Sweet Summer Kisses

by Erin Knightley

  “No, I eventually realized I must learn to ride to see him enough that he’d recognize his true feelings for me. You’ve noticed he doesn’t care much for dancing.”

  That wasn’t an issue for Susan. She knew what Knightwick enjoyed, and he knew her tastes. They didn’t intermesh. She wouldn’t have difficulty continuing the journeys to racecourses, however, she’d done that since she’d outgrown the need for a governess.

  “Oh, this is all foolish.” Susan jumped to her feet. “It doesn’t matter if I understand men, or Lord Knightwick in particular. He doesn’t care for me in that way. I’m tired of balls and assemblies, Mama. I no longer wish to pretend to enjoy having my toes stepped on or discussing the weather. I will let you and Papa choose a husband for me.”

  “I don’t understand. How can you think Lord Knightwick doesn’t care for you? He rode all the way from London just to spend twenty minutes with you. And that after spending several hours tolerating my company. If that isn’t marked attention, I should give up any notion of finding a husband for Fanny.”

  Susan toyed with the ribbon on the front of her gown. “He came to tell me he’d found additional sponsorship for my school. That is all.”

  “He found sponsorship?”

  “Yes. You see, he’d arranged to have his sister invite their mother’s friends over so I might speak with them. Then the ball happened, and I left before I could meet their friends.”

  “And he took it upon himself to speak to them.”

  “Yes. I suppose it was a form of penance.”

  “Susan, how can you not see it?”

  “See what?”

  Mama walked to her and cupped her hands on Susan’s face. “My child, he is in love with you.”

  Susan turned away. “He’s not. How could he be?”

  “How could he not be? How can you not believe it when he’s made it so plain?”

  “I plainly failed to see it.”

  Leading her back to the settee, Mama urged Susan to sit, her voice suddenly eager. “Shall we travel to London tomorrow?”

  “What would I do? I cannot call on him. I can’t ask him directly what his feelings are for me, can I?”

  Mama put her hand on her chin. “I see the problem. What can we do? You could call on his sister and let it slip how you feel about him.”

  “If he didn’t return my feelings I should perish from embarrassment.”

  “Let me think on it…”

  Susan thought, and thought some more. She could go to the next race meeting with Papa and hope to run into him, but Lord Knightwick could easily avoid her at such an event. She couldn’t quite throw herself in front of his horse like a heroine in a horrid novel.

  She had no experience in this sort of thing. She’d never find the answer. Closing her eyes, she tried to hear the sound of his voice the last time he spoke to her. Anything to bring him closer to her.

  She’d been so foolish. Why hadn’t she talked to him, either in Town or when he was here? Given him the chance to explain himself at the very least. She hadn’t even listened when he was there earlier, hadn’t really thanked him for the great kindness he’d done to her. What was it he’d said?

  “I owe you an immense apology that words could never equal.”

  “If I could, I would spend a lifetime trying to show it.”

  “Lord and Lady Oakhurst asked me to tell you that should you need anything in the future, you need only let them know. They will be happy to assist you in any way.”

  Lady Oakhurst would be delighted to put her brother on the spot, Susan was certain. With her assistance, Susan could find out exactly what Lord Knightwick’s feelings were toward her.

  “I must write a letter, Mama. Thank you for helping me think this through.”

  Chapter 8

  London

  Mid August

  Knightwick arrived home from the Canterbury race meeting to find a note from Hannah awaiting him.

  Please call on me at your earliest convenience.

  H.

  As tired as he was, he knew he should see her as quickly as possible. Her note held an urgency he’d not seen in her before.

  After washing off the dirt from the road, he dressed in clean clothing and had one of his horses brought round from the mews.

  He found Hannah just returning from a shopping trip and waited for her to sort herself out.

  “Well, what brings you here today, Knightwick?” She picked up her embroidery hoop and sat in her favorite chair.

  “You asked me to call.”

  “I did? Oh, that. I sent that note two weeks ago. I didn’t realize your convenience would be at such a late date.”

  “I’ve been in Canterbury. What did you need to see me for?”

  “It’s probably too late now. She’ll have given up hope.”

  “Who will? What are you going on about, Hannah?”

  “Lady Susan. I received a note from her two weeks ago asking me to inform you your assistance was required in Huntfield.”

  His heart stopped beating. “She wants me to return to Huntfield?”

  “It would appear so. But surely she would have resolved the problem by now. She likely found someone local to handle the matter.” The corners of Hannah’s mouth twitched slightly.

  Someone local to handle what matter? Who was she trusting with what sort of problem? His horse had traveled too far to make the journey to Huntfield, but he couldn’t wait until the next day to be sure Lady Susan wasn’t in need of something important.

  It must have been important to send for him after the manner in which they parted.

  He’d hire a horse in Town and make the trip right away. “I must go, Hannah.”

  “Have a safe journey,” she called as he ran toward the entry.

  ~*~

  The sky was growing dark when he reached the Huntfield estate, and was full dark by the time he arrived at their home. As always, the butler waited at the open door.

  “Lord Knightwick for Lady Susan.”

  “Please follow me.”

  He was led to the empty drawing room. A few minutes later the butler returned.

  “Lady Huntfield and Lady Susan will see you when they’ve finished dinner.”

  Knightwick strode to the cold fireplace and leaned on the mantle. She must have rectified the matter that had caused her to send for him, otherwise she’d have come straight away to see him.

  He’d wasted a trip here, just to spend another few hours waiting to have her treat him with disdain.

  Surprisingly enough, the ladies joined him after only fifteen minutes. Lady Huntfield bustled in with her usual air of regality. “Lord Knightwick, it’s good to see you again so soon.”

  “Thank you. Good evening, Lady Susan.”

  “Good evening.” She barely met his gaze.

  “Was your ride pleasant?” Lady Huntfield asked.

  He couldn’t tolerate wading through polite conversation wondering whether Lady Susan would speak to him. There was nothing to do but take the direct approach. “Might I have a private audience with Lady Susan?”

  Lady Huntfield blinked, then smiled. “Of course, dear boy. Susan, I shall join your father in his study.”

  He waited until she shut the door behind her. Lady Susan practically cowered in her chair, her shoulders hunched, her hands wringing a handkerchief. She looked like the wallflower he’d first believed her to be.

  “Hannah told me you wrote to her asking for my assistance.”

  “You were in no hurry to do so, that is plain.”

  “I was away. I returned only midday today. I came directly after Hannah told me.”

  Her head lifted and she peered up at him from beneath rich brown ringlets. “You didn’t receive her note until today?”

  “That’s correct. When she told me you’d written two weeks ago, I was afraid you’d think I’d ignored your request.”

  “You know me that well, at least.” She looked down at her hands again.

  Not sensi
ng any anger on her part, Knightwick gathered the courage to sit beside her. “Have you resolved your problem?”

  “No.”

  “How may I be of service?”

  After a moment, she met his gaze. “I’ve decided to allow Papa to choose a husband for me.”

  Knightwick’s heart dropped into his boots. “I see. I’m not certain how that involves me, but I will help in any way I can.”

  “I assumed since you’d come to know me better than most others do, you’d be the best one to advise him of a suitable match.” She lifted her chin a notch as though growing more comfortable in his presence.

  That was encouraging, but it was clear he was too late to ask for her himself. “To be honest, I can’t think of a man worthy of you.”

  “I can.”

  “Can you? Then you should tell your father who you’ve chosen.”

  “That man is not what you’d expect when you first meet him. He has a rather carefree air about him and holds many people at a distance. Yet when he’s with close friends and family, he is the warmest, most generous sort of man.”

  Knightwick couldn’t speak. Hearing her speak of another man was pure torture.

  “In fact, he so generous, he keeps a promise even after an acquaintance has ended.”

  What was she going on about? What sort of prom‑

  It couldn’t be. Had she forgiven him? She couldn’t have decided she wanted to marry him. He’d never said anything to show he was interested in being her husband. “Is this man a friend of your father’s, then? Someone he’d be likely to approve of.”

  The corners of her lips twitched. “Yes, he is.”

  “Is he good enough for you? Can he love you with all his heart and soul, treat you like the finest, most delicate china, and give you everything you desire?”

  “I believe so.”

  Hope blossomed within him. He shifted to face her. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?”

  “It depends.” Her features revealed nothing, which irritated him to no end.

  “What must I do to earn your forgiveness?”

  “Ask me.”

  He frowned. “I just did.”

  “No, silly man. Ask me.”

  Realization hit and took all Knightwick’s air. All of his ability to form words fled. “I’d come to hope…but I no longer dreamed…Oh, this is no good.” He ran his hands through his hair and leaped to his feet.

  How could he express what was in his heart? He wasn’t a romantic man. He wasn’t a poet.

  A poet. She loved the poetry of at least one man. Knightwick had read some of that man’s sonnets time and again in recent weeks, hoping to learn something more about Susan. Which of those would suit?

  “Bear with me, Lady Susan,” he began.

  “Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind;

  And that which governs me to go about

  Doth part his function and is partly blind,

  Seems seeing, but effectually is out;

  For it no form delivers to the heart

  Of bird, of flower, or shape which it doth latch:

  Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,

  Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;”

  He paused, the words not flowing in his mind. “How does it continue? Oh, yes…

  “For if it see the rud'st or gentlest sight,

  The most sweet favour or deformed'st creature,

  The mountain or the sea, the day or night,

  The crow, or dove, it shapes them to your feature.

  Incapable of more, replete with you,

  My most true mind thus maketh mine eye untrue.”

  Lady Susan’s face brightened. “Shakespeare’s Sonnet 113.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t memorize the numbers. I’m amazed I could even recall all the words.”

  “You chose well. It’s one of my favorites.”

  “It’s true, though, what he wrote. I can’t say it started with the first time I laid eyes on you, because we were both too young then for love. But lately I cannot look at anything the same. I see it all now, but nothing appears as grand as it was before because I’m comparing it to you. You’re in my thoughts, my vision…my heart. I love you, Susan.”

  She smiled at last. “I was afraid you didn’t know it yet.”

  “You knew already?”

  “Mama had to tell me. She helped me to understand how I felt about you, too.”

  He waited. And waited. “Isn’t there something more you wish to say?”

  “I love you, too, Knightwick.”

  “That’s all?”

  Her eyes grew round and her mouth opened, speechless. “You have yet to ask me.”

  He grimaced, feeling foolish. “As you see, when my eyes land on you, my mind becomes too full to converse intelligently. I shall do my best. Susan, I can think of nothing I want more than to have you as my wife. Please say you’ll marry me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  “I can’t say it any more plainly, Knightwick. I would be happy to be your wife. I can think of no other man who makes me feel as though I’m perfect as I am.” Her face glowed, her eyes burned bright.

  “You are perfect, my dearest.” He took her shoulders in his hands and drew her close, closer. Her eyes danced back and forth, landing on each of his in turn. Her lips trembled. When he pressed his lips to her, the smallest sound escaped her, and she leaned into him. The warmth of her, the sound of her quickened breaths, her sweet scent, all surrounded him, pulled him into a magical place.

  He drew back at last. “Your mother will wonder what we are about.”

  Susan grinned. “My mother knows what we are about. She is probably just beyond the door. Mama, you may come in now.”

  Lady Huntfield and Susan’s younger sister, Fanny, burst through the door. “Oh, my darling girl, I am so pleased. Lord Knightwick, you have chosen the most delightful bride. You have seen past the persona she hides behind and found the true person beneath.” She hugged Knightwick, and then her daughter.

  “Susan, I’m happy for you!” Fanny hugged her tightly. “I was never certain this day would come.”

  “Nor was I,” Susan admitted. “In fact, these past few weeks led me to believe there was no hope of my marrying. And even less hope of marrying the man I love.”

  Knightwick squeezed her hands. “I almost let you slip away. How lucky I am that you didn’t let me go.”

  “I am the lucky one.”

  Lady Huntfield clapped her hands together. “We must begin planning a wedding. Will we have it here, or in Bridgethorpe? Your family will attend, of course, Knightwick. Lord Huntfield will have his man contact your father’s man to discuss the settlement. You know Susan has a house of her own, already, although lately she has turned it into a school‑”

  “Mama, please. There is time to discuss all of this. First Lord Knightwick must speak to Papa, and his own family. Do not rush things.”

  “If I left it to you two, dear girl, you might put it off for years! It is better I push you to the altar. Gentle, loving nudges, of course, mind you. Oh, Knightwick, you have made your father and hers so happy. To have their families joined will please them to no end.”

  “Do you suppose Papa will want to join their stables, too?” Susan smiled at Knightwick showing how ridiculous she knew the idea to be.

  “Let’s not rush things,” Knightwick said. “I don’t think the rest of the Jockey Club members would allow such a venture. Their horses would never win.”

  He spent a few more minutes with Susan’s family before taking his leave. In spite of what Susan said, there was much to do to prepare for a wedding.

  A wedding. There had been several lately in his family, and with his younger sisters coming of age there would be several more in the next few years. He’d spent little time considering his own marriage, beyond the awareness he needed to produce an heir to one day assume the earldom. What had begun with his continued pursuit of bringing Zephyr’s blo
odlines back into Fernleigh’s Stud had ended in an alliance of a much better kind.

  This was not the dream he’d envisioned for himself. This was so much better than anything he could have ever hoped for.

  He was a lucky man.

  Epilogue

  November

  Huntfield

  “Are you certain you don’t wish to embark on our wedding trip until March?” Knightwick pulled the lap robe higher over himself and his wife. The carriage rocked over the dried ruts in the road created by the recent rains. They were taking advantage of the improvement‑if one could call it that‑of the roads to visit Susan’s school before leaving for the final race meeting in Newmarket.

  “If we could postpone it any later, I would prefer it, but I understand you will wish to follow the racing calendar. All I ask is that we travel somewhere for our wedding trip where there is no racecourse. Is there such a place?”

  “I believe I can find a location to please you.” He squeezed her gloved hand and gazed down into her eyes. They hadn’t stopped glowing since he’d proposed. Since she’d insisted he propose.

  “Anywhere I can be with you pleases me,” Susan admitted. “I will follow you to any racecourse you desire.”

  “I won’t ask it of you. And any time you require my presence at home, I shall stay. I will not let my horses come between us.”

  “It was your horses that brought us together, if you’ll recall. I will be forever grateful to them for doing so.”

  “As will I, wife. As will I.” He kissed her once, then again, then remembered they’d arrive at the school shortly so there was no time for anything more than a peck. Sighing, he sat back.

  “When will our home be ready? I’m eager to set up house.”

  “Soon. The wallpapers you chose arrived last week and are being hung, and the curtains will follow. Then I presume we’ll be able to move in.”

  “I hope so. How wise you were to find us a home between Huntfield and Newmarket, so we might visit both places with ease. I’m excited to visit Bridgethorpe Manor next month and see where you grew up. There is so much to know about you, yet I feel we’ve known one another forever.”