by Amelia Grey
Was he remembering every touch, every breath, and every taste of their coming together? All of a sudden, Race missed a step, and his foot landed on his partner’s. The beautiful young lady yelped and almost stumbled. Race caught her, and Susannah could tell he was apologizing, but by the expression on the young lady’s face, she was not happy with him.
Race glanced back to Susannah. She quickly covered her smile with her hand, spun, and bumped into the Duchess of Blakewell.
“Oh, excuse me, Your Grace.”
“Excuse me, Your Grace,” Henrietta echoed Susannah’s words.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
The lovely young duchess smiled at her and said, “Good evening, and no harm done. I saw you from a distance and wanted to come over to say hello to you.”
Susannah could only assume by the friendliness of her tone and sincerity of her smile that she had no idea that, just yesterday, her husband’s cousin accused Susannah of stealing his grandmother’s pearls.
Pushing away those unwanted thoughts, Susannah smiled with more easy pleasure than she’d felt in a long time. She saw nothing but honesty and friendliness in the lovely lady’s face. And Susannah needed a friend with all that she had going on in her life right now.
“I know we haven’t known each other long, but would you please call me Susannah?”
“Of course, I would like that; and please call me Henrietta.”
Susannah nodded.
“Do you remember meeting Mrs. Constance Pepperfield last night?”
“Good evening, Your Grace,” Constance said and curtsied.
Susannah looked at the striking woman who stood beside Henrietta. Susannah guessed Mrs. Pepperfield’s age to be about the same as her own. The lady’s red hair had been shaped into tight curls on the top of her head. Her wide green eyes were filled with delight as she spoke to Susannah with the confidence of a woman who was in control of her own destiny.
“Yes, of course, I remember. How very nice to see you again.”
“Somehow, Blake managed to persuade Constance to be my chaperone when I first came to London, and she easily made the change from chaperone to friend after Blake and I married.”
“What a nice compliment,” Susannah said and suddenly felt another pang of envy. She wished she had a friend she could confide in. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate Mrs. Princeton, but even though Susannah gave her companion wide parameters concerning their relationship, they had never made the leap from employee-employer to friends, as Henrietta and Mrs. Pepperfield had.
“If your schedule permits, perhaps we can go to the park together one day next week,” Henrietta said. “I hear there is a traveling troupe performing there with several amazing acts.”
“That would be lovely. I’ve heard about the man who gets into a cage with a tiger. I’ve wanted to go.”
“Perhaps I could check on that for the two of you and plan a date that would work for you both,” Constance offered.
“Is that all right with you?” Henrietta asked Susannah.
“Absolutely. Thank you, Mrs. Pepperfield, for offering to do that for us.”
Constance smiled. “Leave it to me, and I’ll take care of everything.”
“Good.” Henrietta smiled. “Since the weather has been so warm, we’ll plan to bring a basket and blanket and make an afternoon of it.”
Constance replied to Henrietta’s comment, but Susannah didn’t hear what she said. Susannah was watching the Duke of Blakewell walk up beside Henrietta. He put his arm protectively around her waist, pulling her close to his side, all the while keeping his gaze on Susannah. Even though Susannah knew the two were newlyweds and subject to be somewhat more affectionate in public than would ordinarily be acceptable, she had the feeling the duke was sending her a message. She sensed he wanted her to know that Henrietta was off-limits to her.
“Good evening, Susannah, Constance, I see you are enjoying the company of my lovely wife this evening.”
“Good evening, Blake,” Susannah managed to say without a hint of the reservation she was feeling inside.
“You see her enough as it is, Blake,” Constance remarked. “Though she loves you dearly, she does enjoy being unattached from your hip once in a while and spending time with her friends.”
“You never change, Constance.”
“I don’t ever intend to,” she quipped.
Somehow, Susannah knew instantly that Constance and Blake had a longstanding, respectful relationship with each other, and another pang of envy hit her. What was wrong with her? She knew that Race’s cousins had been wary of her from the moment they met her. But then what should she expect? Morgan and Blake knew she had come to London for no other purpose than to stake a claim on their grandmother’s pearls.
And why should she feel such envy? She hadn’t come to London to make friends or even to attend glamorous parties given in the finest homes in Mayfair. And she certainly hadn’t come for the depth of passion she had experienced with the marquis. The necklace was the reason she came to London.
“It appears that, suddenly, you aren’t wasting any time getting to know as many people as possible, Duchess,” Blake said, looking directly at her.
By the stern expression on his face and the arrogant tilt of his chin, Susannah decided the duke was letting her know that, even if his wife wasn’t aware the pearls had been stolen last night, he was, and that she might well be the nimble-fingered thief.
“One can never be acquainted with too many people, don’t you think, Your Grace?” Susannah spoke to Blake as easily as if she had the same relationship with him as Constance.
“That depends,” he said with what could only be called a half grin on his lips. “I’ve found that some people are not worth knowing.”
Her gaze stayed on his, and she smiled easily, confidently at him. “True, but then I’m sure you have also found that there are some people who are worth everything in the world, are they not?”
He nodded once to let her know that she had hit her mark.
“There you are, Duchess, Duchess, Duke, and Constance,” Sir Randolph said as he walked up with a short, very thin man by his side.
With all the ease of a man who knew his way around the most complicated of formal introductions, Sir Randolph managed to do what Susannah had asked of him. She was standing face-to-face with Mr. Harold Winston, the man who could have stolen her grandmother’s pearls from Race.
His eyes were small and such a light shade of blue, they were almost eerie. His nose was slightly pointed and turned up. His lips were completely surrounded by a short beard that ended in a point, though his cheeks were cleanly shaven. Within moments of the introductions being completed, Henrietta, the duke, and Mrs. Pepperfield excused themselves and melded into the crowd.
Just looking at Mr. Winston, Susannah could easily believe he had stolen the pearls. The man hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away from the emerald around her throat for more than a second or two since he had walked up.
After a few moments of polite conversation, Sir Randolph said, “Duchess, would you excuse me? I forgot there was something I needed to ask the duke.”
She smiled at Sir Randolph and was pleased to see that the swelling in his hands had subsided. “Of course.”
“Perhaps you’ll save a dance for me later?” he said with a wink.
“Most certainly, Sir Randolph.”
He spoke to Mr. Winston, and then left.
“Your Grace,” Mr. Winston said the moment Sir Randolph’s back was turned, “forgive me for staring, but the emerald you are wearing tonight may well be the finest and largest I’ve seen in a private collection.”
His eyes sparkled with eagerness to know about the stone. She smiled graciously at him as her hand crept up her chest to fondle the stone at the base of her neck. With her dress cut as low as it was, most men wouldn’t even notice she had on a necklace.
“How nice of you to recognize its significance.”
“No. My husband gave it to me on our wedding day. He told me only that he had purchased it on one of his trips abroad, knowing he would remarry one day, and it would be the perfect gift for his bride.”
“A very thoughtful man.”
“Yes, God rest his soul. You seem to have more than a casual interest in gems, Mr. Winston, and certainly more than the typical gentleman.”
His shoulders went back a little farther, and he lifted his chin proudly. “With good reason, Your Grace. I am a master jeweler, and I work for the prince. I seek out rare gems and gold pieces and buy them for him.”
Susannah raised her eyebrows. This man had given her the perfect invitation to ask about pearls. He couldn’t have been more accommodating if she’d planned the entire conversation ahead of time.
“What an important job that must be.”
He laughed lightly and then sniffed, obviously pleased with himself. “Yes, quite. It is an honor to serve the prince. He has quite the passion for exquisite gems, and I’ve been fortunate to add many to his collection.”
“I’m intrigued. How would you go about doing something like that?” she asked innocently.
“Mostly from private sales, of course. For instance, someone might have seen this magnificent emerald you are wearing tonight and mention it to me. I would then approach you and ask to see it.” He stopped and moistened his lips. “If I thought it might be something that would catch the prince’s attention or something he would desire, then I would ask if you wanted to part with it for a sum of money far greater than its value.”
“And what is the usual outcome?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes people will sell, and sometimes they won’t,” the man said, noticeably happy that he could give her so much information about his work. “I know the prince would be pleased to add your emerald to his collection. Tell me, do you have any interest in parting with it?”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly, but what an honor for you to work for the prince. Tell me, does the prince ever wear pearls, or only precious stones and gold?”
Mr. Winston didn’t blink, hesitate, or do anything suspicious at the mention of pearls. Surprisingly, he gave her a knowing smile and said, “No doubt you’ve met, or, at least, you have seen the gentleman here tonight who is wearing pearls. If the prince had a collection like that man, he would probably rather see them on a lady than on himself.”
Susannah carefully watched every facial expression and mannerism, but Mr. Winston didn’t seem to be the least bit nervous that she had mentioned pearls. But that could be because he was so confident in his position as jeweler for the prince, and it didn’t necessarily mean he had not stolen the necklace.
“You’re talking about Captain Spyglass, are you not?”
“Yes. He’s wearing a magnificent pearl cluster ring tonight and the most beautiful rosette brooch I have ever seen. I’ve heard quite a bit about the man and after we were introduced, I asked him if I might take a look at his collection while he is in London.” Mr. Winston stopped and rolled his eyes. “He said ‘perhaps,’ if you can believe that. Clearly, leaving no doubt he’s not one of the king’s subjects.”
Susannah couldn’t hide her smile. Mr. Winston didn’t appreciate the captain’s snub. “Maybe he is afraid you would offer to buy some of his pearls.”
“And I might. From all I’ve heard, the man’s fortune is in his pearls and that scandalous ship that sits in the harbor.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Susannah saw Race standing not far away, glaring at her with intensity while he talked to a young lady who didn’t seem to notice that his gaze was not on her. Susannah’s stomach jumped, and she was furious with herself that he could disturb her so pointedly.
Though she wanted nothing more than to run from Race, she held her ground and spoke with Mr. Winston for a little longer before excusing herself.
Susannah didn’t know where the ladies’ retiring room was located but decided to find it. She needed a few minutes to collect her thoughts. She wanted some time alone to think about what Mr. Winston had to say. Seeing Race was causing her more pain than she had imagined and she wanted to get him off her mind.
As she turned down a dimly lit corridor, she heard someone call her name. She turned around and looked straight into the dark blue eyes of Lord Martin Downings, the man who had ruined her twelve years ago.
He was heavier around his middle, and of course, older than when she’d last seen him. His once thick, chestnut-colored hair was thinning on top and graying at his temples, but he was still a handsome man.
“Forgive me. I should have said, Your Grace.” He bowed arrogantly.
Staring at her former beau, Susannah realized she felt absolutely nothing for him. She had always wondered what she would feel if she ever saw him again. Would she be filled with the longing of unrequited love, bitterness, or even anger that he had rejected her all those years ago and left her to face alone the repercussions of their tryst? A calming peace washed through her, and she relaxed, knowing she felt none of those things. She had no more emotion for him than if she were meeting a complete stranger for the first time.
Susannah smiled and lifted her gloved hand for him to kiss. “Lord Martin, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, but you are looking well.”
He smiled and took the tips of her fingers in his and squeezed them a little firmer than necessary, making her immediately wary. He kept his dark blue gaze on her face while he kissed the back of her hand, letting his lips press overly long before lifting his head, stepping closer to her, and saying, “I’ve been in the Cotswolds for a few days and returned last evening to hear you were in Town and attending parties.” He moved closer to her, and in a low voice, said, “Why didn’t you let me know you were coming to London?”
Susannah thought his question presumptuous, but as she pulled her hand from his, said, “Why would I?”
He smiled suggestively. “So that we might get reacquainted, of course.” He stepped even closer to her, and Susannah backed up. “Surely you knew I would want to be with you again, privately, of course.”
Susannah gasped. She was insulted with Lord Martin’s forwardness and felt no compunction about not sparing his feelings.
She waited until a server passed them in the hallway and then said, “But I had no desire to see you.”
He pouted, lowering his head, showing his double chin, before raising his eyes to look at her face. “How can you say that after all we meant to each other?”
She smiled confidently at him. “Because it is true, Lord Martin. I know I really should be grateful to you, but the truth is, I’m not.”
His eyes lit up, and he smiled eagerly. “Grateful to me? Really?”
“Yes,” she said and waited for another server holding a tray of glasses to pass them before adding, “If you had offered to marry me twelve years ago, I would have accepted, and today I would be living a very dull life. As it is, my life has been exceedingly happy and full.”
His smile drooped. “Surely, you don’t mean that.”
“I do. Now, excuse me, I was just on my way to speak to someone.”
“Wait!”
She turned away, but Lord Martin grabbed her upper arm so suddenly and firmly that Susannah gasped. “How dare you touch me,” she whispered harshly. “Take your hands off me.”
“Not until you hear what I have to say. Duchess or not, I must explain my actions of long ago.”
She tried to pull free of him. “I will not hear what you have to say. Release me immediately.”
“What’s going on here?”
Susannah heard Race’s voice behind her and turned as his protective hand settled firmly against her back. A deep wrinkle of anger marred his brow, and his gaze shot daggers at Lord Martin.
&n
bsp; Lord Martin snatched his arm back as if she’d suddenly burned him, and he stepped away from her.
“Nothing, my lord,” Lord Martin said, pulling nervously on the tail of his coat.
“Good,” Race said and then glanced down at Susannah. “I believe this dance is mine, and it’s starting right now.” He looked back at Lord Martin and coldly said, “Touch her again, and I will break your hand.”
Lord Martin huffed. “How dare you be so offensive, my lord!”
Race reached over and grabbed him by his neck-cloth and shoved him aside. The trembling man stumbled back and almost fell.
“You don’t know what offensive is, yet.” Race didn’t take his deadly stare off Lord Martin. “Waylay her again, and you’ll find out.”
With his hand confidently on her back, Race started propelling Susannah forward.
“What do you think you are doing?” she asked as she walked beside him toward the dance floor.
“As Lord Chesterfield always used to say, ‘I’m saving you from a fate worse than death.’”
“If I wasn’t still so angry with you, I would laugh at that. You know good and well Lord Chesterfield never said anything of the kind.”
“Really?” he questioned, sweeping her with his hot gaze. “I thought he did. Must have been Gibby.”
Susannah inhaled deeply. She was too attracted to Race for her own good. Why did she want to laugh at his silly attempt at humor? Why did she feel like the luckiest woman in the world to be walking by his side? Why did just looking at him thrill her very soul? Why didn’t she hate the very sight of him for making passionate love to her one night and tearing her heart out the next morning?
“I watched Lord Martin kiss your hand as if he wanted to eat your entire arm.”
That was exactly what his kiss had felt like. She was tempted once again to smile at Race but was able to suppress the urge.
“I can manage Lord Martin without your interference or your brute help,” she assured Race.
“Can you?”
“Yes, and I can handle you, as well.”
“Handle me, Susannah. Tell me I’m the worst kind of beast and I treated you appallingly and you never want to speak to me again.”
