by Lily George
“I am. I am supposed to choose a new lady’s maid to assist me. But—do you really think Daniel needs to know?” She turned away from both of her sisters and crossed her arms over her chest. Telling Daniel the truth meant leaving herself completely vulnerable once more. And though she’d forgiven him, was she ready to be that open with him again?
“I think ’tis essential.” Becky’s soft voice floated over to her. Of course, Becky would say that. She was the romantic one.
“But—what if he doesn’t return the feeling?” She kept her tone brisk and impersonal, but even so, there was a catch to it. She cleared her throat. “I’d look a right fool then.”
“He does return the feeling,” Nan stated in her flat, matter-of-fact tone. “I’ve seen it in his eyes. And in everything he’s done for you. He probably hasn’t told you yet for the same reason you haven’t told him. You’re both scared.”
“I’m not scared,” Susannah began to protest, but then she paused. Of course she was afraid. This entire leap into a new life with Daniel was quite terrifying.
“I’m not saying that you are a coward,” Nan added, her tone a little gentler. “But I think there is a misunderstanding, and fear from both of you. One of you must tell the other. I think it should come from you, Susannah.”
“Why from me? Shouldn’t the man always declare his intentions?” Gracious, this was maddening. Why should the declaration of love be her sole responsibility?
“Because, of the two, you are the most formidable,” Nan teased. “And because you’ll say it. I know you will, Sue.”
Susannah turned back to face her sisters. They were both leaning across the table, their expressions expectant and encouraging.
“You are certain of his regard for me?”
Becky nodded.
Nan piped up, uttering a single word. “Yes.”
Of the two, Susannah expected Becky to champion this marriage, for she liked anything that smacked of romance. And even if a situation weren’t romantic, she might concoct a dreamy scenario out of thin air.
But...Nan? Nan was the matter-of-fact one. The plainspoken one. She would never be dreamy or idealistic about anything.
If Nan saw love in Daniel’s eyes, then it must be true.
“I don’t know if I can actually bring myself to say those words,” Susannah admitted. “Perhaps I could just show him I love him, through my actions. And that way, he would feel no pressure from me to say anything about love, either. Wouldn’t that be best?”
“Sue, I have never known you to be a coward about anything.” Nan faced her squarely, as though issuing a challenge. “Why now?”
“I am not a coward.” Why was this so difficult? She shouldn’t have said anything. Bother her need to be open and direct about everything, and bother her need to have a nice clean finish to her ownership of the shop. Now she had to face things with her sisters that she could hardly face on her own. “This is an entirely different matter. Always, in the past, I have been able to guard my own feelings. I had to give nothing to this shop but my hard work. But now—what you are telling me I must do is give Daniel my heart. And yes, that surrender is quite hard for me to accomplish. You’ll understand it someday, Nan. When you are older.”
“Nan, you’re being too harsh on poor Susannah.” Becky stood and reached her small hand toward Susannah, and she accepted her sister’s hand with gratitude. Becky might be entirely too dreamy and romantic for her own good, but at least she was sympathetic. “This would be hard for anyone to do, much less someone as strong and independent as our sister.”
“Thank you,” Susannah murmured.
“But, Susannah, you have to understand something, as well.” Becky clasped her hand tighter and gave her sister a tremulous smile. “Anything worth having in this world involves some sort of difficulty. Some effort. And a strong marriage to the man you love is worth this effort. Just as it took bravery for you to move us to Tansley and start this hat shop, so, too, must you embark on this phase of your life with courage...and honesty.”
Susannah sighed. Nan’s stubborn persistence and Becky’s gentle persuasion had worn her down. She was licked. And even though the thought of confessing her love to Daniel was absolutely terrifying, ’twas also rather exhilarating. As though she were standing on the highest point on the moor, and all the beautiful, rolling vistas were before her, and nothing but the vast sky above her.
She was ready to climb to the precipice.
* * *
Daniel squinted at his estate manager’s fine handwriting on the ledger before him. Yes, indeed—if he understood what he was reading, then the repairs on the tenants’ roofs were progressing nicely already. ’Twas only a week ago that they implemented the plans for changing Goodwin, whisking away the old way of doing business and replacing it with the methods that Susannah, Donaldson and he together decided would work well.
Susannah might be here herself in a little while. She was beginning her work on organizing a sewing bee for the tenants, and the wool she brought from her little shop had already been gladly received in some quarters. Perhaps when she was here, he would have a few moments of her time. Not to press his suit, but just to bask in the warm glow of her company.
That wasn’t enough, of course, but it was enough for now. In time, she might come to hold him in the same regard as he held her.
A rapping on the study window startled him out of his reverie. Who on earth could that be? In all likelihood ’twas Paul, playing at some sort of joke. No one else would be foolish enough to traipse about on the moor when the weather was this freezing. He stalked over to the window and prepared to give his friend a good tongue-lashing for behaving like an idiot.
But as he tossed back the curtains, ’twas Susannah standing out in the cold. She wore a long velvet cloak and a matching tam-o’-shanter. Her bright auburn hair stood out in bold relief against her rather severe winter garments, and two pink circles—brought on by the winter chill, no doubt—stained her cheeks.
“Susannah? What on earth are you doing out here? You’ll catch your death. Come inside, I’ve a fire going here in the parlor.”
“No,” she cried, her cheeks turning pinker. “I was on my way to visit the tenants for the sewing bee, but I need to tell you something. And I have to tell you out here.” Her breath came out in little puffs of smoke on the frosty air.
“All right. Is it about the house? Did you see something on the exterior wall as you walked past?” He leaned out the window and scanned the blond stone walls of the Hall for anything unusual.
“No. I just...I just need to say something.” She bit her lip and paused.
For a moment, his heart pounded against his rib cage. Why was she behaving so strangely? Why would she not come inside? She hadn’t come to break their engagement, had she? “Proceed, Susannah.” He bowed his head. The blow might come at any moment.
“I realize the utter strangeness and stupidity of what I am about to say, especially when you consider that we are already engaged,” she blurted, speaking so quickly that he had difficulty understanding all that she said. “But I’ve been in conference with my sisters, and we all agree that this must be said.”
He tightened his hand on the window sash. “Yes?”
It was all over. It must be.
“What I have to tell you is that I realize that I have fallen in love with you. Even though we’re engaged to be married, and even though we have been engaged to be married in some form or fashion to each other for many years, I realized the truth of my feelings for you recently.”
Had he heard aright? Daniel raised his eyes slowly from where he had been staring at the tips of her little boots, almost buried in the snow, to her lovely warm eyes, now widened with something like apprehension. She clasped her gloved hands together, almost as though she was pleading with him to understand.
&nb
sp; “Say that again.” He couldn’t help it. He must be dreaming. There was no way that he had heard what he thought he heard. ’Twould be all the fulfillment of his dreams if it were so.
She swallowed and sighed. “I said that I love you. I realize how ridiculous I must sound—”
That was all Daniel needed. With one quick leap, he was out the window, and his boots crunched on the snow as he landed. Susannah took a step back, giving a nervous laugh. “Gracious! ’Tis a good thing that your study is on the first floor, sir.”
“You say that you love me, little Susy? Oh, my darling.” He swept her into his arms, quite off her feet, and spun her around. “You’ve made me the happiest man on earth. I’ve loved you forever. Since we were children together, I suppose.”
“You have? I’ve loved you forever, as well, Daniel. ’Twas just hurt feelings and pride that have kept me a prisoner all these years. I loved you so much that when you left, it hurt more than I could say. But now you’re back, and I can’t dissemble any longer. It would not be fair, not to either of us.”
Daniel’s heart leaped, and he enfolded his future bride in an embrace that left them both breathless. When he allowed his beloved enough room to breathe, she chuckled. “You’re the one who will catch your death out here. We must go inside.”
“I am not cold. I am warm through and through now with the knowledge that the woman I have loved all my life loves me in return,” he teased.
“Your lips are turning blue,” she rejoined. “Come, let us make haste.”
They wandered around to the front porch, her arm tucked in his. As they mounted the steps, Baxter held the door open, his face registering confusion at both Susannah’s flushed cheeks and his master’s lack of appropriate winter clothing. But Baxter was not well-bred for nothing. He simply held the door open and bowed as they passed through.
Good man, that.
“In the past I would have fixed a cognac tincture to warm us both up,” Daniel remarked. “But as it is, I would like you to bring us some tea, Baxter. Boiling hot, if you please.”
Baxter bowed and made his way to the kitchens as Daniel led Susannah to his study. Once inside, he helped her remove her cloak and tam. Then he drew her down beside him on the settee.
“Why did you look so terrified when you came to tell me?” He must know. She’d seemed so much on the verge of saying goodbye, and yet she had told him everything he’d dreamed of hearing. Everything that he had planned to wait for, the rest of his life.
“I’m embarrassed to say,” she admitted, hiding her face on his shoulder. He placed his arm around her. He half expected her to push him away. She had always done so in the past, leaping away from him as though his touch burned her. This quiet acceptance, and even encouragement, of his touch was wonderful, but it might take a fellow a few days to get used to it.
“Tell me, anyway,” he murmured, bending his head close to her ear and tightening his hold around her waist.
“Well, I was afraid. I’m not blaming you for the decisions you made as a boy, Daniel. Nor do I still harbor a grudge in my heart for all your years at sea. But the truth is, I am an independent person—”
“Quite independent,” he teased.
“Yes, quite.” She nestled closer to him. “And ’tis difficult for me to surrender all of my past airs, my stubborn belief in how right I am—all that sort of thing. And it’s hard for me to give up my shop so completely. It’s my own creation, and my own livelihood, and I am giving it all up for—”
“For me.” He paused a moment. Yes, he could well understand how very difficult that might be, especially when he had betrayed her trust so callously in his youth.
“But all this I would do for you. After all, you have given up drinking. And if you are brave enough to do that for me, then I would be brave enough to give up my shop.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. Never had he realized the enormity of what they were embarking upon until Susannah, in her simple and direct fashion, stated matters so. He had relied upon liquor to take him away from the cares of this world while she had created her shop to help her endure the hardships of the world. And out of love, they were relinquishing their hold on both of those things.
“So...I suppose you could say that though we are both scared, we can be brave together.” He kissed the top of her head, breathing deeply of her scent of orange blossom. “Does that sound like an adventure to you, Susy?”
“You’re scared, too?” She pulled away from him and fixed him with a keen, searching look.
“Yes, of course, my darling.” It was so much easier to say the words aloud than to carry them in his heart. “Afraid that I shall fail you, again. Afraid to give up liquor forever. Afraid that in asking you to help me with all the myriad duties and responsibilities of Goodwin, I am asking more of you than I should. But there is no one I would rather start this grand exploration with than you, Susy.”
Susannah cast him a gentle smile, one that curled the corners of her rosy lips. “Then we shall be brave together in this new adventure, Daniel. There is no one I would rather set sail with than you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Only one matter still preyed upon Daniel’s mind. He’d admitted the truth to Susannah a week before, when she’d confessed her love to him as she’d stood shivering in the snow. But there was a feeling that still pervaded his entire being. A feeling that somehow, in some fashion, he was not coming to Susannah as a whole man. Yes, he was determined to conquer his drinking. And his emptiness was filling as he quietly accepted his newfound faith. But was it enough?
He paced the floor of his bedroom. His wedding was a week away. But he could not, in good conscience, bring Susannah nothing more than the husk of a man. He had to be real, vital—a flesh-and-blood presence in their marriage. When drinking, he had embraced the void. But now he must be certain that the void was entirely filled.
He dressed himself quickly, warming up by the fire. In a week or so he would bring on a valet, as tradition dictated, and yet he had sidestepped tradition by promoting one of the footmen to the position. Baxter spoke well of the young man and indicated that he would be willing to train him in the formalities his position would entail.
And Susannah had promoted one of the female tenants, a shy young lass with slightly crossed eyes, after seeing how well she did with the sewing bee. This new gel was nimble with a needle and had a dignified manner that would suit Susannah well.
So once again, while they had deferred to tradition on the surface, the two of them had sought their own path.
No need for a cravat. If he went outdoors, he’d simply bundle up in a long coat.
But even as he attended to the routine of dressing for the day, the gnawing feeling of panic would not abate. He must do something; try harder to become a better man for his bride.
He couldn’t talk to Paul about this. Paul embraced the emptiness of a dissolute life, as well. His friend would guffaw, offer him a drink and then tease him for turning the liquor away. And he couldn’t talk to Susannah about it. He’d confided in her once before. But while she understood—to some extent—his fears, he didn’t want to alarm her. No need to make her feel more nervous about their impending nuptials.
And, of course, he had no father still living, nor a brother. And if they were alive, ’twas unlikely they would offer sympathetic counsel. Neither one was compassionate to the failings of the human race.
To whom could he turn? For he must speak to someone. He couldn’t continue as matters stood.
There were people in this world that had to listen to you, no matter how lax your history had been. Their profession demanded it of them, for it was their primary purpose. And they guided lost souls and wayward sheep who strayed from the flock.
The round, kindly face of Reverend Kirk drifted into Daniel’s mind.
Of cour
se. He could go to Crich and discuss the matter with the reverend. He was to marry them in a week’s time, anyway. Under the pretense of seeing to the details of the wedding, he could speak with their gentle country pastor for just a moment.
He couldn’t ride out today, for the wind was howling and the occasional dusting of snowflakes whooshed by his window. Yet, as he drew back the curtain and rubbed his sleeve across the pane to clear it of frost, he saw that the roads were clear. He would order the carriage, drive out to Crich and return in time for his dinner.
Funny, even though Baxter had always seen to the efficient running of Goodwin, ’twas quite amazing how much more punctual everything had become once Daniel took an active interest in the household. For from the moment he pulled the bell and ordered his carriage, till the moment he rolled out across the moor, was less than ten minutes. And he even had the luxury of a warmed brick at his feet and a fur lap robe. Even the cook had packed a variety of eatables for him to partake of on this brief journey.
He was well taken care of now that he’d seen to the welfare of others.
That thought did lessen the feeling of inadequacy that plagued his very soul.
He shut off his mind as they rolled out over the moors. The last time he journeyed to Crich he had spent most of his trip occupied with intense soul-searching. Now, however, he would spend the time merely looking out over the frozen hills. The moment for introspection would come when he had someone to guide him, to listen and to offer wise counsel.
Why, was that the spire up ahead? Daniel withdrew his pocket watch. Astounding. They had traveled for the better part of an hour and it seemed as though only a few moments had gone by.
The carriage wound its way into the clearing between two hills and slowly rumbled into the churchyard. The coachman drew to a stop beside the rectory. Yes, since it was Saturday, it was quite likely that Reverend Kirk was in his home, preparing for the morrow’s service. He would try here first rather than the chapel.
