by Amelia Grey
“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 more firmly 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 by 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.
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 neckcloth 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.”
Race smiled so genuinely at her that her heart melted into a watery pool.
“You are an impossible man at times. Everything you said was true and more. You are a horrible man.”
“I agree. But for the moment, back to Lord Martin. If you can manage him, why did he grab your arm and not let go when you tried to walk away from him?”
Susannah shook her head and kept walking but didn’t look over at Race. “He is a harmless oaf. I do not want to discuss Lord Martin or anyone else with you. You are much more a threat to me than he has been, is,
or ever will be.” She stopped at the edge of the dance floor. “Furthermore, I do not want to dance with you.”
He stared down at her with such an engaging smile, Susannah wanted to let all her hurt from his accusations wash out of her, but she couldn’t. She was still too raw from his thinking her capable of stealing from him. That had cut her too deeply.
“You owe me a dance,” he said, his voice hushed.
For some reason the words excited her as much as his note had, but she had to deny those wonderful feelings.
She jerked her head toward him. “I beg your pardon. I don’t owe you anything. You accused me of theft.”
His gaze fluttered down her face to her lips. “I might have acted hastily.”
She gasped. “You might have?”
“No, you’re right, I did. I’m not a perfect man, Susannah.” He looked into her eyes and softly said, “We never had our dance.”
His heated body on hers as they moved together as one flashed through her mind. She gave him a quizzical look. “Didn’t we?”
His passionate gaze held on hers, and she saw in his expression that no matter what he might have thought her capable of, he wanted her.
“You’re right,” he said, “we did, but not on the dance floor.”
The music started. He reached down and picked up her hand. “You do know how to waltz, don’t you?”
“Of course,” she said as he led her to the center of the floor.
They took their positions, and she gave him a stiff frame. She felt strength and warmth in his touch. On the correct note she stepped back, and the marquis stepped forward. At first she felt rigid in his arms, like she didn’t belong, but within seconds she was floating along effortlessly with him.
“I believe I told you yesterday morning that I never wanted to see you again, and now you have accosted me for the second time since then.”
“No, you told me never to come to your house again, that I wasn’t welcome there.”
“Most gentlemen would recognize that means a lady doesn’t want to see the man anywhere, anytime, any place, and she certainly doesn’t want to dance with him in front of a hundred people.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
“Pray God there won’t be a next time,” she mumbled as she allowed him to glide her across the floor, never once bumping into any of the other couples crowding the small space.
“You might be interested to know that I received a letter from my solicitor today,” Race said.
“Why should that interest me?”
“He wants to discuss with me some documents that a Mr. Rexford has made him aware of and he would like for us to meet concerning that.”
Susannah’s eyes brightened for a moment, but then she looked away from him and focused on one of the other dancers. “It hardly matters anymore, does it, my lord? You no longer have the pearls.”
“Susannah, look at me.”
She hesitated for a moment but relented and returned her gaze to his. Sincerity was etched in every feature of his face. “I will get them back. And when I do, I will look at your documents.”
Hope soared within her, but she said nothing and looked away again.
“Why were you talking to that man?” Race asked.
“Lord Martin just wanted to know why I was in Town,” she fibbed, not wanting Race to know her former beau expected her to pick up with him where they had left off.
“Not Lord Martin. Mr. Harold Winston. Why were you talking to him?”
“I will talk to anyone who I think might have the pearls.”
“All right. Why did you ask Gibby’s help concerning these men?”
“I don’t owe you an explanation for anything I do. I will talk to anyone who I think can help me accomplish my goal.”
His eyes turned stormy and his hands tightened on her. “It’s my fault the pearls were stolen, Susannah, and it is my responsibility to find them. I don’t know what meanness these men might be capable of. You must stay out of this and allow me to handle this.”
“I think you have forgotten that I want the pearls as badly as you do. Perhaps more so.”
“I haven’t forgotten anything about you. We were lovers, Susannah.”
She glanced around them to see if any of the other couples on the dance floor might have been close enough to hear what he said. Thankfully no one was, so she whispered, “Don’t remind me.”
“I don’t have to,” he offered. “You’ve been thinking about it all evening, as have I. What you do, whom you see, is important to me. I will not let you play games with these dangerous men.”
“You will not let me?” she answered, swift and sharp. “First, you have no proof these men are dangerous. Second, how dare you think you can keep me from doing anything I want to do?”
“When you challenge me like that, Susannah, it only makes me eager to prove you wrong.”
“I am not challenging you. I’m simply telling the truth.”
Susannah realized the music had stopped and the dancers were leaving; a couple of curious people looked at them.
“Race, we can stop dancing now. The music has finished.”
His gaze darted around. He stopped and let go of her but hung back from the other dancers as they left the floor. “What did you find out from talking to Winston?”
“Why would I tell you anything?”
“I have a runner from Bow Street working on finding the pearls, Susannah. He is a professional and knows how to do certain things. There is no need for you to become involved in this intrigue.”
Susannah tensed. “You may hire whomever you wish and do whatever you wish, but do not try to tell me what I can and cannot do.”
He hesitated before answering, “Susannah, I think you want to drive me to madness, and much as it pains me to admit it to you, you are succeeding.”
She felt her eyes grow misty, and that angered her. She did not want this man to reduce her to tears. “I don’t care enough about you to drive you mad. I want only to find the pearls and return them to my mother.”
She saw by the quick blink of his lashes that her words stung him, but he recovered quickly. “You don’t care about me? That’s another challenge, Susannah, that begs me to prove you wrong.”
“No. I want you to leave me alone.” The words were almost a plea.
“I have not been able to get thoughts of you out of my mind. I can’t get the taste of you off my lips, I can’t…”
“Stop,” she whispered.
“I know you have been thinking about me, as well.”
“You flatter yourself, Race.” Their eyes locked together. “You thought I had the necklace.”
Sorrow filled his eyes. “I was wrong about that.”
He looked at her as if his gaze was absorbing her, but she couldn’t trust him again. “It’s too late to apologize.”
His gaze swept down her face. “All right. I deserve that. But, Susannah, you must not do anything impulsive in your search.”
“Impulsive?” she whispered earnestly. “What is impulsive, Race? Asking you to join me in my bed?”
“No, not that,” he confessed on a broken sigh.
“Then perhaps your storming into my bedroom was impulsive?”
“Very.”
She stepped closer to him, her gaze piercing his. “Let me make this clear to you, Race. My mother is sick. She wants the pearls returned to her. I was naïve, a fool to think I could get them from you legally. I should have known that with men like you, Mr. Winston, and Captain Spyglass, there would be no possibility of that, but I didn’t know. Hear me well on this. I will beg, borrow, or steal the pearls to get them to my mother.”
“Steal them, Susannah?” he challenged.
She paused. Had she said that?
Yes.
Had she
meant it?
Yes.
Susannah took a deep breath. Her throat felt tight and dry, but she felt confident, strong. “The pearls were stolen from my grandmother, stolen from you. If that is the only way I can get possession of them, so be it. Now, stay out of my way, Race, you are hindering my efforts.”
Susannah turned and marched off the dance floor.
Sixteen
My Dearest Grandson Alexander,
Read this and know one of the reasons I was always so fond of Lord Chesterfield. “I will let you into one secret concerning myself. I desired to please, and I neglected none of the means. This, I can assure you, without any false modesty, is the truth. Call it vanity, if you please, and possibly it was so; but my great object was to make every man I met with like me and every woman love me. I often succeeded.”
Your loving Grandmother,
Lady Elder
Susannah had seen Race at every party she had attended for the past week. It wasn’t easy watching him dance, laugh, and converse with so many beautiful young ladies each evening when she wanted to be the only one he had eyes for. They had spoken politely to each other on several occasions, but he had not asked her to dance again, nor had he tried to seek her out for a private conversation. He had obviously taken her at her word when she told him she wanted him to leave her alone. She supposed he was doing exactly what she was doing, trying to figure out who had the pearls so he could get them back.
She still had the notes he had sent her in her jewelry case. Sometimes after staring at his house, she would take the notes out and read them and hold them against her heart before putting them away again. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt close to him when she held them.
After dressing for the day and finishing her chocolate and toast, Susannah hurried below stairs. As she expected, Mrs. Princeton was in the drawing room, sitting at the desk, with papers scattered all around her.
“Good morning, Mrs. Princeton. How are you on this lovely morning? You did notice the bright sunshine, didn’t you?”
