The Heiress (18 page)

And maybe blood loss. Daniel added the grim thought as he felt trails of warm liquid tickling their way down his side. It was damned good he was so close to home, or he might not have made it, he thought grimly, but wondered when the lightheadedness hit him a moment later if he would after all.

Chapter Eleven

S
hould we not wait for Daniel?” Suzette asked, as her father urged her to a table to join the others breaking their fast. Her gaze slid to the door, but she managed to resist rushing over to see if Daniel was riding into the courtyard. She had done so several times during the last half hour since the two hours she’d expected him to take had passed. Scowling as she allowed her father to urge her onto the bench next to Lisa, she muttered, “What is taking him so long?”

“Lady Woodrow would wish to pack a bag of clothes,” Richard pointed out with unconcern, as he settled across from her next to Christiana.

“Oh, yes of course.” She didn’t tell him that Daniel had thought he’d be back within two hours even with the need to pack.

Breakfast was a cheerful affair with much chattering and laughter from the group, but Suzette found it difficult to pay attention as she kept glancing toward the door, impatient for Daniel’s return. She was relieved when it was over and immediately hurried to the door, intending to go out and check the stables, but the innkeeper was returning from a trip to the stables himself when she opened the door and smiled at her sympathetically as he shook his head.

“No sign of him yet, miss. I’m sure he’ll be along soon.”

“Yes,” Suzette murmured, and then managed a smile and added, “Thank you,” as she stepped back for him to enter. She then turned to cross to the stairs, thinking she would go up and check once again to be sure she had packed everything and had not left a stocking lying under the bed or something. Suzette had already done so once, but a second look would not hurt. Besides, she had to do something. This waiting was driving her mad.

Rolling her eyes at her own lack of patience, she mounted the stairs and walked quickly to the room she and Lisa were sharing. She thrust the door open and started to enter, but paused as she spotted a letter on the floor just inside. Frowning, she bent to pick it up, eyebrows rising when she saw her name on the front in a neat scrawl.

Pushing the door closed, Suzette opened the letter and started to cross to the bed, but paused as she read the contents.

Dear Suzette,

I apologize for the inconvenience of my timing. However, I simply cannot marry you. Your behavior in the stables this morning was, frankly, nothing like what one would expect from a lady of the gentry. It was a base and sordid little incident. You behaved no better than a milkmaid by lifting your skirts for me there amongst the dung and stink of the stables. I find this has raised concerns in me regarding your ability to remain faithful as a wife. I worry that such violent passions combined with your unruly nature and apparent complete lack of control would leave me forever worrying over what lewd behavior you might be getting up to with any man who entered your sphere of influence. I would look at any issue we had and wonder if they truly were my prodigy or that of the footman’s, or the stable lads, or any visiting male guests. I do not wish to live that way, so again, I apologize. However I will not be returning to the inn to continue the journey to Gretna Green. I wish you the best of luck for the future, but I shall not be a part of it.

Yours truly,

Daniel

Suzette was reading the letter for the second time when the door opened behind her. She barely heard Christiana’s words as her sister said, “Oh, here you are, Suzette. Lisa and I thought to pass the time with a nice walk. The innkeeper has assured us that there is a lovely path leading to a water—Suzette?”

Christiana had reached her side and Suzette turned stunned and wounded eyes to her sister. Her voice was a bare whisper as she got out, “Daniel is not returning.”

“What?” Christiana frowned and then glanced to the letter in her now trembling hands and tried to take it, but Suzette pressed it to her chest and moved away, too ashamed to let her read it.

“He doesn’t want to marry me,” she gasped, finding it suddenly hard to breathe. Her breath was coming in fast, hard pants, but little air seemed to be reaching her tortured lungs, and she wheezed, “My chest hurts.”

“Here, sit down.” Christiana was at her side at once, urging her to sit. Once Suzette had dropped to the bed, she rushed to the window to open the shutters and let in the breeze. Turning back, she ordered, “Breathe. Deep breaths.”

Suzette sucked in air, trying to slow her breathing. After a moment it seemed to work, and her breathing became more regular.

“Let me see the letter, Suzette,” her sister said quietly once she was almost back to normal.

“No,” she said in a low voice, her hands pressing the paper even tighter to her chest.

“Well then, tell me what it says. I am sure you are just misunderstanding,” Christiana said gently.

“Dear Suzette, I apologize for the inconvenience of my timing. However, I simply cannot marry you,” she recited dully from memory. Even with only the two reads the words were burned into her brain.

“I suppose there is no misunderstanding that,” Christiana said grimly. “Did he say why?”

“I am unruly, my passions too violent, with no self-control, and he fears my ability to be faithful after marriage,” Suzette admitted and then burst into tears.

“Oh Suzie,” Christiana murmured, hugging her close. She was simply holding and rocking her and allowing her to weep when a knock sounded at the door.

“Who is it?” Christiana asked, sounding displeased.

“Your husband,” came Richard’s answer in slightly amused tones.

Christiana hesitated and then snapped, “Come in.”

Suzette immediately tried to stop crying and pulled away from her sister to mop at her face as the door opened.

“I just came to see—what’s wrong?” Richard had merely poked his head in, but seeing his wife’s angry face and Suzette’s wet one, stepped into the room and pushed the door closed. He crossed the room asking with concern, “What has happened?”

“Daniel is not returning,” Christiana announced, standing to move to his side. “He has decided he doesn’t wish to marry Suzette, that she is too unruly, her passions violent and her self-control nonexistent.”

Silence reigned briefly and Suzette glanced around to see Richard frowning thoughtfully while Christiana glared, awaiting a response. After another moment, her sister’s expression became concerned. “Richard? Why are you not surprised? Surely this is a mistake or—?”

“I don’t know,” Richard admitted, and then hesitated before saying, “I know Daniel wasn’t sure he wanted to marry her at first. But he knew if he said as much she wouldn’t spend time with him, so he didn’t tell her so that he could get to know her and decide.” He frowned. “I was sure he’d decided to marry her though, so—”

“You mean he was lying?” Christiana asked with dismay. “He led Suzette to think he had honorable intentions, but he—”

“He didn’t exactly lie,” Richard said lamely, and then sighed. “When Suzette caught him in her room that first night she assumed that Daniel was there to tell her yes, and he just didn’t correct her.”

“What is the difference between that and lying, exactly?” Christiana asked sharply. “He allowed her to come to the wrong conclusions and didn’t correct her.”

Suzette frowned and asked, “If he wasn’t there to tell me yes, what was he doing there?”

“We were there to get George’s body,” Richard answered quietly. “We had just collected George when you girls arrived home. We hid in your room not realizing it was occupied, and then I left him hiding in there with George while I took you and Lisa down to the office. I was trying to keep you busy long enough for him to get out with George, but then you were going to drink the whiskey, and I thought it was how George was poisoned and knocked it out of your hand and you stormed off.”

“Oh.” Suzette recalled how upset she’d been, thinking he was just trying to stop her drinking his whiskey that night. Richard had been trying to prevent her drinking what he thought was poisoned whiskey. She shook her head. That wasn’t important now. Mouth tightening, she said, “Daniel was alone in my room when I entered. George wasn’t with him.”

“He’d thrown George out the window and was trying to follow when you entered,” he explained, looking uncomfortable.

Suzette closed her eyes and turned her head away. “So he never wanted to marry me at all.”

“That’s not—I don’t know,” Richard said wearily. “You fascinated him, and he liked you and wanted to get to know you better.”

“Well, he certainly did that,” Christiana snapped. “I know he’s been kissing her and more.”

Suzette grimaced and asked, “But what about the dower? I thought he wanted the dower. Why give that up when he so desperately needed it?” The question had barely left her lips when she felt herself flush with shame. The answer was in the letter. Apparently even the chance to gain the dower and save his people was not enough to lure him to marry someone as base and lewd as she. Shaking her head she moaned, “My God, he is disgusted by me so much that he would rather give up the dower he so desperately needs than marry me.”

“He doesn’t need it,” Richard admitted, and added apologetically, “That
was
a lie.”

“And you
knew
?” Christiana asked with dismay.

“Of course he needs the dower,” Suzette protested, recalling the stories Daniel had told her of his childhood. Surely those couldn’t be lies too? Could they? Dear God, she’d believed every word. Mouth tight, she said, “He told me that his mother had sold all their furniture to survive, and even her jewelry and her wedding ring. He said they had no servants, and—”

“That is all true,” Richard assured her, appearing relieved to be able to say so. “And when he came of age his mother
was
pushing him to marry for money. She had worked hard to try to hide their dire straits, convincing society she was just a horrible snob rather than admit she was poor. And everyone believed it. After all, her family is extremely wealthy. But her family turned their backs on her when she married Daniel’s father, and she and Daniel were destitute after he died.”

Suzette was relieved to hear him verify the story Daniel had told her, but frowned and pointed out, “But you just said he doesn’t need my dower.”

“He doesn’t.” Richard ran a hand wearily through his hair. “Daniel blurted the whole tale to me one night, about how poor they were and what his mother had sacrificed and that she now wanted him to marry a girl with money, and quickly.” He shrugged. “Of course, I had suspected as much. We were best friends and I had seen hints here and there. I had just been waiting for him to come to me, and when he told me all that, I helped him with investments and—” Richard grimaced and then admitted, “He has almost as much money as I do now. He is rich. He does not need your dower.”

“So he never really wanted or needed me,” Suzette said miserably.

“He was just trifling with her,” Christiana sounded furious, and moved to the bed. Dropping to sit on the side of it, she hugged Suzette tightly.

“I don’t believe that,” Richard said grimly. “Daniel is an honorable man. I wouldn’t be friends with him if I thought otherwise. There must be some explanation.”

“What?” Christiana asked grimly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted with frustration, and then held out his hand. “Let me see the letter.”

“No!” Suzette crumpled it in her hand and held it close to her chest. There was no way she was going to let him read about what she’d done in the stables. It had seemed the most beautiful experience in the world at the time, but now seemed cheap and dirty somehow. She’d thrown up her skirts as lightly as a milkmaid and Daniel now loathed her for it. She was ashamed and didn’t want everyone to know about her shame.

Richard and Christiana were silent for a moment, and then Richard asked to speak with his wife alone. When Christiana stood and moved to the door with him, the two began to whisper, but Suzette merely curled up in a fetal position on the bed and hugged the letter to her chest. She should burn it, or tear it up, but she just didn’t have the energy.

Suzette heard the chamber door open and close and lay staring at the wall. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been lying like that, empty and numb, when the door opened and closed again. She didn’t open her eyes, but simply listened to the soft pad of slippered feet on the hard boards. Someone settled on the side of the bed and began to rub her back soothingly. She didn’t know it was Christiana until she whispered, “All will be well, Suzie. Richard and Robert are going to go after Daniel and see what’s what.”

Suzette stiffened. Richard and Robert would find out that Daniel had a disgust of her because of her loose behavior. All would know her shame. The thought made her turn sharply to Christiana. “You have to stop them.”

Christiana raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because,” she hissed, sitting up. “You just have to. I don’t want them talking to him.”

“Why?” Christiana repeated insistently.

Suzette cursed impatiently and scrambled off the bed to go after Richard herself. She ran downstairs as quickly as she could and then burst out of the inn in time to see Robert and Richard riding out. Her shoulders sagged miserably. By the time she got to the stables and saddled up a horse to follow, they would be long gone and Suzette had no idea where Woodrow was or how to get there so would never catch up to them.

“Suzette, isn’t it?”

She glanced around with disinterest, vaguely recognizing the man who paused beside her, but merely shook her head and turned to go back into the inn. Suzette heard him enter behind her and try to hail her again, but she simply ignored him and trudged back upstairs to her room.

When she slipped inside, Christiana was still there, seated on the side of the bed, reading a wrinkled piece of paper. For one moment, Suzette had no idea what it was, but then she recalled the crumpled letter and realized she’d left it behind. Closing the door, she leaned back against it wearily and waited.

Christiana lifted her head, her eyes filled with sorrow as she whispered, “Oh Suzie.”

Suzette bowed her head, unable to meet her gaze as shame slid over her.