Colin chuckled. “I should have known that Tibby would have friends just as independent as she is. Do you get to see much of London? The shops, or calls, or anything fun?”
She smiled thinly and raised a brow. “A bit. But we have been a little occupied the last few days. Lady Cavendish is expecting her nephew any day.”
Colin slowed his step and exhaled slowly. “Idiot,” he hissed to himself. Then he turned his head just enough to look at her. “That would be Miles Cavendish, yes?”
Susannah nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. The sudden tension in Colin was practically visible. He was perfectly coiled, as if ready to fight at a moment’s notice. She knew he would not like this, but a sudden mischievous streak had lit her mind, and she wanted to see where it led. “And she is most anxious for me to meet him,” she added for good measure.
“You are not to go within twelve feet of that man, do you hear me?” he growled, sending a shiver up her spine.
The order made her twitch slightly, and again she had to crane her neck in response.
Colin did not notice. “It would be entirely improper, Lady Cavendish has to know that. Her nephew… and her companion? No, absolutely not.” He shook his head frantically. “I’ll tell Tibby, she can talk some sense into her. Difference in station, in fortune, in temperament, everything. Wrong, wrong, wrong…”
Susannah almost gagged at the sudden flash of pain that lit her chest and her throat at his words. He was so fierce and determined, his words harsh and his manner almost violent. She had not expected this reaction from him. He had been so good to her, so thoughtful, and he had said it was all behind him now. But this?
“There is no need to point out the discrepancy,” she snapped, putting as much distance between them as possible. “I already did that, I can assure you. And I am well aware of the distance between Mr. Cavendish and myself, I have no expectations or designs.”
She turned and started to walk briskly ahead, but he caught her arm.
“Hold on, there,” he said roughly, pulling her back. “Come back.”
She exhaled sharply and stopped, her lips compressed tightly together. Colin put both hands on her upper arms and bent a little to meet her eyes.
“You know why I am upset, don’t you?”
Susannah shrugged and looked away.
He reached out a hand to cup her cheek and turn her face back to his. When she met his eyes again, he smiled and stroked her cheek softly. “Miles Cavendish is a young and attractive man of considerable means, which means he can have any woman in the world. And if he spent five minutes with you, there would be nothing in heaven or hell that would keep him from proposing to you.”
Her jaw went slack at his words, and her knees shook as he continued to stroke along her cheek.
“And I just can’t let that happen,” he admitted, his smile turning curious and warm.
She needed to think clearly, needed to be away from his tantalizing touch. She swallowed hastily and forced a laugh as she stepped back and started walking again. “Don’t be ridiculous, Colin. No one would propose to anyone that fast.”
“Well…” he said slowly as he followed.
Something in his voice clenched her stomach and she half-turned, but kept walking. “Well what?”
He met her gaze, his eyes clear and bright. “Marry me.”
She nearly stumbled backwards and coughed her surprise. “Excuse me?” she managed to get out.
He raised his chin a little higher. “Marry me, Susannah. I’ve been up most of the night thinking about it, and I want you to marry me.”
Her mouth worked without sound, and she stopped to face him completely. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am serious. Completely.”
“Colin,” she said in exasperation, wildly looking around for any witnesses. “You can’t propose that fast, we just got to know each other again.”
He shrugged. “I can if I love you.”
All of the air in her lungs rushed out in one breath. “Wh-what?”
Slowly, he shrugged once more, now smiling. “I love you. Again. Still. Always. And I don’t see the point in drawing things out.”
He could not, could not understand what he was asking of her. What he was saying. He couldn’t mean any of this, not really. She slowly shook her head. “Colin…”
He took two steps forward and seized her arms. “Tell me you don’t love me.”
A small, stray fragment of air hitched in her throat. “I…” she choked, her voice disappearing entirely.
“Go on.”
She shook her head. “It’s too soon. I… I need more time.”
He gave her a look. “It’s been almost twenty years.”
She returned the look coldly. “You know what I mean. We have just barely been friends again, and we were only children before, we did not…”
“Don’t,” he interrupted. “Don’t trivialize what we had. That was as real as anything, and we both know it.”
She shook her head, unable to think about that. “And you’re ready to marry me already?” she went on, as if he hadn’t spoken.
He exhaled in irritation. “People have done so for less.”
“We are hardly just any people, Colin.” How could he not see that? But she could not walk away from him, not yet. She held her breath, pleading with her eyes for him to understand.
His eyes narrowed a little. “So… no?”
Without breathing, she repeated, “No.”
He made a noise of consideration, tilting his head a bit. “More time, you say?”
She nearly wept with her relief. “Definitely,” she said, smiling for effect.
He grunted and released her arms, putting his hands on his hips. “All right, I can be patient. But you had better kiss me or I shall think myself actually rebuffed.”
Willing and able, and glad to do so, she looked around, then quickly stepped forward and took his face in her hands to give him a brief, but fierce kiss. He smirked against her lips and extended the kiss, lingering. When he had her toes trembling in her boots, he broke off and whispered in her ear, his lips dancing lightly across the skin, “I just want you to be assured that this conversation is far from over.”
She shivered as he pressed a light kiss to her ear, no doubt scorching the delicate skin.
Mercifully, he stepped away and laced his fingers with hers, his eyes daring her to deny him. Then he pulled her along and they slowly walked towards Lady Cavendish’s house together.
Susannah breathed in her relief with every step they took, feeling both strengthened and weakened by the feeling of his fingers with hers.
That had been too close for comfort.
It was too close for sanity, let alone comfort.
That could not happen again.
And yet… Colin said he loved her. Whether or not that was really true would remain to be seen, he could hardly understand the value or impact of those words as yet. Perhaps he never would. Perhaps the closer he got, the more he would see that she was not fit for him. She couldn’t be, not anymore. Not with her past and history, her current troubles and danger.
But for now, this beautiful, extraordinary, maddening dream of hers held her hand and thought he loved her.
She could live with that.
For now.
Much later that night, Colin silently made his way through the dark London streets. The note had arrived, as it always did, with clear and direct instructions, no signature, and no indication of what would come.
It didn’t matter. After his missive yesterday, he knew exactly what it was about.
Colin reached the alley he was supposed to, and he leaned against the brick, looking down at his boots, pulling his cap down lower.
He should have known Susannah would have refused him. His proposal had been rash, rushed, and entirely ill-timed. He stood by what he said, he loved her, he wanted to marry her, and he was tired of waiting. But he was not the one who would need convincing that this was right.
Susannah had obviously had a hard time of it, and she had every reason to wonder if he was in his right mind.
He needed to court her, prove to her that this was real. He was not reliving his youth at this time, he was very fully and conscientiously in the present. And he loved the woman she was here and now.
And that was what brought him here to this alley in the middle of the London in the dead of night.
Love. And Susannah.
“Care to tell me what business you have with Miss Hart?” asked a familiar yet unfamiliar voice.
Colin sniffed a laugh and looked down the alley, where his companion remained in shadow, as he always was. “Shouldn’t that be my question to you?”
He saw the other man shrug. “I have an interest in everybody. Ergo, my letters about your brother and Miss Bray.”
Colin considered that for a moment. “Fewer letters of late, there.”
“Fewer things to say. Why are they so quiet?”
“Well,” Colin sighed, leaning his head back, “Marianne has been surprisingly reserved since that incident with her brother’s wife in the winter. She hardly made a peep all Season. I think she is making restitution.”
There was a faint snort. “It won’t last.”
“Never does,” Colin agreed.
“And your brother?”
“A bit occupied with our new sisters, I think.”
“I heard about that.”
Colin grinned and looked in his direction. “Yes, I suppose you would have.” He laughed once. “Beyond that, I think there is a problem with one of the estates that has him distracted. Cheshire, I think.”
“Yorkshire.”
Colin laughed. “Braggart. At any rate, he should be back to normal soon as well. Back to Miss Hart, if you please.”
The man laughed softly. “Very well. I happened to meet Miss Hart in London myself a few weeks ago. We’ve been keeping an eye on her ever since, so you could say I have a personal interest.”
“You what?” Colin asked jerking up. “What was she doing? What were you…?”
“I am not here to talk about that,” he said brusquely, effectively cutting him off. “There is not time, and it doesn’t matter to the present situation. You want me to look into her past?”
Colin did not like being dictated to, nor having his questions dismissed, but considering the man he was dealing with and the potential severity at hand…
“Her real name is, or was, Susannah Merritt. Her family lived near Seabrook in Devon. She was married around the age of sixteen, or so I think, and I do not know who or where, or anything beyond that. But she has a son, Frederick, and he is seven. Also, yesterday she was seen going to visit a Mr. Jacobs, a solicitor for tradesmen in the financial district. I don’t know what for.”
“And why do you need the information, Gerrard?” There was no accusation in the tone, he was all business, but Colin had enough dealings with the man to know his hints of concern.
“She is in trouble,” he said softly. “Possibly a great deal of trouble, and I need to know about it.”
There was a faint hum of discontent. “I knew there was something about her, and my men have reported things to me that don’t add up. Why haven’t you tried to find something out yourself? You have the resources and the ability.”
“I did. Years ago, before I had the resources I do now. And now that I have them, and she is back in my life, I cannot be the one to do it. I can’t.” He shook his head quickly, and swallowing was difficult. “I need you to do this.”
“Are you sure you want to know?” he asked cautiously. “Who knows what I may find.”
Colin nodded, swallowing at last. “I know. I am sure.”
There was a moment of hesitation. “All right,” he said finally. “I’m on it. I will be in touch.” He turned to go.
“Gent?” Colin called softly.
He turned only slightly. “Yes?”
“Thank you. For watching out for her.”
The Gent gave a light chuckle. “It has been my pleasure. And I mean that this time.”
Colin glowered. “I hope you mean that platonically.”
He could almost see the suddenly quirked brow. “She’s yours, then?”
Colin stiffened and his jaw tensed in defense. “No…”
“So, yes.”
He heaved a sigh of resignation. “Yes.”
The Gent chuckled heartily and it echoed off the alley walls. “Well played, Mr. Gerrard. Good night.”
And as he always did, he disappeared silently into the night, just as he had come.
Colin shook his head with a smile. The Gent was one of his greatest allies, but he never knew what he looked like or who he was beyond that. It didn’t matter now, but someday…
He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked home, whistling a jaunty tune to himself.
Perhaps this was high-handed of him, and probably a waste of the Gent’s time and abilities. But his motives were sincere, and the information crucial.
Susannah was his.
And he needed to know everything.
Chapter Thirteen
Colin Gerrard, I do not like secrets being kept from me.”
Colin looked up from his breakfast into the flashing eyes of Lady Raeburn, wreathed in emerald green, a matching feather, and a golden brooch so large it was ostentatious. Her eyes narrowed at his lack of immediate response and she tilted her head dangerously.
He cleared his throat and attempted to form thought. “What secrets, my lady?”
When she sniffed indignantly, he tried frantically to remember what he had not told her. He had slept horribly and was only barely conscious now, which meant it was far too early to face her inquisition. He had no strategy and absolutely no defense.
“I saw you walking with Miss Hart yesterday morning, Colin.”
He was likely to revisit his partially digested breakfast at any minute.
“You were holding hands in the most intimate of fashions. And neither of you were wearing gloves.”
That was it? That was all she saw? His stomach settled noticeably and he could force a smile. “I never wear gloves, Tibby. You know that.”
“And her excuse?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps she does not have any. Not all ladies wear gloves, you know.”
“The lack of gloves is hardly the important part,” Tibby said, sniffing again and raising an auburn brow. “I have eyes, my dear boy, and I know a secret affair when I see it. Believe me, I have been in my fair share.”
The urge to be sick flared once more at that thought.
“I will not advertise my findings,” she informed him, as if that were a kindness, “because I am just too delighted to see you so deliciously pummeled by any woman, and that was not even my reason for coming to you so early.”
“No?” he asked, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with his serviette carefully.
She narrowed her eyes again. “No. I am collecting your sisters and Mrs. Creighton, as you are still incapable of procuring an instrument for them. Really, at this rate, they shall have no accomplishments whatsoever.”
“You would never let that happen, Tibby,” he commented with a grin. “Take Freddie, too. He would love your house.”
Tibby hummed dangerously. “What does Duncan have to say about your little liaison with your ward’s mama?”
Colin chose that moment to yawn, stretch, and look at the ceiling with a great deal of interest.
“He doesn’t know?”
The floor was also very interesting at the moment. He ought to consider a new rug for it, the old one was a bit worn in places.
“I revise my threat,” Tibby said at once.
Colin looked at her immediately. “What threat?” he barked.
Her smile was bordering on the menacing. “You tell Duncan, and the others, about what you have going on. Or I will.”
He slowly rose from the table and leaned forward on it. “You wouldn’t dare,” he murmured.
&nbs
p; She matched his pose and expression. “Try me.”
“Tibby!” shrieked two very high-pitched voices thundering their way down the stairs.
Tibby gave him a very dangerous warning via the regal quirk of a brow, and turned from the room. “Darlings! Ready to go and make the world sing anew?”
“If Bitty’s playing, there will only be squawks of protest,” Rosie said in her matter-of-fact way, sending Bitty and Freddie into a fit of giggles.
“Master Frederick, it is lovely to see you again,” Tibby said as she smiled down at the lone male in the group.
He bowed, perfectly as always. “Lady Raeburn.”
She trilled a bit like a bird. “Sweet boy, you may call me Tibby, as the girls do. Though I applaud your excellent manners and form. Must be that wonderful mother of yours,” she added tilting her head slightly to bellow the words to Colin in the dining room.
He fisted his serviette in his hands and forced himself to take a steadying breath. He pushed out of the room and into the entryway where they all stood. The girls grinned up at him, and he nearly smiled back.
“Come on and hug me farewell, then,” he grunted, going to his knees.
All of them, even Freddie, hugged him tightly, and Bitty went so far as to kiss his cheek, which instantly smoothed away his agitation.
Mrs. Creighton took Ginny by the hand and smiled down at him. “Nice to see you have the ability to be on your knees, Mr. Gerrard, despite all evidence to the contrary.”
Tibby looked at the governess in a whole new light that Colin did not care for at all. Tibby’s approval for independent thought and brash speaking was never something he applauded. He got to his feet with a grunt of disgust. “Well, why don’t the two of you go off and vaunt my flaws amongst yourselves while you corrupt the children? I’ll wait here for my ears to burn.”
The women gave him a pitying look and were soon gone with the children in tow.
Colin rubbed the back of his head for a moment, considering what Tibby said. He knew he ought to tell his friends about Susannah; the real story, and they ought to meet her. And then he really ought to tell them that he was in love with her and had asked her to marry him…
The Burdens of a Bachelor (Arrangements, Book 5) Page 15
