by Georgie Lee
Some day, Susanna would pass on the same knowledge to her child, and to the children who were sure to come from her union with Justin. All of them would possess the love of a father and mother and never experience the sting of being a bastard. It didn’t make the deceit she’d played on Justin right, but she’d done it for the child. For this reason, perhaps one day she could forgive herself.
* * *
Justin finished his inventory, struggling to concentrate on the list as he watched Susanna move along the length of the cellar. She didn’t sneer at the damp, but seemed lost in thoughts which brought a sweet softness to her face. There was something delightful she saw in the casks, not just the harsh memories of a neglecting grandfather, but other more comforting ones. Justin knew the sensation. Sometimes, when he walked into the pugilist club and inhaled the sweat mixed with sawdust and leather, he’d remember not his surly, drunk father, but the barrel-chested man who’d introduced him to the ring when he was twelve and taught him everything his own father had taught him about fighting.
She turned at the end of a line of casks and started down the second row. The light from outside illuminated her face and Justin caught the faint promise of their children in her wistful smile. Some day, he’d escort his own son to the club, show him how to defend himself like a man, both with his fists and his brains. Then he’d bring him down to the cellar and prove it wasn’t just brute force which made a man or earned him respect, but hard work and industry, which so many thought Justin lacked. He’d raise his children to make themselves better men than him and encourage them to seek a station in life even higher than his. He wouldn’t tear them down or hold them back and neither would Susanna. Her enthusiasm upstairs, and the alacrity with which she’d accepted her duties as his business partner, heartened him more than obtaining this fine shipment. In this stranger he’d found a true partner for both his life and his heart, one who wouldn’t look down on him or doubt him.
‘Are you done, sir?’ the deliveryman questioned.
Justin snapped his attention back to the list, finished his assessment and dropped a number of coins, including a few extra, into the man’s wide hands. ‘If you hear of any more shipments, be sure to tell me.’
The man counted the coins, his thick eyebrows rising at the payment before he palmed them, then raised his cap to Justin. ‘I’d be glad to, sir.’
The man made for the ramp and climbed up into the daylight, leaving Justin and Susanna alone.
‘Why are these separated from the others?’ She waved her hand at the far corner of the cellar where six casks were arranged in a small alcove.
‘You miss nothing, do you?’
‘Observing is nearly all I’ve been allowed to do these last seven years.’
He moved between the line of barrels to join her. ‘The wines near the front are common vintages and should turn a nice profit with sales to merchants looking to enhance their dinner table. These—’ he thumped the top of one lid, eliciting a deep sound from the full wood ‘—are the best of the lot. I’m saving them for your stepmother’s masked ball.’
‘I wouldn’t hold them all back,’ Susanna warned.
‘You think your father won’t honour his end of our arrangement?’
‘He will—after all, he kept his promise to my mother, in his own way. It’s Lady Rockland you’ll have to contend with. She’ll whisper about us to the wives of the other peers, I have no doubt about it.’ She picked a small splinter off a cask and flung it away. ‘Cultivate your own contacts. Don’t rely too heavily on Lord Rockland’s.’
‘Sage advice.’ If not a touch disheartening.
‘Don’t look so grim.’ She laid a hand on the side of his face, driving back the sense of failure nipping at him like the damp. ‘A man who can secure inventory like this can just as easily shift it to a notable merchant and other prosperous men.’
Justin took her hand and laid a gentle kiss on her palm, thankful for her honesty and her faith in him. Until the shop was on a secure footing, and trade brisk, the risk of failure still loomed. With her by his side he could face it and keep his worries at bay.
‘Now come, we should be getting home.’ He led her to the ramp, his confidence restored. ‘We have a great deal to plan.’
Justin instructed one of his trusted men to remain behind and guard the store, then he and Susanna made their way home in the carriage. During the drive, they exchanged ideas about the shop, talking over one another in their rush to explain their plans.
* * *
They were not more than a foot over the threshold of Justin’s house when Walter approached them. ‘Mr Rathbone requests your assistance at once with the Jacobson matter.’
‘Have you laid out my clothes and other necessaries?’ Justin asked as he escorted Susanna upstairs, Walter following behind.
‘As usual, Mr Connor.’
They entered his room to see his plain coat draped on the bed, beside which rested the thin leather holster and the lacquered case which held his pistol.
‘What is this nefarious matter calling you away?’ Susanna asked, her humour unable to completely hide her concern.
‘A ship’s captain with a considerable amount of debt.’ He shrugged out of his good jacket and handed it to Walter before taking up the plain one. ‘He gambled the profits from his last cargo away and the one he has now must be seized in order to repay his loan. Keep your fingers crossed there’s a shipment of fine wine in the hold.’
‘Even if it’s bad we can still sell it for a profit.’
‘I like the way your mind works.’ He dropped a kiss on her lips, lingering a moment to enjoy the sweet taste of her and wishing he could dally, but business called. Breaking from her, and heartened by the answering disappointment in her eyes, he took up the leather holster and slid his arms through it, settling it at his side. He flipped open the lid of the case, revealing the shiny pistol resting on the blue velvet inside.
Susanna’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the weapon. ‘Will it be dangerous?’
He hadn’t been completely honest with her in the carriage about all aspects of his business with Philip. ‘Desperate men who owe money are unpredictable. Best to be prepared.’
He checked the flash pan to make sure it was clear of debris. If things with the captain grew tense, he couldn’t risk a misfire. Hopefully, the captain wouldn’t put up a fight. The thought of risking his life again, especially with Susanna standing tensely beside him, so concerned about where he was going, didn’t sit well with him. Soon he’d give up this portion of his life, but not today.
Confident the weapon was clean, he slid the pistol into the holster, then slipped on his jacket.
‘Please be careful,’ she urged.
He looked at her. ‘I’m always careful.’
‘Why do I doubt that?’
He came around the bed to stand over her, resting his hands on her slender shoulders.
‘Don’t worry, the pistol is only a precaution and I’m as skilled with it as I am with my fists.’ He dropped a long, comforting kiss on her lips, his desire to remain strong in the pressure of his skin against hers. However, like her he knew he had to go and all too soon the kiss was over. ‘I’ll be back as fast as I can.’
In a whirl of his redingote, he went out the door and was gone.
* * *
Susanna sank a little against the bedpost, holding on as much to steady herself against her worries as to brace her knees against the intensity of his kiss. His ability to affect her so deeply made her as giddy as when she’d sampled the champagne at Lady Rockland’s soirées. However, she wasn’t drunk now and this was no sitting room.
If business hadn’t called him away, she might have provoked him to linger and lost herself in the smell of the leather beneath his shirt and the heat from their time outside. Instead, she’d let him go, understanding his need to remain employed and his loyalty to Philip Rathbone.
His loyalty was one of the traits she admired about Justin the most an
d one she was determined to match. There was no better time to begin than now. She couldn’t sit here all day fretting over him, not when there was so much work to be done.
Susanna made her way downstairs in search of Mrs Robinson. She found her in the kitchen and discussed with her the need to hire a charwoman to clean the shop.
* * *
Within the hour, the efficient housekeeper had summoned the daughter of a scullery maid who worked next door and the stout woman with strong arms was engaged. Susanna sent her off with a note to the man guarding the shop to allow her in so she could set to work at once.
This one item seen to, Susanna settled at the desk in Justin’s study near the back of the house and began drawing up a list of necessary items for the window. The list was nearly complete when Walter interrupted her with a cough.
‘The elder Mr Connor is here, ma’am,’ the formidable butler announced with more warning than welcome. ‘He’s in the study. Should I give him the usual amount Mr Connor does and send him on his way?’
‘No, I’ll see him.’ With Justin gone and not expected back very soon, she might become better acquainted with the elder Mr Connor and discover ways to soothe some of the difficulties between father and son. It seemed a monumental task, but if she could make things even a little better between them, it would be worth the effort.
‘Very well, madam. I’ll remain close by, in case I’m needed.’
Having seen Mr Connor’s temper, she well understood what he meant. ‘Thank you.’
Susanna set down her pen and with some hesitation made her way down the short hall to the cosy room at the front of the house. Before she reached the narrow entrance hall she paused and turned to the butler. ‘Ask Mrs Robinson to set out a small tea in the dining room.’
‘Yes, madam.’ Walter hurried off on his errand, leaving Susanna to face Mr Connor alone.
She nodded a greeting to Mr Green, who waited near the front door, his eyes on his boots as though trying not to be seen. With a charge like Mr Connor, she wasn’t surprised by his desire to fade into the woodwork. Her nerves weren’t exactly calm as she stepped into the bright sitting room to face her father-in-law.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Connor,’ Susanna called out, refusing to allow his answering scowl to diminish her smile.
‘What’s good about it?’ Mr Connor grumbled. ‘With my son out, I suppose I have to come begging to a woman for my money, as though I were a boy in breeches and not a full grown man who earned every one of those shillings.’
‘You needn’t beg at all.’ Susanna clasped her hands in front of her. ‘All you need do is ask and I’ll gladly supply you with your usual sum.’
Mr Connor scrunched up his face as though trying to come up with an answer to her invitation as biting as the anger eating at his insides. Susanna spoke first.
‘First, you’ll join me for tea. I’d like for us to get to know one another.’
He eyed her with more suspicion than disdain and she braced herself for a sharp retort, determined not to fling one back. For all her years of living with her grandfather, no matter how hard she’d worked, no matter how sweet and kind and loving she’d been to him, she’d never once cracked the hard shell he’d surrounded himself with. The same might be true of Mr Connor, but the little girl in Susanna who’d tried so hard to gain her grandfather’s affection wasn’t ready to give up on this old man, especially not when he was hurting Justin, too.
Despite the hardness deepening the lines of his face, the only thing Mr Connor hurled at her was a question. ‘Why?’
‘Because we’re sure to deal with one another quite regularly and it’s better to do so as friends than enemies,’ Susanna offered, trying to lower the man’s hackles. Like her grandfather, Mr Connor was perpetually surly and she could guess the reason why. Her grandmother’s death had ended what little cheer her grandfather had possessed. Judging from what Justin had told her of his father, the same grief had settled over Mr Connor after his wife’s passing, weighing on him until there was nothing but gin and hate to dull the pain.
‘I’ll stay if you can offer me something stronger than tea.’
Like his son, he wasn’t one to beat around the bush. ‘Come and join me in the dining room. We’ll see what we can find to slake your thirst.’
Susanna led the gentleman to the dining room, then stepped into the hall to speak with Mrs Robinson. ‘Please see to Mr Green. He looks as if he needs a thimble of gin.’
‘Or a tankard,’ Mrs Robinson replied. ‘Leave him to me, madam, I’ll see him calmed, though not so much he can’t perform his duties.’
‘Thank you. And one more thing.’ She moved close to the housekeeper, dropping her voice so as not to be overheard by the elder Mr Connor or his minder. ‘Bring me a small bottle of spirits, nothing too strong and only a quarter full.’
Mrs Robinson’s normally staid expression bloomed with surprise. ‘Ma’am?’
‘Trust me, please.’
With a ‘whatever you wish’ nod, Mrs Robinson made for the kitchen, collecting young Mr Green as she went.
Susanna joined Mr Connor at the table where he was already seated and helping himself to a generous slice of lemon cake. Ignoring his lack of manners, Susanna took her place and poured herself tea, not bothering to offer him any.
‘This food is much better than the slop Mrs Green feeds me,’ Mr Connor complained, tucking in to the cake.
Mrs Robinson’s entrance kept Mr Connor’s mumbling from expanding into too loud a complaint.
Susanna took the dark green bottle from Mrs Robinson and passed it to her churlish guest. ‘Here we are, something a little stiffer than tea.’
He sniffed the open top with a snarl. ‘Is this the best you could do?’
‘Our merchandise is in the store, not here, Mr Connor.’
‘Don’t think you can fool me. I’ve seen my son carousing enough to know he likes his spirits as well as any man.’ He poured himself as much port as the dainty tea cup in front of him would hold. ‘Don’t suppose a man could get a real glass?’
‘Your drink is better concealed in the china.’ Susanna raised her cup to her lips, sliding him a conspiratorial glance.
Mr Connor seemed to regard her with a new appreciation and he winked one wrinkled eye at her, then held up his teacup in salute. ‘You’re a crafty one, I’ll give you that.’
‘I’ve learned a thing or two from your son, as I’m sure he did from you.’
‘Taught him everything he knows.’ Mr Connor sat back and puffed out his thick chest with pride. ‘None was as good at gettin’ information out of people as me. I could ferret out any man’s secret and his debts, and discover where they’d stashed their valuables. I was the one who kept the elder Mr Rathbone safe when his clients didn’t want to pay.’
‘Justin speaks very highly of your time with him at the pugilist club.’ It was a bit of an exaggeration, but it served the purpose of stunning Mr Connor.
‘He was the best fighter at the club. Gentleman John Jackson himself once saw him spar and said he could be a professional boxer if he wanted.’ Mr Connor’s face broke out into a fond smile at the pleasant memory before his expression wilted. ‘But he thought himself too good for it, like he thinks himself too good for me. I’m surprised he speaks well of me at all.’
‘He wants you to be proud of him.’
‘He don’t care a fig for what I think.’ He drained the teacup, but didn’t ask for more.
‘I assure you, Mr Connor, you’re very wrong.’ She laid a steadying hand on the almost threadbare arm of his coat.
He stared at her hand as if this was the first time in a long while he’d been offered any tenderness.
The clock in the hallway began to chime and the quiet moment between them was broken. Mr Connor pulled away his arm and rubbed the whiskers at the end of his chin. ‘Best be going before Justin comes back from wherever he’s at. He smells liquor on my breath, and we’re both in for it. I wouldn’t want a pretty thing like yo
u getting in trouble.’
‘I assure you, I can hold my own against anyone, including your son.’
‘Good. He needs someone to thump some good sense into him every now and again.’ He winked at her and she winked back, happy to be colluding with him. In the gesture she felt a measure of trust and the first small step towards easing the prickliness of his relationship with Justin.
‘Please come back any time you wish. I’m sure I can find a little something to make your visit a bit sweeter,’ Susanna offered as she escorted him to the door.
‘I shall.’ He trilled his fingertips together in front of his chest in delight, his look reminding her very much of Justin, especially around the eyes which were the same rich brown as his son’s. With a shave and a better-fitting coat, the resemblance between father and son would show even more. ‘Now, where’s that lousy minder of mine?’
His raised voice carried through the house. A moment later Mr Green came hurrying in from the kitchen, looking slightly more at ease either from one of Mrs Robinson’s tonics or just a few moments away from his blustery charge. ‘I’m here, Mr Connor.’
‘Then let’s be off.’
‘To the pub sir?’ Mr Green asked.
‘No, I’m tired and want to go home.’ Mr Connor tapped his hat over his head, oblivious to the stunned stiffness of Walter as he passed him and made for outside.
Susanna watched the two men walk off down the street, aware of Mrs Robinson beside her.
‘Well done, ma’am,’ Mrs Robinson commended.
‘Make sure you keep a half-empty bottle of port handy,’ Susanna instructed the housekeeper, whose eyes danced with mirth at the idea. ‘I think we may be seeing Mr Connor here quite often for tea.’
Chapter Nine
A myriad things connected to the business kept Susanna busy, both after Mr Connor left and for the many days after. There were curtains to be selected for the front windows, accounting books to purchase, calling cards to order and the design of wine labels to approve. Justin was occupied with his own tasks, taking on an apprentice, two shop assistants and visiting and securing customers. It proved an exciting and challenging week, and with each passing day Susanna felt more at ease in both her new role as a wife and her place in the Connor household. Here, no one made her feel like an unwanted interloper, even when she changed the menu or suggested a different arrangement of the sitting-room furniture. The security of it provided a calm she hadn’t known since before her grandmother had died.
