Desperately Seeking Suzanna (6 page)

Brooke House Asylum, London

March 27, 1816

The cool breeze whipped through her loose hair and pinned the thin dress to her body as she slipped around the corner into the alley. Henrietta had lost count of the years she’d been locked within those walls. She laid a hand on the bricks at her side to steady herself. The wall was warm. She turned, squinting up into the afternoon sun. She’d been inside so long, she’d forgotten what the heat of the sun felt like on her skin.

“Warmth,” she whispered. Most of her life was a blur, as if seeing years through a thick fog, but she did know one thing: she would never return to Brooke House Asylum.

The front door of the asylum creaked open and footsteps shuffled onto the stone steps. Someone must have noticed she was missing. Henrietta flattened herself to the bricks at her back, her breath catching in her throat as she held herself tight to the wall.

“Henrietta Ellis is not accounted for within the building.” Doctor Monro’s sharp tones crept down her spine, making the hair rise on the back of her neck.

“She didn’t get past me, Doc. You have my word,” the guard’s voice rumbled through the street.

“If she didn’t pass you, where do you suppose she’s hiding?”

“Last time she was in the kitchen. Could have gone there again, I suppose. Or there was the time with the broom cupboard, or the gate behind the mews.”

“Insolent…” The rest of Doctor Monro’s insult was drowned out by the sound of carriage wheels rolling down the street.

The sound of horse hooves grew louder as the conveyance neared the mouth of the alley. If she could reach the carriage, she could be away from this place for good. Could she get to the back of the vehicle before the guard or the doctor reached her? She took a breath and glanced down at her slippered feet. There was no hope of making it on foot. Perhaps she could have run for freedom in her youth, but not now. Her nostrils flared as she tested her legs, rocking to the side for a moment before taking off down the alley.

She moved at a slow lumber at best as she tried to catch the carriage before it passed. Wheels turned before her as she paused beside it, preparing to jump for the boot on the rear of the conveyance and her only hope at life.

“There she is, Doc!”

“Seize her!”

She lifted her arms toward the carriage in preparation to pull herself to the perch on the back as she’d seen young grooms do in her youth.

“No, Henrietta! You can’t leave.”

She reached for the rear of the vehicle, slipping on the mud in the street but straining to hold on to the freedom so close to her grasp. Her age-worn fingers wrapped around the spring iron as she braced her upper body on the boot. A grin covered her face as she lifted her feet and clung to the carriage. She was free.

“You’re sick! You endanger yourself with this!”

Henrietta glanced back at the doctor and guard, now standing in the middle of the street and shrinking smaller and smaller into the distance. She’d done it. After all these years, she was leaving. She didn’t know where this coach was traveling, but wherever it was it had to be closer to her son than she’d been while residing within the walls of the asylum.

The memory of her son’s face was imprinted on her heart. He was her first thought every morning and her last thought every night. And now she could be with him forever, just the two of them…as things were meant to be. Holden would be so pleased.

Sue’s mother climbed into the coach opposite Sue and Evangeline and sat down with a huff that shook the whole conveyance. Her eyes were fixed on Evangeline as she spoke. “Can you imagine? Packing your peach silk gown in with Sue’s things? The nerve of that maid!” She thumped the ornamental cane in her hand on the floor one time for emphasis. “You would have been a wrinkled mess if I hadn’t stopped her. Mark my words, she’ll think twice before laying a finger on your finery again, Evangeline. You can rest assured of that fact.”

Poor Mary. The Fairlyns had done their best in offering the Greens the use of one of their upstairs maids for their stay. However, that wasn’t enough for Mother. She’d insulted the poor woman throughout their entire visit. Mary was most likely breathing a large sigh of relief now that they were rolling down the drive toward London. Still, Sue felt she should at least try to put things right for the maid. She didn’t want anyone losing their employment because of her mother’s ridiculous demands.

“Mother, my trunk was mostly empty. I was the one who offered the space to Mary. She was upset that all of Evangeline’s gowns wouldn’t fit in the trunks for us to travel. I hope you weren’t too hard on her. She was only trying to help.”

“I don’t want Evangeline’s gowns packed with yours.” Her mother recoiled, the feathers on her hat twitching with her outrage. “Your things are always covered in paint and dirt from some field. This is your sister’s come-out season. All must be perfect. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does. I want Evangeline to find happiness in life.”

“Thank you, Sue,” Evangeline offered while studying her gloved hands folded in her lap.

“Neatly pressed, clean gowns will bring Evangeline happiness. Isn’t that right, darling?”

“Yes, Mother.” But the sentiment didn’t quite ring true in Evangeline’s eyes. Sadness rimmed the pools of crystal blue. Evangeline had avoided Sue ever since her betrayal last week. Sue took hope for her sister’s future that somewhere deep inside, Evangeline seemed to feel some nagging sense of regret over telling their mother about Suzanna and sealing Sue’s doom for the remainder of her life.

Mother didn’t seem to notice the change in Evangeline, though. She was too focused on ball gowns and planning what lord she could lure into the family. “Once we arrive in town, our schedules will be quite full. Sue, there will be no time for your silliness with those drawings of yours. I can’t have you seen about town with smudges of this and that on your arms. That’s what drove away…”

“Lord Amberstall. I’m aware, Mother.”

“Well, it bears repeating. Evangeline, I’ve made a list of available gentlemen who would suit well for you.”

“Did you make me a list as well, Mother?”

“I simply didn’t have the time for that, Sue. There were so many preparations to make, you know.”

“I see.” Sue focused on the passing scenery, trying to tune out the discussion of Evangeline’s marriage prospects.

“Evangeline, look over this list and remember the names.” Mother handed Evangeline a piece of parchment and settled back into her seat. “When introductions are made, I want you to already know their rank in society, ancestral lineage, and interests. We have plenty of time on the ride to London, so let us begin with my first choice for you.”

“Yes, Mother. First on the list is…Lord Steelings.”

Sue choked. Clearing her throat, she turned to see the panic-stricken look on her sister’s face. She must know he was the man at the base of the stairs. She had to know they’d danced together. Now, he would be involved with Evangeline?

“Ah, yes. He is the perfect choice for you, Evangeline. He’s but a viscount now—courtesy title, you know.” Mother wrinkled her nose in distaste. She had no use for anyone less than an earl like Father. “However, when his father passes, he will be a marquess! His cousins are the Fairlyns’ new neighbors. So, of course, just for you, dear, I called on his aunt and mentioned you while we were visiting. I wouldn’t doubt that his attentions will be turned on you these next few weeks.”

She smiled, smoothing the folds of her skirt, clearly pleased with her preparations. “I know a viscount title is not the highest in the land, but his father is quite well positioned. And I’ve heard his estate is quite fine indeed. It’s said to have a nature walk and a lake. Just the place for my darling daughter to throw parties one day. Can you imagine?”

“Mother, I…um…wouldn’t want to spend the remainder of my days on an estate such as that. I…I don’t like the water.” Evangeline’s words rushed out, betraying the small lie in her reasoning.

“Don’t stutter, Evangeline. You know how I despise that. But as for your objection, I hear Lord Steelings hardly ever visits his father. And once you do move there, the grandness will more than make up for any hesitation over water being about. You will do well, my girl.”

“Oh. I’m pleased you think so.” Evangeline’s hands tightened into fists in her lap.

“Let us move on to Lord Steelings’ interests.”

Sue didn’t want to hear any more. She turned to look out the window. What a lovely…field. It was ever so…green. And look, there’s a stone wall. And another…field. Ah, a tree—how nice.

Despite her efforts, her mother’s voice still penetrated her thoughts. “From what I gather, he is quite interested in travel and…”

“French trollops,” Sue supplied under her breath as she kept her focus on the passing scenery.

“Sue Green! We do not speak of such things! He may have spent time abroad but he is home now, and we will not speak of the background of a gentleman who could very well be your brother-in-law soon.”

Sue turned, leveling a glare at her mother. “They’ve yet to even meet, Mother.”

“Sue, I will not hear one more word from you, or the end of your season will begin rather soon.” Her mother’s thin eyebrows had climbed all the way to her hairline, making her eyes bulge from her face.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sue ground out through a clenched jaw.

“Now, where was I? Ah yes, Lord Steelings’ interests. According to his aunt, he is quite interested in antiquities and has a sizable art collection.”

“Wouldn’t he be more appropriate for Sue, then? With the interest in art and all,” Evangeline offered in a small voice, causing Sue’s head to whip around to regard her sister.

“Heavens no. Sue could never catch his attention. He’s quite handsome, you know. I met him some years ago and have had my eye on him for you ever since.”

“I see.” Evangeline swallowed, the muscles in her slender neck tightening—her only sign of emotion.

“And he will see as well, my beautiful girl. If he likes art, he will adore you. Your beauty outshines any swirl of paint.”

Sue released the breath she’d been holding and attempted to unclench the knot in her stomach. Holden didn’t collect just any swirls of paint. He owned
her
swirls of paint. She glanced again at her sister sitting at her side with the morning sun twinkling in her dark hair. She did outshine Sue—in every way imaginable.

“Thank you, Mother,” Evangeline said with natural grace. She looked down at her knees as she continued, “Might I ask when I will meet Lord Steelings?”

“I’m sure he’s invited to the Dillsworth ball. It’s quite the crush every year, you know. Sue is certainly aware of that. After four failed seasons, she should be, anyway.”

Sue didn’t answer. There was no retort to give. It was true. She’d come to London and failed to find a husband four years in a row. Now it seemed she would be forced to not only see Holden again but to also watch him court her sister. Her last season in London was shaping up to be a rather dreary experience. Perhaps this was life’s way of preparing her for what was to come. She blinked into the weak morning sun.

Or perhaps this was her last chance to enjoy herself in society before that life began. She tried to smile, but her lips refused to move. One thing was certain: she would be staying as far away as possible from Holden Ellis, Lord Steelings.

***

Holden didn’t know many things about life in general at this point, but he knew this: he needed a drink.

Had he truly changed his travel plans to return to London in time for the Dillsworth ball? Yes, he had. Had he, with a sane mind, canceled his arrangements with the well-endowed redhead in the tavern near Torrent? Yes, he had. Had he traveled all the way back to town on the word of a chit barely out of the schoolroom that Suzanna would be at the ball tonight? He ran a hand through his hair with a small groan. Yes, indeed he had.

He threw open the door to White’s gentlemen’s club and breathed in the sweet smell of smoke and liquor. It smelled like freedom—freedom from ladies with their lies, taunts, and disappearing acts. A grin spread across his face as he made his way toward the bar.

“Steelings!”

Holden turned at the familiar deep rumble of his friend’s voice. Devon Grey, Duke of Thornwood, was the only one who could have kept him from the soothing burn of a drink for a single second. He offered a wide smile in greeting as he moved past a cluster of gentlemen to join his friend.

They’d become fast friends in their school days beginning the night he’d slipped out to meet those local girls in the village and Devon had followed him. Chuckling at the old memory, he rounded a table and offered a nod to a passing gentleman. Since that night, he’d spent holidays at Thornwood Manor and managed to stay in touch with his old friend even in recent years when Thornwood had left the country for his explorations and Holden had remained in France—or so everyone believed.

“I thought you were set to be in the country for a few weeks. Back so soon?”

“My trip was cut short. It’s a rather long tale as to why.” He truly didn’t want to explain that he was chasing one female on the advice of two others. That was ribbing ammunition that shouldn’t be given to a friend unless it was unavoidable. “I will just say I’ve returned. It’s good to see you, Thornwood. Care to have a drink?”

“Certainly,” Thornwood returned as he clapped Holden on the back. “I’m looking for any excuse to avoid my home at the moment.”

“Her Grace is in town?” Holden asked, pulling out a chair from a nearby table to sit.

“And wreaking havoc on my sanity. She has it in her head that this is the year she will convince me to bend to her will and marry. She believes my being settled will be to Roselyn’s benefit next season. I keep telling her it won’t happen, but does she listen?” Thornwood shook his dark head and settled into the chair opposite Holden, his large size at odds with the small table.

“Does anyone of the female persuasion listen when we proclaim what is truth?” Thornwood’s mother equaled a large storm at sea in both effects on the small boats in her path and social bearing in the
ton
. On her, even the family’s signature sharp, gray eyes looked as if they could snap a man in two—but Holden knew better. She was a caring mother beneath it all, which was something that had earned Holden’s respect over the years. He’d always been fond of her.

They paused in their conversation to signal for drinks to be brought to their table. Finally, something to dull the humiliation of being pulled back to town by the cunning of a group of ladies. Holden stretched his long legs out before him and smiled in anticipation of a nice chat with an old friend, and the night ahead of him in which he would find Suzanna at long last.

“What are your evening plans?” Thornwood asked idly as he leaned back in his chair.

“I’m escorting my cousins to the Dillsworth ball.” Then he would escort Suzanna to some remote corner and find some release from the torment she’d begun in him. He couldn’t stop a smile from tugging the corners of his mouth upward. “Will you be there as well?”

“Hell no.” Thornwood recoiled, his brows drawing together in concern. “That’s the same ball my mother is harping on me to attend. Cry off from your cousins, and we’ll drink ourselves senseless.”

“Not a chance,” Holden stated, his mind focused on his pending conquest.

His friend made an inarticulate sound and watched him in that way he’d always done when he was curious about something.

Damn, had Holden been so obvious about having other reasons for attending the ball? He attempted an innocent shrug, but it clearly failed to hit the mark, judging by Thornwood’s narrow-eyed glare.

After a long moment of pointed stares, Holden sighed and leaned his elbow on the table. He wasn’t going to escape this conversation without recounting his shameful jaunt across the countryside—that much was certain. Dropping his voice so as not to be overheard, he began, “You see, there is this extremely vexing female.”

“There always is.”

“Yes, well, this particular vexing female is said to be attending the ball this evening.” He tried to leave it at that, but Thornwood was as bloody perceptive as usual.

After another round of glares, Holden gritted his teeth and admitted, “She’s actually the reason I’m back in town so soon.”

“Why am I thinking I’m about to hear the long tale you neglected to tell me of your precipitate arrival?”

“I wouldn’t dare bore you with the details. I’ll keep it to this: there was a masquerade at my uncle’s estate not a week ago. I, of course, was forced to attend. I was having a typically dull time of it when this vision in dark rose…appeared.” He stopped himself from telling everything, even though the vision of Suzanna on the stairs and then on his bed was now at the forefront of his mind. No need to go into specifics. His blackened eye had healed, and he wasn’t about to share that dance down the steps with anyone. That was his and his alone.

He cleared his throat and took a swallow of bourbon to soothe his heated thoughts. “Anyway, we shared a few dances, a few laughs, among other things, and then the chit vanished. Gone, just like that.” He snapped his fingers in the air for emphasis.

“I tracked down a friend of hers from the masquerade who informed me of her presence in London and the balls she is set on attending. Tonight I will find her.” He grinned, imagining the scene already. He would spot her. She would inadvertently back herself into a darkened corner. He would steal her away into the night. They would finish what they’d begun. Simple. Her pale skin would be in his hands, her full red lips under his, her burnished gold hair would fall around them as they…