She turned her attention back to Mr. Sinders. He was telling her about bonds and property, jewels and shares.
"Mr. Harstairs invested wisely," Mr. Sinders said. "He spread his interests, and saw a healthy return on almost everything he bought."
She forced herself to concentrate until Mr. Sinders had finished.
"Thank you for everything you have done for me," said Susannah.
"It is my job," he remarked.
"Even so, you have been at pains to explain everything to me, and I am grateful for it."
"If you have any further questions about your inheritance, I hope you will not hesitate to ask," he said.
"I will be sure to."
She stood up, and he showed her out of his office. She collected Constance from the ante-room and the two ladies took their leave.
"It has been a pleasure to see you again," said Mr. Sinders, as he escorted the two ladies to the coach and handed them in personally.
Once it had rolled away, he went back to his office in a thoughtful mood. Mr. Harstairs had had such high hopes, but it seemed they had come to nothing. Miss Thorpe had made no mention of Mr. Bristow; indeed, she had seemed anxious to get away from him, and Mr. Sinders was not surprised. As a lawyer, he valued bonds and shares and property. Such things were tangible and easily understood.
More volatile matters were best ignored, he felt. But Mr. Harstairs had been adamant.
"I want to give her more than money," he had said, whilst sitting in Mr. Sinders's office not two months before. "I've had property, and look where it's got me."
"To a very comfortable position, if I may say so," Mr. Sinders had remarked.
"A man's not comfortable without a woman," Mr. Harstairs had said, shaking his head. "I should have taken me a bride. There was a woman, once-well, you know. It was Susannah's Great Aunt Caroline. She had a face like an angel, but I was a stupid young thing in those days and I let her go. It was all over something or nothing. She saw me with another woman, and when she asked me about it, instead of telling her it was my old neighbour, I told her she ought to trust me, then got on my high horse and rode it out of the country."
"Doing very well for yourself in the process," Mr. Sinders had reminded him. "Your ventures were singularly successful, and brought you a comfortable, indeed a wealthy, life."
"Oh, yes, 'til the revolutionaries got hold of me and damned near killed me, just because I said I didn't give a fig for their revolution. If not for Oliver Bristow showing up and rescuing me, I'd have been long gone. Once I got back home, I gave him money and a lease on Harstairs House, so he could carry on with his rescuing. But there's something wrong with that boy. It's eating him up, and if it ain't sorted out soon, it'll be too late. So I'm going to throw 'em at each other, and see what happens."
Mr. Sinders had pointed out that Miss Thorpe might have a former attachment.
"In that case, I'll say she can marry in a month and inherit everything. If there's anyone she's a fancy for, she'll marry him straight away."
"And Mr. Bristow, being of an adventurous disposition, might not suit a quiet governess."
"Quiet? Mebbe. But if she's anything like Caroline she'll be full of pluck. Tell her the house is haunted. If she can take on ghosts, she can take on Bristow. But don't tell her she'll find him there. I don't want her deciding not to go. And if they get married, Sinders, give 'em this. It's a letter, wishing 'em well."
"It's most irregular…"
"Good! Because regular I ain't. Nor is Bristow. Nor, I'll wager, is Miss Thorpe. Look to it, Sinders. My health ain't what it should be. I ain't going to be here much longer, and I want to do what I can for 'em."
It had all come to nothing, of course, thought Mr. Sinders drily. Affairs of the heart always did. It was far better to put faith in solid things like property.
He poured himself a glass of Madeira, and consoled himself with the thought that although Mr. Harstairs might have been singularly unsuccessful at providing Susannah with a husband, he had been successful in providing her with more tangible assets.
Yes, he thought, as he sipped his Madeira, it was money and property that counted in the end.
Susannah's thoughts were of a completely different nature. As the coach pulled away from Mr. Sinders's office and embarked on the last part of its journey she looked out of the window, but she did not see the London streets in the gathering gloom. Instead, she saw Harstairs House, and flashes of all the things that had happened there: her meeting with Oliver, their encounter in the attic, their kiss on the cliffs, their boat ride… As she realized what she was doing, she upbraided herself and told herself she should not be thinking of him. She tried hard to think of other things, and had almost succeeded in putting him out of her mind when Constance unwittingly destroyed her hard work by mentioning him.
"Are you going to tell Mrs. Wise about your engagement straight away, or are you going to wait until she has met Mr. Bristow?" Constance asked.
Susannah did not want to talk about it, but she knew it could no longer be avoided. She would have to tell Con-stance sooner or later, and it would be better if she revealed the truth before they reached Mrs. Wise's house.
"There is no engagement," she said, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone and trying not to let her feelings show. "I am afraid I was deceived in Mr. Bristow. He overheard me telling you I wouldn't marry the tenant if my life depended on it. It was on our first evening here. We were in the sitting-room, and had just discovered the house was occupied, if you remember. You thought Mr. Harstairs might have arranged it deliberately, so that Mr. Bristow and I could meet and fall in love, and I said that I would never marry him."
"Yes, I remember," said Constance, perplexed.
"It challenged him, so he set out to make me fall in love with him."
"I can't believe it," said Constance, taken aback. "He always seemed such an honourable gentleman. Are you sure, Susannah? Could there not have been some mistake?"
"No. There is no mistake. I heard it with my own ears. James was berating him for it as I went down into the kitchen. I had gone to take my leave of him. Oliver was telling James that he had asked me to marry him, and James told him things had gone too far. All this time, I thought he had feelings for me," she said, unable to keep a tremor out of her voice. "But he was only interested in revenge."
"My poor, dear Susannah," said Constance.
She took Susannah's hands between her own and held them comfortingly.
"I would rather you said nothing of this to Mrs. Wise," said Susannah, recovering herself. "I did not mention Mr. Bristow to her, and she has no need to know anything about him."
"Of course not, if you would rather I didn't," Constance assured her.
The coach turned a corner and then began to slow. It finally rolled to a halt. Susannah looked out of the window. She had never visited Mrs. Wise before, and did not know what kind of residence to expect.
The house in front of them was smart, but not too large. It was well kept, with shiny black railings and sparkling sash windows. Lighted flambeaux were set at the bottom of the steps to ward off the coming darkness. The coachman opened the door and let down the step. Susannah climbed out, followed by Constance. The coachman lifted the ladies' scant luggage out of the coach, and then went up the steps and knocked on the door. It was opened almost immediately by an imposing butler who bowed the two ladies inside before leading them upstairs to the drawing-room.
As the drawing-room door opened, Susannah caught sight of duck-egg blue walls, an Aubusson carpet in shades of blue and red, a quantity of gilded furniture and an abundance of mirrors, which reflected the candlelight and made the room almost as bright as day. And rising from an elegant sofa was a round, cheerful woman with grey hair and twinkling eyes, dressed in an open gown of amber satin. A froth of lace spilled from each of her three-quarter-length sleeves. Rings covered her fingers, and a cap was set on her powdered head.
"Susannah, I'm glad to see you, my dear," she said, takin
g Susannah by the hands and beaming at her. "You look a little pale. But we will soon put some colour in your cheeks."
She cast a critical eye over Constance before seeming satisfied and welcoming her warmly.
"How was your journey?" she said to Susannah, as she helped her to remove her cloak.
"Very pleasant," said Susannah mechanically.
Mrs. Wise's eyes twinkled.
"By which you mean the roads were abominable, the coach was intolerable and the length interminable! I know, my dear, I have journeyed into the West Country on occasion, and I am sure you must be black and blue. The potholes in those roads! But I mean to make sure you enjoy your stay. I have all sorts of entertainments planned. We will need to be quiet at first, of course, whilst you have some new clothes made, but it should not take too long. The modiste's do not have too much work in December."
Susannah made herself smile. She would enjoy her time in London, she told herself, with all its distractions of museums and shops, parks and assemblies. She would go to every party, laugh at every pleasantry and accept every compliment, until she had driven Oliver from her mind.
"What a stroke of luck, inheriting a fortune," Mrs. Wise went on. "Your aunt would have been so pleased. She always wanted a good marriage for you, but she thought of nothing better than a rector or a squire. You can aim much higher now. We will have you settled before the end of the summer, I am sure of it, and to a man with a title, as well as ten thousand a year. Our first visit will be to the modiste's tomorrow, and then to the friseur's," she said, studying Susannah critically, as the ladies sat down. "We will have a lot to do if you are to be ready to go to Lady Eldermere's ball on Friday week. It promises to be a splendid occasion, and her son will be there. He is a very eligible gentleman, and is handsome besides. And if he doesn't suit, there are plenty more to choose from. Oh, Susannah, I am so looking forward to this. What fun we are going to have!"
Susannah tried to enter into Mrs. Wise's enjoyment over the next few days as she visited modistes, friseurs and milliners, but at night, her dreams went their own way. She was on the cliffs, kissing Oliver, or in the kitchen, melting as he bathed her feet. And then would come her awakening, and her urge to sleep again, so that she could lose herself in her dreams.
Could it have been a mistake? she asked herself. But no, how could it? James would not have said such a thing if it had not been true. So she expressed herself delighted with her new gowns, and charmed with her new hats. She exclaimed over her fashionable hairstyle, and enthused over the glossy ringlets that spilled from a high chignon, cascading over her shoulder and down her back. She visited Mr. Sinders on two further occasions, to take his advice on her inheritance, and appointed Constance as her housekeeper at a generous salary. And she expressed herself enchanted with the idea of Lady Eldermere's ball.
The day before the ball, however, there came an event which required all of her fortitude, for whilst she was sitting in the drawing-room with Mrs. Wise, the butler brought in a card.
Mrs. Wise took it and said in surprise, "Mr. Oliver Bristow."
Susannah almost jumped, and hastily buried her face in a book so that her agitation should not be noticed.
"That's strange," said Mrs. Wise, puzzled. "I don't believe I know a Mr. Bristow. Unless… unless," she said, with more animation, "he is one of the Northumberland Bristows. Yes, I do believe he is. I remember now." She turned to the butler. "Ask Mr. Bristow to join us."
"No!" said Susannah, jumping up.
Mrs. Wise looked at her in astonishment.
Susannah sat down again hurriedly, angry with herself for having betrayed so much feeling, but she could not face Oliver, especially not here, in Mrs. Wise's drawing-room.
"That is, I am feeling a little unwell," said Susannah. "I am very sorry," she said to Mrs. Wise, "but I don't feel I am equal to receiving visitors."
"My dear, you should have said," remarked Mrs. Wise serenely. She turned to the butler. "Inform Mr. Bristow that I am not at home."
"Very good, ma'am," he said with a bow, and withdrew.
"I'm so sorry," said Susannah. "I didn't mean to spoil your day, but my head… I think I should go to my room."
"By all means," said Mrs. Wise kindly, "… but not until you have told me what is troubling you."
Susannah's heart began to beat faster.
"I can't think what you mean," she prevaricated.
"I don't know what has happened to you, Susannah, but you have not been yourself since you arrived," said Mrs. Wise. "I have watched you trying to appear interested in your new gowns, but it has been an effort for you, and don't tell me that you have lost your interest in fashion, because I don't believe it. When I used to visit Caroline, you pored over the fashion plates I brought with me. I have said nothing so far because I did not want to distress you, but it can't go on. It has something to do with Mr. Bristow, has it not?"
Susannah made no reply.
"My dear, I have never met Mr. Bristow in my life, and now he comes calling on me. The only attraction of my house can be that you are here. Will you not tell me what is wrong?"
Susannah shook her head, but a few minutes were enough to show her that she owed Mrs. Wise an explanation.
"I knew Mr. Bristow in Cornwall…" she began, and as she started to speak she felt a sense of relief that at last it was out in the open.
"This is very bad," said Mrs. Wise, shaking her head when Susannah had finished. "Very bad indeed. I would not have believed it possible of him. He comes from a very respectable family, and he was properly raised. Now I think of it, I remember his grandparents, too. They were a charming couple. I'm convinced their grandson would never behave in such a way."
"Things happened to him," Susannah said haltingly. "He had some dreadful experiences in France. I believe they changed him."
"You think they made him cruel?"
"I…" Susannah shook her head. "I don't know."
"I cannot believe it. If it had just been a question of him making love to you in Cornwall, then perhaps, if he was wholly lost to decency, he might have done so, but here it is a different matter. We are in London now. It is the heart of the civilized world. His behaviour will not go unnoticed. He cannot visit you at my house and expect the world to look the other way if he deceives you. It will affect his reputation."
"I don't believe he cares for his reputation," said Susannah with a sigh. "He will probably not be in London for very long."
Mrs. Wise opened her mouth, as though she was about to argue, and then closed it again. She paused, then said robustly, "Well, whatever the case, he is not making you happy, and that is enough reason for you to look about you and choose someone else. There are plenty of eligible gentlemen in London. At the moment you have no wish to see them. I understand. Your head has accepted the situation but your heart is still with Mr. Bristow. Never fear, that will pass. I will not plague you by introducing you to eligible gentlemen for the moment. I suggest you simply enjoy our outings as a pleasant change from your former life. There will be time enough for you to think of another husband once your heart has mended."
Oliver cursed under his breath as the butler informed him that Mrs. Wise was not at home. It had taken him over a week to discover the address of Susannah's hostess, and now that he had done so she had refused to see him. He was seized with an urge to argue, and to force his way into the house if necessary, but there were six footmen in the hall, and he could not force his way past them all. But there were other ways to meet with Susannah. He had only to find out where she went and what she did, and he would be able to speak to her, and explain. He could not lose her, not now, not ever.
He made the butler a stiff bow and turned away from the house, descending the steps and then striding back to his lodgings. As he crossed town his mind was active, planning how he might best see her. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that when he entered his lodgings he did not immediately realize that he was not alone. He had entered his sitting-room and thrown down h
is hat before seeing that he had a visitor.
James sprang to his feet.
Oliver stopped short. "How did you get in?" he asked. His tone was not welcoming.
"Your landlady let me in." James looked him in the eye. "I told her I had to see you on a matter of business, and asked if I could wait."
Oliver walked across the room and threw himself into a chair, raising one leg over the arm. "I see. You have come to tell me about the émigrés, I take it? Did they get away safely?"
"Yes. We managed to get them all out of Cornwall, and they have now all been established in new homes."
"Good."
"But that is not why I'm here. I had to come and apologize to you," said James, sitting down. "Edward explained everything to me as soon as you ran out of the kitchen. I would have apologized to you straight away, but you didn't come back into the house, and you left the grounds so quickly I didn't have a chance. I'm sorry. I made a mess of things."
"It wasn't your fault," said Oliver briefly. "I'm glad you spoke out. If I had been using Susannah, it's good to know she would have found a champion in you."
"It's generous of you to say so," said James, relaxing a little. "But I haven't come here only for that. I want to make amends. I thought if you'd found out where Susannah was staying I could go to her and explain. I am the one who made the mess. The least I can do is to clear it up."
"No." Oliver shook his head. "It would do no good. She would not believe you." His voice dropped. "I am the only one who can make her believe."
"Then you've been to see her?"
"I tried. But she wouldn't see me."
"Then let me try."
"No. I mean to find a way, and when I do, I intend to tell her the truth. She has to know that what started out as a challenge turned into love."
"And then?" asked James.
"And then," he said, growing pale, "I have to hope she forgives me."
Since telling Mrs. Wise of her troubles, Susannah had felt some alleviation of her spirits. She no longer had to pretend to enthuse over fashion plates or the latest style of hat, and she was able to look forward to Lady Eldermere's ball, safe in the knowledge that Mrs. Wise would not introduce her to a succession of potential husbands. When it was time for her to dress she sat down at the dressing table whilst Mrs. Wise's maid piled her hair high on her head, arranging a swathe of ringlets over her left shoulder, before decorating it elegantly yet simply with a single ostrich feather. Then, with the help of the maid, she donned her gown. It was a beautiful creation with a white skirt, padded out with a bustle at the back, and a yellow and white striped bodice. She slipped into a pair of yellow silk shoes and the maid fastened a string of pearls round her neck, then she went downstairs.