by Lily George
“But what Nan says is true. If I barge in there and try to bend her to my will because it’s what I feel is right, then she will drive me away from pride. There is nothing I can do or say to make the matter acceptable to her. To make her understand...” He trailed off, for the words would no longer come. If only he wasn’t such an inarticulate fool.
“What would you like her to understand?” Becky’s sweet voice was cajoling him, lifting the veil that stood between himself and his actions, his words.
He closed his eyes. The autumn wind sang through the trees, rattling the leaves as they began to fall. He breathed in deeply. Smoke drifted on the air and stung his nostrils. The sounds and smells of Goodwin comforted him—wrapping around him as securely as a blanket. At that moment, and at that time, Goodwin gave him courage as nothing else had. For the first time in his life, his house was his home, enveloping him and strengthening him in the way his family never could.
He opened his eyes to find the Siddons girls staring at him. No, not the Siddons girls. The Siddons sisters. His sisters, if they wanted to claim the kinship.
“I want Susannah to understand that I want her to marry me. In truth, this time. No false engagements, no wishes to evade anything or anyone.”
“Because?” Nan prompted, and Becky followed the single word with a quick jab to her sister’s right side. “Ouch.”
“No. No more. What needs to be said, I must say to your sister. Now, go inside, the pair of you.”
He strode off, leaving them behind. He was, at last, a hero with a purpose and a strategy.
Now, to get the damsel in distress to agree to his plan.
Chapter Sixteen
Whatever was that noise? Susannah sat up in bed, her hair tumbling down her back, her heart racing. Had she drifted asleep, and this was just a dream?
No, there it was again. A decided pounding at the door. She shoved her hair out of the way and fumbled with her slippers. Perhaps it was a customer or perhaps—more likely—someone else had come to cancel their order. Well, jolly good, then. It wouldn’t matter if she looked a sight or not. And according to her reflection in the looking glass, she most certainly did look a disaster.
She scurried down the staircase. “Wait a moment,” she called.
A deep, familiar voice answered. “Do hurry, Susy.”
Daniel. What on earth was he doing here? She scrambled over to the door and unlatched it, shoving it open. “Daniel,” she seethed. “Make haste. You might be seen.”
He stepped over the threshold and latched the door behind him. “I really don’t care if I am, Susy. I’ve come here with no bad intentions, and everything that has transpired between us since you set foot in Tansley has been quite proper.”
“You don’t understand.” Gracious. She surveyed him as he crossed the room, her brain still addled from being awoken so abruptly from her rest. Here, just an hour before, she had wished for him to be near so she could confide all her troubles in him. And now he sat before her, his hat in his hands, bereft of cravat and quite windblown. Surely she was dreaming. “Everyone knows—”
“I know, too.” He tossed his hat onto the hearth and leaned forward, clasping his hands. “Your sisters told me everything.”
“Nan and Becky?” They told her they were going to do the marketing. A strange mixture of anger, pride and gratitude began to swell within her chest. “To go behind my back...to...to...” she sputtered. Really, there were no words for the emotions that swirled within her, but whatever it was certainly made her dizzy. She touched her temple gingerly.
“Don’t be angry at your sisters. What they did was right. I know your formidable pride, Susy. And I know how very willful you can be. But didn’t it ever occur to you that I might want to know the truth? After all, I have a right to know. My behavior has put you at risk of losing everything. I’ve come to make matters right.” He took her hands in his and drew her down beside him on the settee.
This was quite strange. Susannah swallowed and tried to pull her hands free, but they remained trapped within his warm grasp. She fought hard to look him in the eye, but ’twas difficult, her heart fluttered so. And there was a thread of anger running through the flutters, as if she despised herself for being so affected by him to begin with.
“I’ve come to ask you to marry me, Susannah. In truth this time. Not an extended farce with a decidedly bad ending.” He gave her a crooked grin.
Was this his attempt at making things right? Or was it merely a joke in poor taste? She gave her hands a final wrench and set them free. “You are talking nonsense. And I wish you would stop. It’s bad form. And moreover, if anyone sees that you are here, I might as well lock up my shop forever and wander the moors as a beggar.”
“I don’t care what other people think.” Daniel lowered his brows and fixed her with his piercing green gaze. “I only care about—” He broke off abruptly, his expression clouded.
Susannah’s heart pounded in her chest. “Of course you don’t care about other people, Daniel! You’ve never had to.” Oh, this selfishness. His cocoon of wealth and privilege. When would he ever learn? “I don’t know how to stem the tide of disaster myself, but I know that your being here and exposing us both to further scandal shan’t help matters.” She rose and turned toward the door. “You should go.”
“No.” He rose, too, towering over her. She gulped. She had forgotten how very tall he was. She had to crane her neck backward just a bit to look him in the face. “I’m not going anywhere. Susy, you must see how this is as much my disaster as yours. And I want to help you.”
“You offer marriage out of pity and nothing more.” ’Twas difficult to say, and, judging by the way his expression hardened, not terribly pleasant for him to hear. She didn’t mean to hurt him, but she couldn’t bear pity. Not from him. Not when he’d hurt her so many years before. She softened a bit. “I know you mean well...”
“Why must you look at things in terms only of value, of repayment?” Daniel yelled, striding across the room. “You think only of my offer as a manner of charity for you. Do you have any idea what it means to me?”
He’d never raised his voice to her before. Always, their moments had been joking, or anxious, or even tender. But now—his expression was wounded. His voice was raw. Daniel’s proposal was serious, and it must mean something to him beyond an offering of kindness.
She took a deep, steadying breath. “Go on,” she murmured.
Daniel’s head snapped up and he fixed her with such a powerful stare that it quite took her breath away. “What I did was wrong, so many years ago. And I apologized, yet I feel that apologies were not enough. And I want to make amends for it because my behavior has jeopardized all you hold dear.”
Yes. That was understandable. But marriage? She would need more justification than simple regret to start a successful marriage.
“I want to protect you. When I heard that some rogue was cheeky with you today, Susy, I was ready to kill him. And the townspeople turning their backs on you? Why, you are more pure, more innocent than anyone I know. And I admire you.”
“Thank you.” She exhaled slowly. It was not an admission of love, yet—’twas good to have someone want to kill a scoundrel for being flirtatious with her. No one had cared enough about her to stand up for her before. It was nice to have someone recognize and cherish her. And the burden of loneliness somehow abated when Daniel spoke to her thus.
“When I propose marriage, it is in some ways to right that wrong I committed a long while ago. And it is also a plea because I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to be the fellow who dodges and ducks and weaves any longer. I want life at Goodwin, and I want you there with me.”
Never any words of love, not yet. Words of admiration, of friendship, of wanting to make amends. Could that be enough? Would she be happy with him? And could she make him happy enough
in return?
On the other hand, that burden of loneliness—it eased when he was around.
But—could she leave the shop behind? The shop was akin to a living thing, something she was nurturing and developing into a healthy, resilient being. She couldn’t abandon it. Not now. Not when there was so much trouble that could kill it.
“Could I keep the shop?” It was an incongruous answer to the question he’d posed, but she couldn’t bite the words back any longer.
He raised his eyebrows. “I suppose,” he replied in a surprised tone. “If that’s what you wish.”
“It is.” Well, it seemed to be, anyway. Though it felt odd to ask, she couldn’t let go of her only means of independence. Not yet.
“So...is that a yes?” He was looking at her in such a strange fashion. As though the well-being of the entire world depended upon her answer.
“I suppose it is.” It wasn’t entirely an ungracious response. Just hesitant.
Daniel nodded and squared his jaw. “We should think of the wedding, then. I can procure a special license, or we can have a traditional wedding in St. Mary’s. Reading of the banns, and all that.”
“Yes. Of course. The wedding.” Like that. They were engaged again just like that. The years of sorrow and anger neatly swept away, and a future as mistress of Goodwin Hall before her.
“I don’t have a ring.” Daniel looked abashed, as though he’d read her thoughts and her blank astonishment. “But I shall get one. A string won’t do this time. We shall handle matters properly.”
She nodded. He was right—everything must be formal and decorous between them, and that meant having a ring. “Thank you.”
They stood for a moment, facing each other across the room, but Susannah found it hard to meet his gaze. She snatched for ideas of what to say next, as though they were stray bits of hay floating by on the breeze. Daniel’s wife. She was going to marry Daniel. There was a solemnity to that thought, one that was both sobering and strangely right.
“Shall I get a special license? The sooner we are married, the sooner the talk in the village will die down.” Daniel took a step to close the gap between them, and Susannah dared herself to look him in the eye. Should she marry quickly, then? Daniel was wealthy and powerful enough to secure a license somehow, and that would end village speculation that much sooner.
And yet—the thought of becoming his wife would take getting used to. Perhaps village talk would die down once the banns were read the first time. And she could adjust to the idea of marrying Daniel and settling in to life at the Hall. And his drinking—well, that was a problem, too. She would have to find a way to help stop his reliance on the bottle.
“I need more time,” she blurted. “A traditional wedding ceremony at St. Mary’s sounds fine.”
He nodded. “Very well.”
Another silence stretched before them. Her nerves were wearing thin. She needed time to think, to contemplate, to talk to Nan and Becky. And come to that, where were Nan and Becky? “Did my sisters go to the village to finish the marketing after they met you?”
“No. They stayed at the Hall. I instructed Baxter to send them home in my carriage. They should be here in just a few moments.”
“Thank you for taking care of them.” She managed a smile. Funny, weren’t engagements supposed to be joyful? And both times she became engaged to Daniel, ’twas to avert disaster. So a sense of joy pervaded neither—only a feeling of protection and security.
He didn’t love her. And she wasn’t sure she loved him. He was so charming—could one ever really believe anything he said or did? But she appreciated Daniel for all his kindness, his sense of humor, his frank generosity. Surely that could be enough.
“Well, then. I shall go to St. Mary’s and see about the banns,” Daniel replied, shifting awkwardly. “And I shall get a ring. I suppose we should be wed as soon as the banns are read?”
“Yes. Please ask Reverend Kirk what we should do.” The kindly old reverend would be able to help them muddle through the intricacies of setting the wedding date. What seemed so momentous to them would likely be a minor diversion for the reverend. “And once you know the date, I shall begin to prepare my dress.”
He stood there, before the hearth, looking abashed and nervous as a schoolboy. Her heart surged with warmth for him. Dearest Daniel. She strode over to the hearth and picked up his hat, handing it to him. “Off you go, then.”
He took his hat, offering the same crooked grin that won her affection when they were children. “Off I go, then.”
She followed him across the room, a thousand questions beginning to form in her mind. How would she continue to care for the shop as mistress of the Hall? How was she going to fill that role? And what would be expected of her as his wife?
He grasped the door latch and turned toward her. “Everything will be all right, Susy. You have my word on it.”
Again, that surge of warmth and gratitude flooded her soul. For the first time in ages, she couldn’t think of a sharp retort or a witty insult to him pledging his word. In fact, she felt no rancor at all. Funny, at this moment it was easy to forget how skillfully he could use his charm. Instead, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his jawline. “I want to believe you.”
Daniel looked down at her with an intense expression in his eyes but said nothing. In a moment, he was gone.
She latched the door shut behind him and turned to watch him canter off across the moor on his horse.
She was engaged to Daniel Hale, once more. Only this time, he’d said he would keep his promise. She’d have to try to believe him.
But just in case, she’d hold on to her little shop a bit longer.
* * *
“So Baxter sent us home in a carriage,” Becky explained to Susannah that night as they brushed out their hair. “And he said Daniel had ordered all the dustcovers be taken away from the furniture. The house was in an uproar when we left.”
“I think it’s jolly good that you and Daniel are finally getting married,” Nan pronounced, unwinding a tangle in one long ringlet. “The talk in the village will die down. And you can finally have your happily-ever-after, Susannah.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it that.” Susannah tucked her knees up to her chin and wrapped her quilt around her body for more warmth. “But I do think it is the right thing to do.”
“What do you mean?” Becky glanced over at Susannah. “Isn’t he falling in love with you?”
Susannah’s heart skipped a beat. She dropped her hairbrush on the floor, where it landed with a decided clatter. “Don’t be silly.”
“He can’t say it yet, but he’s probably head over heels for you, Sue.” Nan scooped up the brush and handed it back to her sister.
“Rubbish.” She worked the brush through her hair with stubborn strokes. “Daniel doesn’t love me. He admires me.”
“Yes. And love and admiration are not the same thing, which is what I told him when he said as much to me,” Nan said. “But something in his expression made me believe that he was. He may be in love with you and may not even know it yet.”
“And you might love him, too, and not know it yet,” Becky chimed in. “After all, meeting him again, after all this time—it’s not a mere coincidence. And still caring enough about him that you took care of him when he was sick.”
Sick with drink, of course, but her younger sisters need not know that. Daniel had simply told her sisters what they wanted to hear; when speaking to her this afternoon, he had been much more practical. As he should be. “I do think fondly of Daniel, and I do like him a lot, but I am not marrying for love. It will be rather a mock marriage, I think. Something to help us both. I enjoy Daniel’s company. He says he wants to marry me to protect me and to care for me. That is a good thing. I cannot say no to that.”
Her sisters shared a sideways gla
nce, and Susannah sighed. “Stop it, both of you. Nothing will change. I shall even find a way to manage the shop once I become mistress of the Hall. We’ve agreed to it.”
“Don’t be absurd.” Nan turned to face Susannah, her eyebrows raised. “Your duties will be at the Hall. There are tenants to manage, menus to plan, rooms to furnish. How on earth will you have the time to manage the shop?”
“Not to mention that it simply isn’t done,” Becky added in a gentler tone than her sister’s. “If Daniel agreed to it, then that shows how very eager he is to compromise so that you will marry him. But as mistress of the Hall, your days will be full. You’ll have very little time to manage anything but your obligations on the estate.”
Susannah fought a rising tide of panic and licked her lips so she could respond. “But if I don’t manage the store, who will?”
“We will, of course.” Nan reached over and patted her on the shoulder. “Never mind about us. If we have questions, ’tis but a short buggy ride to the Hall. We can ask for assistance and even discuss matters with you every week.”
“Or every day, if need be.” Becky rose and walked over to Susannah’s cot. “Come, now. We have been trained by the very best shopkeeper there is. Susannah Siddons. We shall be able to manage beautifully.”
Susannah gave her sisters a halfhearted smile. Of course they might. But they were so young. For as long as she could remember, they had been her sole responsibility. Everything she had done, she had done to protect them and secure their independence. And now—could she really leave them and her beloved shop behind? They had been everything to her—her reason for being, in fact.
“You should go round to the Hall tomorrow. Take a look at the tenants’ homes, and see what must be done about the place. Daniel hasn’t been very thorough keeping the place up. There is bound to be much to do.” Nan helped Susannah lie down, and Becky tucked the quilt about her. Susannah rolled her eyes. Lovely. Now they were treating her as though she were old and decrepit, unable to see to herself.
