Sweet Summer Kisses

by Erin Knightley

She paused at her door. “Thank you, Lord Knightwick. How strange it is we’re thrown together so much of late. In the past we have exchanged few words with one another, usually squeezed in around my father’s boasts of his latest win. Now I feel as though we’ve always been close friends.”

  “It is odd, at that, isn’t it? The more I know of you, the happier I am to call you my friend.”

  “I must go in and see if Mama has taken to bed beside Papa, claiming a relapse of her nerves. Both of them will be well enough to arrive at the racecourse bright and early. Goodnight.”

  “Rest well. I will no doubt see you at the racecourse.” He strolled to his own room, reflecting on her words. It was true, since the night of her confession he felt he knew her better than most of the ladies of his acquaintance. Given how often they were at the same races, he was certain that friendship would grow.

  ~*~

  Two evenings later, Knightwick led Lady Susan back into the drawing room from the terrace of Lord and Lady Sunderland’s home, where they’d gathered with a good number of those still at the racecourse. Lady Susan went to speak with a friend. Realizing Huntfield was studying him with the oddest expression, Knightwick crossed to room to join him. “Did your colt injure himself when he fell in the race?”

  “Not seriously, but I’m withdrawing him from the rest of the races this week. He’ll recover in time for Newmarket.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Knightwick stole a glance at Lady Susan, who was laughing with Joanna.

  “Why is it no other man will pay as much notice of my daughter as you do? Or is there something more to your interest than I’m understanding?”

  Heat rolled up Knightwick, followed by a cold chill rolling down. “There is nothing more than friendship between us. She’s a charming girl, rather pleasant company. I wonder if she pushed away men when she first came out in Society, and eventually they gave up trying to know her?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if that were true. I don’t understand her. Why would she be so opposed to marriage? Her mother and I have been quite happy together. All of her friends are married, none of them unhappily. Where does she come by this aversion to a normal life?” Huntfield shook his head. “I should have had a son. He’d be eager to begin his own life. He would share my passion for race meetings. Susan prefers to bury her nose in a book.”

  “I enjoy reading, too. It’s not an uncommon pastime.”

  “Did she tell you she is writing a book?” Huntfield’s voice held the incredulity of a man discovering a new species.

  Knightwick held back his chuckle. “She has not mentioned it. It’s not a bad hobby, as hobbies go.”

  “What man wants a wife who believes herself to be a writer? Where did we fail in our duties as parents in raising her?”

  His hands tightening into fists, Knightwick bristled at his friend’s words. The fact Huntfield was astounded at what brought his daughter pleasure wasn’t as bothersome as his apparent belief it made her unlovable. “The right man will love her for what she enjoys, not for her ability to become what he imagines a wife to be.”

  “That would be ideal, but how do we find such a man? He hasn’t been in Town in the past five or six years, nor does he attend race meetings. I fear he only exists in those books she buries her nose in.”

  Huntfield had no understanding of who his daughter was. Not the slightest hint of awareness of what she enjoyed. Knightwick suddenly realized why Lady Susan was so uncomfortable in Society. If her own parents didn’t accept her the way she was, how could she expect anyone else to?

  She seemed quite at ease as she stood speaking with Joanna and David, and the daughter of another horse breeder had joined their group. Why couldn’t she be this way in London? She likely would have married by now, perhaps to a man who had friends willing to sponsor her dream school.

  Obviously Huntfield knew nothing of Lady Susan’s efforts to improve the lives of the people on his estate. She was right to keep her plans a secret, as it didn’t fit with the ideal daughter her father expected her to be.

  What a sad life she must be living.

  Determined, Knightwick pledged to make certain she succeeded in raising the sponsorship she needed.

  “Susan gets on well with you and your family. You would do me a great favor to introduce her to your friends. She appears at her best when she is laughing and enjoying herself as she is now. I’ve noticed she’s often that way when she’s with you. Spend a little time with her when you can, and it will put her in her best position to find a husband.”

  Once again, the man’s words rang of matchmaking. Knightwick would have none of it. “If I begin paying marked attention to her, people will assume there’s an understanding between us, and that will defeat your purpose.”

  Huntfield chuckled. “On the contrary. You know the way of men. Nothing is as desirous as another man’s possession. What a boon to a man’s ego it would be to steal the object of Lord Knightwick’s eye.”

  “You overestimate my influence on other gentleman. Would it be fair to become a close friend of Lady Susan’s with such false intent?” The idea rubbed him the wrong way.

  Huntfield stroked his side-whiskers. “I have a suggestion that might make the idea more pleasant for you.”

  “Spending time with your daughter isn’t unpleasant. Don’t misunderstand me.”

  “You’ve been quite eager to use my stud, Raven. I believe we can come to an agreement. You give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want.”

  Knightwick stared in disbelief. The earl acted as though his daughter was part of his stable, her life something to be bartered away. Huntfield wasn’t a cruel man, and he appeared to love his daughter. He simply had no idea how to cope with a child who was so dissimilar to what he’d expected her to be. She deserved to be treated so much better than this.

  The only way she’d find that happier life would be to do what her father wanted‑find a decent man to marry. The only way that would happen was if Knightwick helped her. He no longer cared about Raven‑not that he’d turn down the offer‑he was determined to help Lady Susan find love and happiness.

  It wouldn’t even be that difficult, now that he knew her better. He might actually enjoy doing so, as it would give him something to do during the assemblies he was expected to appear at during race meetings. He was resolved. He would make this happen.

  “I will help you, Lord Huntfield. I will help Lady Susan find a man she can love.”

  Chapter 4

  Mid July

  Newmarket

  Knightwick was grateful to be at home in Fernleigh again, if only for a few weeks. Normally “home” was his town house in London, or possibly Bridgethorpe, his father’s estate. That only applied to brief visits during racing season when he travelled to a new course every few weeks. He and David concentrated mainly on the race meetings closest to Newmarket, where David and Joanna resided full time. Knightwick could travel to London in the days before or after the Newmarket events to make certain all was well.

  The day before the races were to begin, he watched for Lord and Lady Huntfield, hopeful they’d have Lady Susan with them. He hadn’t seen her since Bibury and was eager to do so. Eager to discern exactly what sort of man she might fall in love with. He sent a footman to the inn with a note requesting a drive with Lady Susan.

  The return message said she’d be delighted to join him.

  Ordering his curricle to be readied, Knightwick fussed a bit longer than normal with his cravat, and made certain his hair didn’t flip up below the brim of his hat. He didn’t go so far as to wear his best driving gloves. He wouldn’t wish Lady Susan to get the wrong impression of his intent.

  He had the feeling he needed to keep his intent from her as long as possible. As adamant as she was about remaining unmarried, she’d refuse to see him if she thought he was playing matchmaker.

  She descended the staircase in the inn wearing a pale pink carriage gown with ornate embroidery over the bodice. While it was th
e perfect thing to be seen wearing in Hyde Park, it also wasn’t too fine for Newmarket.

  “You look lovely.” He bowed.

  “You’re very kind.”

  Did she have no knowledge of her beauty? “I am very honest.”

  Her brief laugh ended in an undignified and undisguised snort. “I’m not a hothouse flower and we aren’t in Town. There is no need for flattery.”

  Her relaxed attitude was endearing. He offered his arm and led her outside. “In that case, you look like a scullery maid and I’m embarrassed at the notion of being seen with you. Perhaps I should put up the head of the curricle so no one will notice my companion.”

  “That is more like it. Now I’m certain I’m with my friend, not some popinjay.”

  After helping her up and taking his own seat, he called out to the horses, “Walk on.” The horses took an easy pace through the busy streets. Knightwick would have preferred driving outside of town so they could have the joy of a fast ride, but for propriety’s sake he remained where there were plenty of passersby who could see their behavior was proper. “Was your journey from Bibury pleasant?”

  “Very much so. Papa’s horse won often enough there that he was in a grand humor. He actually sang for a spell, which he hasn’t done since Esther married. I wonder if his health scare has given him a new vigor.”

  Knightwick wondered if there were another cause altogether for his humor, one unknown to Lady Susan. Huntfield seemed certain Knightwick could find Lady Susan a husband. He hoped so, for her sake more than Huntfield’s.

  “My sister Joanna has mentioned hosting a card party one evening this week. I believe she intends to invite your family.”

  “Mama will like that.”

  “Lord and Lady Oakhurst will arrive tomorrow.”

  “You will have most of your family here this week, it would seem.”

  “Not by half. Trey remains in London with his job. Sam is on the Continent with the army. And my younger three sisters remain in Bridgethorpe.”

  She held on to her hat when a gust of wind hit them. “I hadn’t realized there were so many of you. That must have been a noisy household.”

  “It didn’t seem that way at the time. Of course, I was away at school when the younger ones were born. Lucy-Anne was still in the nursery when I leased my town house in London. Most of the ruckus happened outdoors when we were home from school. Lord Oakhurst would stay with us and we always managed to find trouble, swimming in the pond or playing pranks on the grooms.”

  “I wish I’d had a friend such as that. We were always required to maintain decorum, even when we were alone in Huntfield.”

  He grinned. “Tell me honestly, would you have been running outside or have your nose buried in a book?”

  “I see you know me well. Mama generally commanded me to go outdoors and paint, or walk in the park. I loved to take walks with a book in my pocket and find a tree where I could sit in the shade and enjoy my book.”

  “Speaking of books, your father said you are writing one. Is this true?”

  From the corner of his eye he noticed her ducking her head. This must be a subject she preferred to keep hidden.

  “It’s not a novel, if that’s what you believe. It’s a collection of essays on William Shakespeare’s works. I’ve read some of the essays at meetings in Town and my friends encouraged me to collect them into a book for others to study.”

  Her father would probably prefer a horrid novel. To a man like Huntfield, a silly daughter was much preferable to a bluestocking. Her writings also narrowed the field of potential suitors quite a bit. “Are there many people who attend those meetings? I’ve overheard mentions of readings, but no one in my family has attended one.”

  “I imagine they’d not enjoy it. Our group is small, but I find that more pleasant. It’s easier to carry on a true discussion when there aren’t too many voices attempting to speak at one time.”

  “I see.” His next question was difficult to form in a manner that wouldn’t draw her ire. Yet knowing the answer would help him know where to look for a match for her. “Do many gentlemen attend?”

  “Are you one who believes that any woman willing to broaden her mind is a bluestocking and averse to male companionship?”

  “I believe no such thing. Why are you so quick to assume I think ill of you? In the years that you’ve known me, have I said or done anything to make you believe so?” He clenched the reins tightly but made every effort not to transfer his tension through the reins and confuse the horses. His matched chestnut pair was usually quite calm, but they were quick to read his emotions and might become skittish when they weren’t certain what he wanted.

  “I beg your forgiveness, Lord Knightwick. Father has been hinting strongly that I should become more aware of the gentlemen around me who would make satisfactory husbands. As if I’d settle for something satisfactory. I do not wish to marry, and I will not settle. He cannot understand that.”

  Knightwick nodded. “He wants only the best for his daughters but his idea of what’s best is nowhere near your desires.”

  “Yes, you understand me perfectly. What am I to do? How am I to make him see I am happy as I am?” Her gloved hands clenched and released in her lap.

  He slowed the horses to a walk, realizing their conversation had gone beyond small talk, and their drive needed more time. “Perhaps your own notions could be broadened a touch. Is it inconceivable that you could be happy with a life other than you have now? You’ve never thought of children of your own, or falling in love?”

  “I’ve never been the romantic sort. I never understood the teasing words my parents exchanged, or the look that comes over Esther when her husband enters the room. She’s been married two years and she still looks at him as though he were a custard tart drizzled in honey.”

  Chuckling, he said, “I assume that’s an expression of true passion?”

  “I wouldn’t know. Mama says I speak passionately on whether a person can truly be made immortal through poetry, as Shakespeare says. How could a person be so, when writings are read and reread through time, and interpreted within the lives of the readers? It is not the man who continues to live in the words. He is a hero reborn time and again, possibly made grander, or possibly insignificant, by the society of the current time.”

  Knightwick could only stare at her. Although the brim of her hat concealed her face at times, when he glimpsed it he couldn’t mistake the emotions pouring from her, the love she had for concepts beyond the comprehension of most people. Yes, she was capable of much passion.

  She held his gaze for a while before speaking. “You see now why I cannot marry. My husband would relegate himself to his club, or his study, or travel to racecourses so distant he couldn’t return home between meetings.” Her voice was soft now, filled with a sorrow that tugged at his heart.

  “Surely there are gentlemen who attend your readings who are equally as passionate about the topics as you are.”

  “A few, yes. But they are scholars, or an Oxford don who cannot marry. Men with even less a desire to marry than I have.”

  He tried to bring some levity back into their discussion. “Well, if you were to marry a man who hid himself away, you’d have all your time free to read.”

  Lady Susan’s lower lip quivered.

  Blast it. “I should not have said that. I hoped to see you laugh again. Is there anything I can do to help you with this situation, other than convince your father to give up his notion of seeing you married?”

  “No one will be able to convince him to do so. When I have the funds for my school, I will spend most of my time in Huntfield, where Papa will be so rarely present he cannot make me miserable.”

  Guilt began to eat at his gut. He was back to his first notion of helping her find sponsors, but rather than the task being a means to discern what sort of man would make her wish to marry, he realized the sponsors were a goal within themselves. The man who could make her truly happy was the one who could give her the
life she desired deep in her heart.

  ~*~

  London

  Lady Susan and her mother returned to London at the close of the Newmarket race meeting. Susan was excited to be back where her friends resided, where she could enjoy her outings so much more.

  Although, she had to admit enjoying the time she spent with Lord Knightwick, no matter where they were. That was a dangerous situation. If she weren’t careful she might form an attachment, and she would hate to lose his friendship because of her foolish heart.

  Knightwick allowed her to be herself. He allowed her to bare her soul and he didn’t judge. Even her sisters didn’t know as much about her as he now did.

  She trusted him with her secrets. He’d never reveal them to anyone. She would miss him when she went home to Huntfield to start her school.

  With her maid following a few steps behind her, Susan walked to the library where she might find a friend or two. Most of Society remained at their country homes at this time of year, or had traveled to the beach or northern villages where the summer was more bearable. Her friends didn’t have country homes, and many were merchants, or the wives of merchants, who must remain in Town year round.

  Susan didn’t recognize anyone in the library, so she perused the shelves to see what had arrived in her absence. She found a book on Roman mythology that looked intriguing and tucked it in her arm. Rounding the corner, she came to an abrupt stop to avoid colliding with a gentleman.

  He glanced up from the book he held, then smiled in recognition. Just as quickly, he shoved the book back into its slot in the middle of the row. “Good day. I wasn’t aware you’d returned to Town. Will you be here long?”

  “Only until the Brighton race meeting.” She rocked on her toes trying to discreetly see the title of the book he’d been reading. This section of the store held poetry, and he was the last man she’d expect to find there. Perhaps he sought a book for his mother.

  “I will be there, also. Will you be attending any entertainments while you are here? Perhaps I can introduce you to some potential sponsors.”