by Lily George
Chapter Twenty
“So, if I understand you correctly, there is no wine and no liquor in Goodwin to be had.” Paul looked at his teacup with a dismal frown. “Have you gone mad, my good fellow?”
“Not at all.” Daniel leaned back in his chair and glanced down the length of the dinner table at his friend. “Susannah asked me to stop drinking, and I did so. I want to make her happy. Besides, the management of Goodwin is coming much easier to me now that I’m not in my cups all the time.”
“Where is my friend Daniel? Whatever has possessed you? There are plenty of ways to make a lass happy. Gowns. Jewels. I am certain your mother has some bits of sparkle you can give her as a wedding present.” Paul pushed the teacup aside with a shudder.
“Susannah would not be easily persuaded or pleased by any of those things,” Daniel replied with a snort. “She is not the type of girl whose head is turned by a pretty bauble. She’s strong, independent and resourceful—and for some reason, she’s decided she can bear to spend the rest of her life with me. If it means I must stop drinking, then I shall.”
“What do you mean—she’s decided to bear it?” Having given up on his tea entirely, Paul turned his attention to the baked chicken on his plate. “I know your engagement is in part due to my slip of the tongue, but surely she must want this life. What girl wouldn’t?”
“Ah, yes.” Daniel grinned at his dinner companion. “Of course, any girl would want this. A house in dire need of a mistress after years of neglect. A former drunkard for a husband. And the censure of an entire village because of an incident—quite beyond her control—that occurred when she was too young to think and act sensibly. Yes. Any lass would want this.” He toyed with his fork, drawing a spiral pattern in the saffron sauce on his plate.
“You sound maudlin. Are you so bitter at heart?”
Paul was mocking him. That teasing tone of voice would be a welcome invitation to spar at any other time, but not now. What he felt for Susannah was too private, too dear. He couldn’t bear to hear anyone speak lightly of her, or of their situation.
“Paul, we do not have scotch here at our disposal to loosen my tongue and assist me in waxing poetic. But Susannah means more to me than anything. I am blessed beyond measure at her acceptance of my hand. And if she told me to journey to Timbuktu and back before winning her hand, I would do so. She merely asked me to give up drinking. And I have.”
The corner of Paul’s mouth turned downward. “You sound as though you are in love with her.”
“I might be at that.” Admitting it out loud to someone was both terrifying and liberating. He struggled to keep his countenance even and impassive. Showing the depth of his emotion would only provoke more teasing from Paul, so he would settle for acknowledging the truth.
“Good gracious, man, that is astounding news. I’d offer to stand you a toast, but seeing as how you are a teetotaler, I can’t very well do that.” Paul raised his teacup instead. “And how does the lady feel?”
Daniel’s elation crashed down about his ears. “I don’t know how she feels about me,” he admitted. In fact, if the truth be told, he was scared to know her true feelings about him. “I know she loves Goodwin. She must, or she wouldn’t care what happened to my tenants or to the house.”
“And when is the ceremony?” Paul took a careful sip of his tea and grimaced.
“She wants a traditional wedding, rather than a special license, to get used to the idea of marriage. She has to move away from her life as the head of her millinery shop and adjust to life as mistress of Goodwin. But as for how she feels about me...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I would almost rather not know, to be honest.”
“If you have three weeks left until the wedding, then you should woo her,” Paul pronounced, pounding his fist on the table until the silverware rattled. “If she’s not the kind of lass who likes jewels and flowers, then so be it. Find other ways to enchant her.”
“I don’t want her to fall in love with me because I buy her presents.” How could he make Paul understand? He wanted Susannah to fall in love with him, not with what he could buy her.
“It’s not about what you bring her. It’s showing love and affection through your actions.” Paul shook his head, giving Daniel a crooked smile. “You really don’t know anything about women, do you? Take it from a fellow who knows—use these three weeks as an opportunity to show her the depth of your emotion, and you may well be rewarded with her love in return.”
Baxter opened the door a crack. “Is there anything the matter, sir? Shall we clear the plates?”
That was Baxter and his sharp ears. Thanks to Paul’s pounding fist and meddling ways. “No. Nothing else. We shall retire in a moment to the study.”
“Very good, sir.” Baxter closed the door with a quiet click.
“In the first place, I’ll thank you not to lecture me in my own home and pound on the table. You bring the servants running.” Daniel cast a cool glance at his friend. “And do remember that Susannah is not one of your London light skirts. I won’t win her over easily, and certainly not in the span of a few weeks’ time.”
“I was in love once, too.” As he spoke, the color drained from Paul’s thin cheeks. “If you feel for Susannah what I felt for Ruth Barclay, then I am only begging you to heed the passage of time. Ruth was taken from me by fever. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of her and wish that I had her back.”
Ruth Barclay. Paul had suffered through the loss of his first love; it was not good form to assume Paul knew nothing of love or romance. “My apologies, old fellow. I shouldn’t have said that about light skirts, ’twas unfair.”
“Apology accepted.” Paul gave him a tight smile that cut short any further protestations. “Just heed my words.”
“I shall.” ’Twas an awkward moment, and one that could not be lightened or easily passed over by pouring more wine or filling a glass to the brim with scotch. In a few moments, they could retire to the study and enjoy brandy and cigars—no, wait. No brandy. Only cigars. This new life was difficult indeed to accustom himself to. He must find some other distraction. “In keeping with your advice, perhaps I could have Susannah and her sisters come by tomorrow. I need to discuss the plans for the tenants with Susannah and my estate manager. Perhaps you could play duenna and take care of her sisters for me. Take them out riding, or some such.” It would be good for Paul to be around the Siddons girls—they were both so fresh and lively and sweet. Their companionship might smooth away some of his jaded edges.
And it would be good for the girls to come and spend more time at the estate. It might make the transition from sister to wife easier for Susannah if her siblings were already intimately acquainted with Goodwin.
“Well, never let it be said that I shirked my duty as a friend.” Paul sighed. “Very well, I shall play nursemaid on the morrow. As long as you are not shirking your duty as a fiancé.”
“No, indeed.” He would have to spend the rest of the night thinking of ways to woo Susannah. He didn’t desire a loveless marriage with her; that was what he had witnessed as a small child. He would not be dour and cheerless like his father, and he would see to it that Susannah was happy. His desire was to keep her safe and protected. If he could somehow change matters, and cause Susannah to fall in love with him, then that would be the culmination of his dreams.
But how could a fellow woo a girl as strong and independent as Susannah? True, Mother’s jewels were in a vault in London—they would be rightfully hers as the new mistress of Goodwin.
But what else could he offer her?
He had nothing she would value, for certain.
* * *
“So, what does the message say?” Nan tried to grasp the foolscap away, but Susannah held it out of reach. “Why are you being so missish? After all, ’tis only from Daniel.”
“This kind of behavior is precisely why I feel wary of leaving the millinery shop in your care,” Susannah chided. Honestly. Sometimes Nan acted as though she were eight instead of nearly seventeen. “Do control yourself.”
“Nan, sit down,” Becky added, speaking up from her spot near the hearth. “You know that Susannah feels particularly odd at the moment regarding Daniel. She doesn’t have to marry him to save the shop. ’Tis natural for her to wish for some privacy.”
“Thank you for that, Becky.” Susannah stepped past Nan and settled in a chair opposite her sister. Everyone knew everything about her romantic life, it seemed. The village knew of her engagement, her sisters knew that she could break off said engagement at any time. Sometimes it would be nice to have everyone in the world focus on someone else’s private affairs. But since her sisters knew the whole of the tale already, she could at least rely upon them for advice. “The message is quite simple. We are bidden to Goodwin Hall tomorrow, if we wish. You girls may go out riding, and Daniel has requested my help with the tenants. We are to meet with his estate manager to discuss the matter.”
“A day off? Away from the shop?” Becky sat up straighter in her chair, her eyes glowing. “And riding, too?”
“Yes.” A pang of guilt assailed Susannah at Becky’s excitement. Poor girls. They never had a moment’s peace to enjoy life—they worked so hard, all of them. “If you want, we could close the shop and spend the day at Goodwin.”
“Wait a moment.” Nan stilled Becky’s eager gasp with a wave of her hand. “So, does this mean you’ve made your decision, then?”
“Decision about what?” Susannah folded up the scrap of foolscap and tossed it into the flames. Honestly, life with Nan was akin to life with a bloodhound at times, so determined was she to root out the absolute truth in every situation.
“Decision about marrying Daniel.” Nan flounced over to the hearth and sat between her sisters. “You can’t carry on with Daniel, mucking about at Goodwin for a day, if you intend to break off the engagement later.”
Susannah watched the scrap of foolscap turn black and crumble to ash. Nan was right. She must make a choice. She would have to break off the engagement right away if she wanted to keep the store under her care. The banns would be read day after tomorrow for the first time. So while village gossip had been contained, there was no official announcement of their engagement yet.
On the other hand, she had promised Daniel she would help him stop drinking. She couldn’t demand that of him and then leave him to handle it alone. Not when she’d vowed to support him. If she chose that path, she would never see Daniel again. They couldn’t very well be friends after that. Gossip would continue to link them together forever—or until he married someone else. Her heart pounded against her rib cage. Daniel—engaged to some other girl? Why did the mere thought of that possibility cause so much pain?
She pressed her hand against her heart to steady its beat. “I can’t make that decision now.”
Becky leaned over and swatted Nan’s knee. “Stop pestering her so, Nan. One visit to Goodwin would do no lasting harm. As of this moment, they are engaged. And that’s all the village cares about.”
“Well, I don’t mind a respite from all this work. And I do think that riding could be fun. So I shall hold my tongue about it until the morrow, when we return home,” Nan promised. “By the by, who will be riding with us when you are working with Daniel? A groom, I suppose.”
“Daniel’s friend Paul is home again from London. He will be over tomorrow and will ride with you. And, of course, you shall have a groom for propriety’s sake.” The words flowed out of Susannah, but she gave no thought to them. The idea of Daniel with another girl still occupied her mind.
“Paul? That blackguard? He’s the reason you’re in this mess,” Nan cried. “I shall give him a piece of my mind when I see him tomorrow.”
“You’ll do no such thing.” Susannah tucked the thought of Daniel and this fictional new girl away in the back of her mind and rose. “If you two wish to come with me, you shall be on your best behavior. Both of you. And I shall help Daniel, no matter what happens to our engagement. ’Twas I who pestered him into taking a hand to better the tenants’ lives.”
She shooed her sisters up to bed, over their groans of protest. And long after they said their prayers and blew out their candles, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling. What should she do? What was the right thing to do, for both of them?
She was a horrible person for feeling this way, but a dark part of her enjoyed the fact that, at long last, ’twas her decision to make. She could walk away from Daniel, just as he had walked away from her long ago. It was a powerful and intoxicating feeling, much like what Daniel must feel when drinking his liquor.
But...she liked Daniel. She always had. He was a natural part of her and had as much a place in her childhood as the moors that circled Tansley. Being with him was—oh, it was difficult to say. But it was as though he was as much a part of her being as breathing.
Those mischievous green eyes. His careless, easy way of moving, as though he was secure in the knowledge that he was master of all he touched. She could admit to herself here, in the dark, that she found him to be quite a handsome young man. And she could come to him of her own free will now. The barriers that had existed between them, barriers of betrayal and class and money, were swept away. Thanks to Miss Glaspell, she had gained her hard-won independence.
So, the question remained. Did she want to marry Daniel?
She turned on her side, causing the mattress to squeak in protest, and rubbed the pillow against the side of her cheek.
“Are you still awake, Susannah?” Becky whispered from her bed.
“Yes. I can’t sleep.” Susannah rolled over to face her sister in the darkness.
A scurry of slippered feet sounded across the wooden floor, and Becky sat next to her. “I was worried you might be. Never mind Nan. You know how she is. She wants to know the absolute truth of every situation.”
“I know.” Susannah scooted closer to the wall to give Becky more room. “But she is right. I can’t be friends with Daniel if I am going to break our engagement.”
Becky tucked her feet up onto the bed and covered them with a scrap on Susannah’s quilt. “I know that you love the shop and that you love us both. No one could have taken better care of us than you have, Susannah. Mother and Father would be proud.”
Sudden tears pricked the back of Susannah’s eyes, and she blinked rapidly. “Shush. You’ll wake Nan.”
“You know as well as I do that Nan doesn’t waken for anything. An orchestra could march through here playing as loudly as they wished, and she would sleep on.” Becky giggled. “I have to tell you this, though. Without Nan’s prying and nagging. You can let us go, Susannah.”
Susannah’s breath caught on a sob. “What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. You’ve cared for us forever. Let us go. You should be free to enjoy life. I’ve seen the way you look with Daniel—your face lights up, you laugh—’tis lovely to see. You mean the world to him, too, I think. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching.” Susannah gave a happy sigh. “We shall take care of the shop beautifully. And you—you need to explore this new life with Daniel.”
With Daniel. Funny—Becky’s words, murmured in the darkness, were releasing a part of her she hadn’t realized had been pent up for years. “I don’t know if I love him or not,” she admitted. It was easier to say it aloud to her sister than to herself, in a way.
“I know.” Becky patted her shoulder. “But give yourself time. Don’t run away from this new life because you think you still have to provide for us. And don’t turn away from Daniel because you worry that you don’t love him. Allow yourself the luxury, for once, of allowing things to happen rather than making them happen.”
Susannah laughe
d quietly, for she had no wish to awaken Nan. “You know me too well. And, pray tell, when did you become so wise?”
“I had a good teacher in my eldest sister.” Becky gave her shoulder a final pat and rose. “Now, let’s sleep. We don’t want to arrive at Goodwin with shadows under our eyes—though some poets might find that irresistible.”
Susannah grinned and tucked herself farther under her quilt. She was exhausted. So very, very tired. How much of her life had been spent pounding away, like a racehorse on the turf? Becky had opened the gate to turn her out to pasture. And for the first time in her life, she could just enjoy each day.
And she might, just might, enjoy those days with Daniel.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Beg pardon, sir, but you really should hire a valet,” Baxter explained, his tone gently reprimanding, as he assisted Daniel with his coat. “I am sure we could find someone to assist you.”
“In the past I’ve had no need for one, especially since I haven’t ever worn a cravat. No need of having anyone fuss over me. But, as master of Goodwin, I do foresee the necessity.” Daniel flicked a speck of dust off his coat sleeve. “And Susannah will need a lady’s maid. After I consult with her about the tenants today, I shall ask her if she wishes to hire someone from the village or from among our tenants.”
“Very good, sir. Will there be anything else?” Baxter stepped back, his hands folded behind him.
“You’ve made sure the carriage was sent round to pick up the Siddonses.” He couldn’t very well have his future bride traipsing about over the frozen moor.
“Yes, indeed. The carriage left about twenty minutes ago. Anything else?”
“Just make certain that my study is set up in a comfortable manner for our meeting with Donaldson. Make sure there’s a roaring fire in the grate, for as you know, that part of the house gets awfully chilly. And bring refreshments in about a quarter of an hour after we’ve started.” He glanced over his shoulder at his butler. “And thank you for coming to assist me in the middle of the day like this. I know how busy you must be, and I will make sure that we make the arrangements to hire a valet who can take up some of these duties.”
