by Georgie Lee
Worry over what awaited her at the Rathbones’ made her stomach tighten, but she took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. Given the generous way Justin treated her, it was difficult to imagine his friends behaving so meanly, or him tolerating any snide comments, especially after his insistence no one would look down on her. It still baffled her how a near-stranger could regard her with more care and concern than either of her natural families ever had. It wasn’t the money making him attentive. She’d seen too many titled but poor men offer only the faintest attention to their wealthy intendeds to think money could make a man love a woman. With Justin, his concern was a genuine part of his character, one which urged her to reveal more to him in their brief time together than she’d told to any of the Rocklands in the years she’d lived with them. She trusted him not to hurt her and he really wanted to know about her.
His interest, and her willingness to confide in him, didn’t scare her as much as the plan to become Lady Howsham had. It’d kept her awake the entire night before Vauxhall Gardens. When she’d lain awake thinking of Justin last night, it certainly wasn’t worry which had warmed her body, or made her dream of his hands upon her skin. She wanted to see him tonight, to be beside him and indulge in the deep tones of his voice and the power of him beside her.
It was the memory of him smiling at her which strengthened her courage as the carriage turned on to Bride Lane. The old stone church sat on one side, towering over the line of houses and shops on the other and throwing them deep into shadow as it blocked the light from the setting sun. The carriage rocked to a halt in front of a plain but stately home in the centre of the terrace. A moment later, the door opened and Susanna took the footman’s hand and stepped down from the coach. It was a peaceful place, with the noise from nearby Fleet Street fading in the rustle of the large trees in the churchyard.
‘Shall I escort you to the door, miss?’ the footman asked, eyeing their surroundings as if unable to believe it was so genteel and no footpads were lurking nearby to attack her.
‘No, I’ll be quite fine on my own.’
She moved up the path to the house, eager to leave behind the trappings of her father’s status and embrace again the simplicity of the merchant’s life, assuming the Rathbones were welcoming. She still had no idea what to expect.
What she didn’t expect was for the front door to open and a young woman with auburn hair a few years older than herself to appear in the frame. Not once did her lively hazel eyes flicker to the carriage to gape at it as her grandfather had done the morning it’d pulled to a stop in front of his shop. To this woman it seemed not to exist; only Susanna mattered.
‘You must be Miss Lambert. We’ve been expecting you. I’m Mrs Rathbone. Welcome and congratulations.’
She pulled Susanna into a sweet hug. Susanna stiffened before at last relaxing enough to awkwardly return the greeting. She barely received any acknowledgement at home. She wasn’t accustomed to so much affection from a stranger.
‘Mr Connor has told us all about you.’ Mrs Rathbone held her at arm’s length. ‘You don’t know how surprised we were by your and Mr Connor’s engagement.’
Susanna eyed her warily, wondering just how much the woman knew about everything, including Lord Howsham. ‘Yes, it was most unexpected.’
‘As was mine to Mr Rathbone.’ She linked her arm through Susanna’s as though they’d been fast friends for years and guided her into the house. While the butler helped Susanna out of her pelisse, she took in the simple yet elegant entrance hall. The Rathbones’ wealth was evident in the high polish of the panelling on the walls and the quality of the furniture, although it lacked the ostentatious gilding and overwrought ornamentation the duke and those of his station favoured.
From a door along the side of the hall Justin emerged, accompanied by a tall, slender gentleman with a boy of about two perched on one hip.
Susanna saw only Justin and her feet nearly carried her to him before she restrained herself. The desire to be near him startled her. During her unfortunate yet brief time with Lord Howsham, it had been the freedom he’d offered which had filled her with yearning, never truly him. It was different with Justin. His sweep of her figure with his eyes, the glance both fiery and impressed, and the broad smile which softened the square set of his jaw and lit up his expression called to her more than any promise of a future. His wide chest practically demanded she wrap her arms around his waist and lay her head on his tan coat, the hue of which nearly matched his copper-coloured eyes. She craved the weight of his arms around her and the steady sound of his heart beating beneath her ear. She hadn’t expected to feel such a powerful reaction to a man she barely knew, but in all the uncertainty of her life he was in a very short amount of time becoming something very secure.
‘Good evening, Miss Lambert, and welcome to our home. I’m Mr Rathbone.’ The tall gentleman came forward, his face more severe than Justin’s, but with a friendliness which eased his sternness. ‘And this is my son, Thomas.’
The boy resembled his father, with dark hair and a watchful expression which took in everyone while he sucked on two fingers.
‘Good evening,’ Susanna answered with a curtsy, but her attention flicked back to Justin as he approached.
‘I see you made it in one piece,’ he joked, coming to stand before her as Mr and Mrs Rathbone kissed the boy goodnight and gave him to the nurse to lead upstairs.
‘I did, though I’m sure my father’s driver was worried we’d be robbed by ruffians once we turned off Fleet Street. He hasn’t ventured much further than Hyde Park.’
‘Of course he has, he’s been with his lordship to Drury Lane,’ Justin countered.
‘Why would he be in Drury Lane?’ A young lady with Mr Rathbone’s eyes and something of his stance asked, coming to join them in the entrance hall. Susanna was eager to know the reason, too, though she could well guess.
‘There’s a certain actress there the duke—’ Justin began before a matron who reminded Susanna a little of her mother stepped up behind the young lady and shot Justin a silencing, yet mirthful glare.
‘You shouldn’t speak of such things in front of Miss Rathbone, or Miss Lambert,’ she chided, wrapping her arm around her young charge’s shoulders.
Mr Rathbone introduced the young lady as Miss Jane Rathbone, his younger sister. The matron was Mrs Townsend, Mrs Rathbone’s mother and Miss Jane’s companion.
‘I’ll be sure to send out some food and drink to the driver for his troubles. Since he may be bringing you into this part of town for the wedding, we want to be in his good graces,’ Mr Rathbone announced as he wrapped his arm about Mrs Rathbone’s waist. Their unashamed intimacy was touching.
Lord Rockland didn’t offer his wife affection in public and, judging by the woman’s sour nature, not in private either. Growing up, Susanna had never had a father to show tenderness to her mother. She’d once caught her grandfather hugging her grandmother in the garden behind the house. He’d even smiled at the small bent little woman who had been his wife. The brief moment was the single time Susanna remembered seeing her grandfather happy. What little love and good nature he’d possessed had been buried with her grandmother.
Susanna’s throat constricted at the memory of her grandmother’s lavender-scented cotton dress. She’d been the only person in the house who’d cherished Susanna as much as her mother had. She used to wrap her gnarled arms around Susanna to comfort her after the village children had taunted her. They were the only warm memories Susanna possessed besides those of her mother holding her, or reading to her at night before she fell asleep. All too soon her grandmother had passed away and a few years later her mother had followed, death stealing from Susanna what little love she’d ever experienced.
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she looked to Justin. As if sensing her pain, he took her hand.
‘Are you well?’ he asked with concern.
‘Perfectly.’ She smiled, hoping with all her being he’d prove to be as caring
as his tight clasp of her hand promised.
‘Dinner is served,’ the butler announced.
It was then Susanna realised everyone was watching them. She tried to let go of Justin but he held her tight. She wondered what everyone thought of her being so bold, but there was no hint of judgement in their eyes. It was as suprising as her hope for Justin’s affection.
‘Shall we?’ Justin shifted her hand to his arm, his solidness beneath her palm settling her remaining worries.
‘Please.’ These were good people, worthy of being his friends and she would come to know and appreciate them as much as he did.
He led her down the hall behind the Rathbones, as comfortable here as if it were his own home. She possessed little idea of what his abode looked like. Surely it was nothing like this one with its richly panelled walls leading down the hall past an orderly study. Inside, French doors opened out on to a garden where pink, red and white roses bounced on their bushes in the breeze. The company turned left away from the cheerful beauty and into the dining room across the way.
‘You’ll be sure to tell me about the duke and Drury Lane later, won’t you, Mrs Townsend?’ Miss Rathbone pleaded in much too loud a whisper from behind them.
‘Of course, but not in front of your brother or our guest,’ Mrs Townsend answered and the two of them indulged in a conspiratorial giggle before quieting to take their places at the mahogany table.
The dining room proved as refined yet understated as the rest of the house. Blue paper covered the walls, the colour bright with the light of the candles in their elegant silver holders in the centre of the table. On the polished surface sat a set of china, stemware and silver fine enough to make even Lady Rockland take notice.
To Susanna’s pleasure, she found herself seated between Mrs Rathbone and Justin, with Mr Rathbone at the head of the table and Mrs Townsend and Miss Jane across from her.
The conversation didn’t wane as dinner began and Susanna marvelled at the convivial atmosphere. Here, the knives and forks didn’t clank against the plates to echo off the plasterwork, and the sound of chewing didn’t replace the conversations as it did in the Rocklands’ town house.
‘Miss Lambert, Mr Connor was telling us your family is in the wine trade?’ Mrs Rathbone asked with genuine interest. There was no hint of condemnation or criticism in her question.
‘In Oxfordshire. My grandfather provides most of the dons and too many of the students at the university with their fare.’ It was how Lord Rockland had met her mother, but she didn’t say it, not wanting to remind them of her illegitimate status and risk losing their good favour. Though she doubted these friendly people, who probably already knew most of her background and still welcomed her at their table, would be so mean. They didn’t strike her as petty like the Rocklands, who tore down even those they considered their greatest friends when they troubled themselves to speak during meals.
‘How do you find the wine?’ Justin asked as some topic of Miss Rathbone’s choosing drew the attention of the others away from Justin and Susanna.
Susanna took up her goblet and tilted it to her lips. The fine vintage slid across her tongue, smooth and easy, unlike the old swill her grandfather used to sell to the students. She peered at Justin from over the top of the crystal, his interest making her take her time, sensing it was more than waiting for her opinion which kept him enthralled.
At last she set the glass down. ‘It’s excellent.’
‘I chose it.’ Justin’s already formidable chest swelled beneath his fitted coat. The flickering candlelight caressed his face and danced in his eyes, revealing the small dark flecks mixed with the copper of his irises.
She touched the rim of the crystal goblet. ‘If this is the measure of your tastes, then you possess a bright future as a merchant.’
‘It’s my goal to impress in this...’ he lowered his voice and leaned in closer to her, his breath against her cheek as intoxicating as the spirits ‘...and all other matters.’
She didn’t blush, but answered him with lowered lids and the tilt of her head, as though teasing and inviting him all at once. ‘I have no doubt you’ll succeed.’
The look in his darkened eyes nearly melted her already heated insides. ‘I appreciate your faith in me.’
She licked her lips, wondering if he would taste as heady as the wine. ‘It’s well deserved.’
‘Good.’ He set his wine glass on the table, the red sparkling like one of Lady Rockland’s grand rubies. ‘I’ve secured the common licence and spoken to Reverend Clare at St Bride’s. He’s prepared to perform the service on Monday morning. Lord Rockland and I are meeting the day after tomorrow with his solicitor to ensure everything in regards to your dowry is in order.’
Susanna touched her napkin to the corners of her lips, trying to maintain some control over her excitement. In three days she’d be free of the Rocklands, and her time with Justin would become much more intimate. She crossed her ankles beneath the table, wishing the ceremony was tomorrow. ‘It sounds perfect.’
‘Indeed, it does.’ He slipped his fingers beneath her palm where it rested on her thigh. The subtle stroke grazed the top of her leg, teasing the skin beneath her skirts. She drew in a deep breath, making her breasts swell against the tight stays holding them and drawing his eyes down for the quickest of moments before they rose to hold hers.
‘I must make sure Mrs Fairley is done with my dress,’ she stammered, though at the moment, she’d walk down the aisle in her chemise if it meant marrying him and—to her shock—reaching the bridal chamber faster.
‘I’m sure she’ll be done in time,’ Mrs Rathbone assured her, overhearing the conversation. ‘She’s had practice at doing up a wedding dress in a hurry. She did mine and it was excellent.’
Susanna reluctantly let go of Justin, remembering her place as both the Rathbones’ guest and an unmarried woman who shouldn’t be touching a man. She should have known better, but under Justin’s tempting spell, she’d forgotten herself and where she was.
‘She does all of our clothes,’ Miss Jane added, as though this alone was enough to recommend the young modiste.
‘Mrs Rathbone, you said you and your husband had an interesting courtship?’ Susanna asked, her curiosity and the amiable atmosphere making her as bold as Jane.
‘Oh, very interesting.’ Mrs Rathbone exchanged a conspiratorial glance with her husband, bringing a sly smile to the man’s lips and easing the strict set of his features.
Susanna listened in amazement as Mrs Rathbone described how, after she’d threatened Mr Rathbone with a pistol, he’d made a proposal a day later. She’d accepted him on his odd terms and had come to live here with her mother. She went on to explain how her mother, having been a draper’s wife, now acted as Miss Jane’s tutor, teaching the young girl all she’d need to know to some day become a prosperous merchant’s wife, or perhaps the wife of a fellow moneylender’s son. These things were told to her as if she deserved to know them because she belonged here and was one of their friends. It was a great pleasure for Susanna to not be judged in their midst, and if her bodice wasn’t so tight, she’d have sighed with relief. Instead she listened and chatted and ate, admiring Justin and the small arch of bronze hair curving over his smooth forehead.
‘Do you like being a duke’s daughter?’ Miss Jane bluntly asked.
‘Miss Jane, such a question isn’t appropriate,’ Mrs Townsend gently corrected, although she tilted her head at Susanna as though waiting for her to respond, her curiosity as great as her young charge’s.
‘It’s tiresome,’ Susanna answered, wondering what the girl thought when she didn’t regale her with magical stories of balls and masks.
Miss Rathbone, proving herself as sensible as her brother, merely nodded, then speared a piece of meat with her fork. ‘I thought as much.’
Her curiosity satisfied, she didn’t press Susanna further on the subject and she was glad. She wanted to be here with them tonight, not pulled into memories of the shive
ring loneliness waiting for her when she left this jovial family.
* * *
All too soon dinner ended and Susanna expected to follow the ladies into the sitting room and leave the men to their port. To her surprise, Mrs Rathbone didn’t rise and it was Jane who dictated the course of the evening.
‘Mr Connor, you must show Miss Lambert the roses. They’re in full bloom now and quite beautiful.’
‘Miss Rathbone and my mother are very proud of the garden,’ Mrs Rathbone added, seeming to encourage the idea instead of rebuking the young lady for speaking out of turn as Lady Rockland would have done. ‘You must see them.’
‘And we will.’ Justin rose from his place, as ready as Susanna for them to be alone. What the Rathbones thought of their eagerness to depart to the darkness of the garden, Susanna couldn’t say. Given Mrs Rathbone’s tale about her introduction to Mr Rathbone, Susanna doubted anyone here would criticise her too harshly for slipping away with Justin.
She laid her napkin beside her plate and rose as Justin slid the chair out from beneath her. He offered her his arm and she took it, following him through the dining room and across the hall into the well-ordered office. Given the masculine furniture and the way not one item appeared out of place, she guessed this was Mr Rathbone’s domain.
‘Your friends are very kind and welcoming,’ she complimented. ‘Have you known Mr Rathbone long?’
