by Lily George
And that made sense at the time. Unhappy relationships were his lot in life. He had no idea how a couple in love should act. He’d certainly never seen it for himself.
His mother had died when he was still quite young—hounded to death, so village rumor ran, by her sour and cruel husband. By the time Daniel was old enough to think and feel for himself, Father had lapsed from abusive to merely domineering, while his distant brother sat dully about the house. He hated everything about family. Family meant duties and obligations. Family meant silent meals, recriminations over one’s personal foibles, absentminded reminders that he really never had lived up to anything in his father’s estimation.
And falling in love meant marriage. And marriage led to families. And that would merely start the miserable process all over again.
That was precisely why he’d run away.
The Hall loomed in the distance. Its solid presence nothing more than a stark reminder of his family and his failings. Small wonder he shirked his duties to seek fun and adventure. And now, in the bitterest of ironies, he was in charge of everything he’d once cast aside. And Susannah had returned, too, another link to his regretful past. He craved the abyss that drinking a bit more than he should would bring on. Good thing Paul was coming this evening. He would have someone to drink with, and that was decidedly more cheerful than being alone.
He strode up the drive, his boots crunching on the gravel, preparing to at least get a bit of a head start on Paul.
But—of course, there was a slight hitch in his plans. Paul stood on the front steps, his angular face alight with laughter. “What ho, man? Been to the village to check on Miss Siddons? That’s a gentleman for you.”
“I walk to the village every morning,” Daniel responded evenly, refusing to take Paul’s bait. “You know that.” He brushed past his friend, taking the steps two at a time. He opened the front door and removed his hat and coat. “To what do I owe this dubious honor? Come early to steal a march on me?”
“Ah, well. Life at home is most awfully dull. I decided I would head back to London this week, so I thought you might not mind some early company. Is that all right?”
“Certainly, certainly. The earlier the better.” Daniel ushered Paul through the front door.
“So, if you are determined to stay here, what may I bring you from Town to amuse yourself? A new horse, perhaps? Or a new wife?” Paul cast his hat on the hall bench and stripped off his gloves.
Daniel spun around. “What?” Most of the time Paul’s teasing was tolerable, but now—it struck a bit too close to home to be amusing.
“Here you are with a big country home. Plenty of money. It’s positively un-British that you aren’t seeking a wife.” Paul shrugged his shoulders. “Watching you with Miss Siddons yesterday, it occurred to me that the pair of you made quite a picture.”
“You’re as bad as an old maiden aunt, Paul. Why are you so intent on marrying me off? Are you trying to narrow the competition for the ladies?” He slapped his friend on the shoulder and led the way to the library.
“No, of course not. I’m enjoying the bachelor life whilst I can.” Paul fell silent for a rare moment, a moody expression crossing his face as he settled into a leather chair. Perhaps he’d overstepped his teasing with Paul—perhaps Paul was still really upset about Ruth Barclay. But no, in a blink the expression had vanished, and Paul leaned forward, an incorrigible gleam in his eye. “Though, I must say, Miss Siddons does rather make a fellow want to change his mind.”
Paul was never going to stop nattering on about Susannah. He thought her pretty and would likely try to court her if Daniel didn’t put a stop to the silliness. He eyed his friend as Paul settled back against the cushion. Could he be trusted with a secret?
“You can’t have Susannah Siddons,” he replied evenly. “She’s already spoken for.” There, perhaps that would be enough to throw Paul off the scent.
“Really? How fantastic. I shall have to nose about until I find the fellow. Of course, I could always court one of her sisters. They’re quite tolerable, too.”
Nose about? Paul really was like a hound on the trail. There was nothing for it but to confess the truth to his friend. Only then would the matter cease to worry them both.
“I’m the fellow. Congratulate me, Paul. Susannah Siddons has been my betrothed for these past three years.”
Chapter Three
“Indeed?” Paul quirked an eyebrow with amusement. “If it’s true, then why haven’t you married? And why isn’t she here with you, in Goodwin Hall? Why is she staying in a hovel?”
“’Twas meant as a way to keep her uncle Arthur from forcing her into a marriage she didn’t want. We concocted the plan.” Daniel’s fists clenched at the memory. “Her aunt was browbeating her into marrying some fat, doddering fool of a country squire. And the blackguard spent all their money. She went from being a gentleman’s daughter to an apprentice milliner. Her family left Tansley when she was still a young lass. And her parents died soon after. So within a couple of years after their passing, her life turned upside down.” He heaved a deep sigh.
“And you never married?” Paul shrugged his shoulders. “What happened that kept you apart?”
“We never had a formal plan.” There was no excusing it, or even explaining it. “I never received a letter from her, so I assumed she had found another way out. And I was enjoying my life on the sea. It was a passion of mine.”
“You’ll forgive me for saying so, but you were passionate about the wrong thing entirely,” Paul replied in a tone so dry that Daniel winced. “So, if she’s not your fiancée in truth, then she must be fair game.”
“She’s not one of your light skirts, Paul. She may have to work for a living, but she’s not what I will allow you to consider fair game.” He stalked over to the decanters and began pouring out the rich amber liquid.
Paul gave a short bark of laughter. “I don’t think of every woman in that way.”
Daniel slanted his gaze over at his friend as he handed him his drink. “Don’t you, old fellow?”
“I may have been unhappy in love, but I declare that a lady like Susannah could make a chap believe in the theory of marriage again. Those magnificent eyes...that Titian hair...”
“Enough.” He didn’t appreciate Paul cataloging Susy’s physical attributes. He couldn’t suppress the proprietary feeling that arose from deep within. Whether she admitted to it or not, he couldn’t stop thinking of her as his fiancée. And there needed to be a sense of propriety about that fact. “Anything more about her beauty and I’ll be hard pressed not to plant you a facer.”
“Fine, fine. Truce, and all that.” Paul held his palms in the air in supplication. “I shan’t say another word.” The secretive, absorbed expression on his friend’s face showed that, though he would refrain from speaking about Susannah, he’d not cease in thinking about her. “What do you intend to do now?”
“When I spoke to Susannah this morning, I alluded to our problem,” he admitted. “But she indicated that she had no interest in renewing even my friendship, to say nothing of our engagement. She’s proud, Paul. Very proud. I have to step carefully if I am to keep from offending her.”
“How did you broach the subject?” Paul took a long sip of his scotch with nary a shudder.
“Well, I...uh...” How embarrassing to rehash the disastrous conversation. Better to keep it short. “That she could come to tea here at the Hall.”
Paul shook his head gravely, rolling his eyes. “I am sure she leaped at the opportunity,” he mocked, his voice dripping sarcasm.
Daniel shrugged, concealing his annoyance at Paul’s tone. “What? I couldn’t very well profess my undying love for her. She’s got brains and is quite acute, Paul. She’d know it was a lie. I’m not going to insult her intelligence.”
“And so, instead, you invite
d her to a tea party?” Paul set aside his empty glass and made an impatient movement with his hands. “I quite understand that you couldn’t very well sweep her into your arms. But what of romance? Surely you should woo the lady a bit first.”
“I wouldn’t even know how to start. I don’t love her, you know.” Daniel rubbed a weary hand over his brow. How extraordinary to court one’s own fiancée. Most fellows went about it the other way around. “And I have no knowledge of happy marriages. Or of romance.”
“Plenty of marriages have been built on less.” Paul narrowed his eyes, predatory as a panther. “What do you want from her, anyway?”
“I want to help. When I went to sea, old man, I had much to keep me occupied. I had no idea where Susannah had gone, or what happened to her. I never got any letters from her, you see. So I just—” He broke off a moment, fumbling to find the right words. “I never forgot her. I just let the matter go. As I have with everything else in this blighted village.”
“I know your family life was rather awful.” Paul stood and helped himself to another tumbler of scotch. “I have been unhappy in love, but at least I grew up in a loving home. In fact—if you want my advice—don’t think of her in terms of love. Don’t seize control of anything. Simply be kind to her. It never hurts to have a pretty gel’s favor, you know.”
“Being friends. That sounds rather nice.” He cleared his throat and began anew. “How should I start?”
“Remember what she likes. Poetry, flowers and whatnot. Women like jewels, too, but that could be considered too forward if your intentions are honorable.” Paul settled back in his chair. “And if they aren’t, you certainly don’t need my advice for that.”
Daniel scowled at Paul. “Of course my intentions are honorable.”
Befriending Susannah Siddons would be no ordinary task. She wasn’t like other women, not even when she was a slip of a girl. She was sharp and bright and had a disconcerting habit of laughing at you when she thought you weren’t being sincere. So, giving her jewels and silks would be quite out of the question. He’d have to be more original than that.
“They’re most dreadfully poor, you know. From a gentleman’s daughter, she’s gone into trade,” he muttered. “Rather painful to see that. Perhaps I could help. When I saw her this morning, she was buying food.”
“That’s easy enough to handle. Send her a hamper. Load it with every delicious morsel you can think of.” Paul waved his hands as though the problem had been decisively solved.
“A good idea.” He’d ask Cook to put something together. Susannah would have something to eat. And maybe she would think kindly on him. And they could be friends.
Life wouldn’t seem so bleak then.
“Hear, hear. Go on, then. Ring the bell. And while you’re ordering the Siddons dinner, make sure to ask for something for us, too? I vow, I am feeling my liquor far too quickly, and it’s due to this empty stomach.” Paul slapped his midsection and groaned.
Daniel nodded and headed for the bellpull. Yes, this was a good plan. ’Twas the only way he could begin to bridge the gap of the past.
* * *
“We won’t accept it. Take it back.” Susannah scowled at the maid before her, drawing herself up to her full height—small though that was. “While we appreciate Mr. Hale’s generosity—”
“Sue, please.” Nan popped her head around the door frame and eyed the basket of food hungrily. “It’s a hospitable gesture and nothing more. Don’t be so missish.”
Susannah glared at her younger sister, who responded by widening her already large brown eyes appealingly. Then she swallowed, for the tantalizing smells drifting up from the basket the servant held were almost too good to endure. They’d finished the cinnamon bread at luncheon, and after a hard day of scrubbing and putting the cottage to rights, all three sisters were famished.
“Mr. Hale said he must insist.” The maid shifted her weight from one foot to the other and placed the heavy basket on the front stoop. “I’ll just leave it here and be on me way. I’m late for me own tea as ʼtis.” The maid rubbed her palms on her apron, and with a cheeky wave, set off across the dwindling path toward Goodwin Hall.
Nan scooped up the basket. “Becky, there’s food,” she called indoors. “Oh, ’tis heavy. Susannah, grab hold and help me carry it.”
Susannah unfolded her arms and grabbed one of the basket handles. Oh, gracious, was that chicken she smelled? A roast chicken? Her stomach grumbled in appreciation.
“Food? From whom?” Becky hastened forward to help, and together, the three sisters plunked the basket on the table. Susannah took a step backward as her sisters plundered the basket. As they dug out dish after dish, a scrap of foolscap fluttered to the bare wood floor. She grasped it and unrolled it carefully.
“Pies—meat and fruit. Oh, Becky, it’s fairly oozing berries. I cannot wait to try this.”
“Nan, do look! Bread and cheese, and a tin of tea. It’s too much, I tell you. We shall feast for a week on this.”
Susannah eyed her sisters as she opened the parchment. They were too busy to take any notice of her, so she strolled over to the firelight to better read the note. Good gracious, Daniel’s handwriting had grown wobbly over the years.
Dear Susannah,
I thought perhaps you’d have few provisions laid in and thought I would send a few things from the Hall. Perhaps this will help make your first few days in Tansley more enjoyable.
Please do not hesitate to call upon me if you are in need of anything.
I am, as ever,
Your humble servant Daniel
“Whatever are you reading, Sue?” Nan demanded, a loaf of crusty bread in each hand. “Come, sit down. We shall have a feast worthy of all our hard work.”
“She’s reading a love letter from her fiancé, no doubt,” Becky answered, giving Nan a wink. “After all, we owe this largesse to him.”
“Hush. Both of you.” Susannah cast the foolscap into the fire and folded her arms across her chest. “My engagement to Daniel helped us out of a dreadful situation. ’Tis no cause for levity.”
Becky bit her lip and cast her eyes down at her plate. “I’m sorry.”
Susannah sighed, looking at them both. They had worked hard all day—and they had earned a decent meal. In fact, until Daniel’s servant showed up at the door, she’d had no idea what they were going to eat for dinner. So...she would merely have to swallow her pride on this one. Let the girls enjoy a real feast. It was terribly kind of Daniel to think of them, after all.
“Enjoy your feast,” she said quietly. “You’ve earned every mouthful.”
“You, too, Sue.” Nan patted the chair beside her. “You’ll feel much better after you’ve had a bite to eat.” She bowed her head and led them in prayer.
And the remarkable thing was—she did. ’Twas amazing how a dinner of chicken, bread and cheese could take the edge off the harshness of life. And there were apples, too. She crunched into the bright red fruit happily, relishing its sweet juice. Even the thinness seemed to go out of her sisters’ cheeks and they looked positively rosy.
As darkness fell over the cottage, illuminated only by a few candles and the firelight, even its rough edges appeared more attractive. Susannah sat back in her chair, meditatively twirling the apple core on her plate. They might—just might—do quite well in Tansley. The baker had thought so, and she was a woman who had her own shop. She had started young, too. So perhaps this was no chance meeting this morning. Perhaps it was a good omen. A sign of His blessing, even.
She glanced across the table at her sisters. Nan had pushed her plate aside and laid her head down on the burnished wood. The slow rise and fall of her shoulders indicated that she was sleeping deeply. Susannah shook her head and a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. She’d have to move Nan soon, or her sister would awaken with a terribly stiff
neck.
“Susy?” Becky murmured softly. “What made you decide to marry Daniel Hale?”
Susannah stopped toying with her apple core. “You know why. Uncle was going to make me marry that lout Sheppard. And so I asked Daniel for his help.”
“Yes, but why Daniel? There were other boys living near us. Why did you go to him above anyone else? Why did you seek him out instead of running away?” Becky tilted her head and gazed at Susannah intently.
“Well, if I had run away, I would have had to leave you two behind. So that would have been a foolish idea.” She sighed. Why had she asked Daniel? It had seemed like the natural decision back then. She hadn’t even questioned it. “Well, he was there. He had come to Bath to visit some of his family, and we could meet each other that way. It all just fell into place, you see. And I suppose I asked Daniel because he always knew how to get out of tricky situations. That was his charm. I knew I could depend on him to help me out of that mess.”
Becky leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “That’s nice. So why don’t you think you can depend on him now?”
Susannah flicked a glance at Nan as she lay cradling her head on the table. “Shush. You’ll wake your sister.” In truth, she didn’t want to think about the matter, much less hash it over with Becky. She couldn’t focus on the past. She had to plan for the future.
“She’s sleeping. She’ll sleep for hours like that if we let her.” Becky wound her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. “Doesn’t it seem...odd...to you that we should come home to Tansley only to find your fiancé here? Almost like fate or destiny.” Her tone grew shivery and romantic.
