. Last night’s little stunt simply advanced the issue we have with you. The truth is that this family can’t shelter, feed, and clothe you forever, and Auntie was so kind to make this offer some time ago.” She shook her head and gazed down at Sue. “Your father had held out hope that you would find a match, but we can’t afford to have you bring shame upon the family. I’m sure you understand.”

Sue’s head ached from attempting to understand any of this. “Is that the life you want for me?”

“Heavens no, Sue. I want you to be married,” her mother said breezily with a casual wave of her hand.

Sue almost relaxed, but she knew better when it came to matters involving her mother. Instead she sat and waited for the inevitable contradiction proving why she couldn’t have the life she so desired. And today, she didn’t have long to wait.

“But since that doesn’t seem likely at this point, we must make difficult decisions.”

There it was: the truth of her situation according to her mother. She tried to breathe.
Remain
calm, Sue.
“Decisions to send me away to live with Great-Aunt Mildred. She’s the one who can’t abide sweets, isn’t she?”

“She has an intolerant constitution, it’s true.”

“The Scottish Highlands with only an old lady who has an intolerant constitution for company?”

“Yes, but do try not to talk her ear off.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed on Sue. “I know how grating that can be.”

A lifetime without decent conversation or sweets? Sue could only blink in response.

“It’s only something to think over…an eventuality to become accustomed to, should you not succeed this season.”

The room swam before her eyes. Was this happening? She blinked up into her mother’s face. “I can’t believe this.”

“Neither can I, darling. But until last night, I couldn’t imagine you gaining enough attention to dishonor our family. I suppose we were both wrong.”

“That’s not precisely what I meant. Mother, you can’t mean this. Great-Aunt Mildred is awful. I attribute her disagreeable temperament to the distinct lack of chocolate in her daily routine. Enduring her for only an afternoon is enough.”

“Oh, my darling Sue.” Her mother looked down on Sue as if she were a half-starved dog in the streets, wet and pitiful. “Perhaps you can ply her with the sweets you so adore once you are her companion, and the two of you will be quite happy together.”

“You’re truly sending me away?” Sue’s voice cracked as the words were ripped from her throat. She tried to swallow, finally finishing in a whisper, “This can’t be.”

“Not until the end of the season, dear, so there’s no reason to fret.”

“No reason to fret,” Sue repeated with her mouth, although no sound accompanied the movement. Her gaze dropped to the floor. Oh, no fretting at all; there was only the small inconvenience of being tossed from her home. She swallowed and lifted her eyes to her mother, who was apparently still talking.

“You will have to leave behind the niceties you’ve become accustomed to, like the drawings and such. I’m quite certain Auntie wouldn’t permit such excesses. And you’ll have no need of your ball gowns. Of course your ball gowns never suited you to begin with, based on the way you decorated yourself last night. That ensemble was more suited to someone else…” She smiled, her thin lips curling up into sharp points. “…Someone like Suzanna?”

How did she know? Sue’s eyes flew to Evangeline. She watched as a blush crept up her sister’s face, her eyes averted in the mirror as she fumbled with a fold on her gown. “Mama, these pins are sticking me.”

“Oh, yes, my precious. I didn’t mean to become so preoccupied with your sister. Let’s get you out of that gown.”

Sue gaped at her mother’s retreating form. After four failed seasons, she would either find a suitor this year or be shipped away from everything she knew to keep Great-Aunt Mildred company…for the remainder of her life?

She looked down at the crumbs covering her faded muslin day dress. It was true she had no marriage prospects. There didn’t seem to be many options open to her, other than what her mother suggested. She certainly couldn’t stay unwed and with her mother forever—compared to that future, one spent with her great-aunt was looking quite lovely.

Was being a paid relation to a bitter old woman the best she could hope for in life?

She flicked a stray crumb from her knee with a finger, watching it fall onto an abandoned drawing of a ball gown lying on the floor. Her family certainly thought her worthy of the occupation. Or perhaps some charming gentleman would choose her this year, but she knew that wouldn’t happen—not to her. One corner of her mouth turned up in a wry smile. Her last season. She would attempt to enjoy this last summer knowing that in the end she would leave. Forever.