Perhaps he had assumed that if he suppressed the thought, the whole ghastly possibility would just go away.
All these jumbled thoughts and counterthoughts flashed through his head in a mere second or two while he smiled cheerfully back at Lauren.
“I have nothing better to do with myself,” he said, “and I would like to see Sydnam again and wish him happy. Yes, I would be delighted to go with you.”
He had thought he would never see Susanna Osbourne again.
He had even thought that within a week or two he might forget how badly he had treated her. Perhaps it was to his credit that he had not done so, though he certainly did not congratulate himself too highly on that score.
But now he was going to Bath. And he almost certainly was going to see her once more.
It was necessary that he do so, he told himself. He would far rather go somewhere else. But he did need to discover if he had done her any lasting harm, and it really was too bad of him that he had left it so long.
Oh, dash it all! What if?…
Yes, indeed.
What if?
13
Susanna returned to Bath in the Earl of Edgecombe’s well-sprung traveling carriage. By the time it rocked to a halt outside the school on Daniel Street, she had tucked away all her raw, bruised emotions deep inside herself and was able to smile as the door opened and Mr. Keeble peered out. Almost immediately Claudia and then Anne came hurrying past him out onto the pavement, both beaming happily as they waited to hug her.
All her emotions were generally happy ones for the next little while as she assured her friends and then the girls, whom she joined in the middle of their tea, that she was very delighted to be back even though she had had an absolutely marvelous time in Somerset. And they all looked delighted to see her. She felt enveloped in familiarity and love.
She was home.
And from this moment on she would have plenty with which to occupy her mind. There was a whole busy school term to plan for and look forward to.
The journey, comfortable as the earl’s carriage undoubtedly was, had been dreadful. With only herself for company, she had been unable to stop the memories of the past two weeks from churning around and around in her head-particularly, of course, the memory of that last afternoon. She could still scarcely believe that it had actually happened-that she had allowed it to happen. But it had-and she had. She had been aware with every turn of the carriage wheels that she was moving farther and farther from him -which was a foolish thought indeed when they had always been universes apart.
Even when they were children his sister had been horrified to see them playing together and had dragged him away.
She had had her great adventure, her grand romance of a lifetime, Susanna decided with great good sense once she was back home, and now it was time to get back to reality.
And yet her determination to be cheerful was tested the very evening of her return. Claudia had gone out to dine with the parents of one of the new pupils, and Anne had invited Susanna to come and sit in her room for a while after all the girls had gone to their dormitory.
Susanna sat on the bed, always her favorite perch, her arms clasped about her raised knees, while Anne sat on the chair beside her desk. They talked about Frances for a while until Anne broke a short, not uncomfortable silence with a question.
“And what of you?” she asked. “Did you really have a lovely time? Did you meet anyone interesting?”
For one moment Susanna considered pouring out the whole sorry story to her friend. But it was just too intensely personal-especially its ending. Maybe later, when the memories were not quite so raw, she would confide in Anne, but not now. Not yet.
“Like a duke to sweep me off my feet and bear me off to his castle as his bride?” She laughed at the old joke. “No, not quite, alas. But Frances and Lord Edgecombe were very obliging, Anne, and made sure that there was some entertainment for me to attend almost every day, even though I am sure they would have been just as happy to relax and be quiet together after being away for so long. I met some amiable and interesting people, most of whom I knew from before, of course.”
“But no one special?” Anne asked.
Susanna’s heart felt like a leaden weight in her chest.
“No,” she said. “Not really.”
Anne raised her eyebrows.
“Only one gentleman,” Susanna said reluctantly, “who made his intentions very clear, and they were not honorable ones. It was the old story, Anne. Yet he was very handsome and very amiable. Never mind. And you? You told us a great deal about your Welsh holiday the evening before I left, but nothing that was very personal. Did you meet anyone interesting?”
Anne and her son, David, had gone to Wales to spend a month with the Bedwyn family on the Duke of Bewcastle’s estate.
“The Bedwyns,” Anne said, smiling, “are all quite fascinating, Susanna-and that is actually an understatement. The Duke of Bewcastle is every bit as formidable as he is reputed to be. He has cold silver eyes and long fingers that are forever curling about the handle of his quizzing glass. He is quite terrifying. And yet he was unfailingly courteous to me. The duchess is a delight and not at all high in the instep, and it is quite clear that he adores her though he is never ever demonstrative in public. He also adores their son, who is a cross, demanding little baby-except when his father is holding him. And he holds him rather often. He is a strange, mysterious, fascinating man.”
Susanna rested her chin on her knees. She was thinking of how words could be true and yet a massive lie at the same time. It was the old story, Anne. Yet he was very handsome and very amiable. Never mind. Just as if the whole relationship with Viscount Whitleaf had been that trivial, that unimportant.
“All this talk of married dukes is depressing me,” she said, smiling as if her heart were not breaking. “Was there no one who was unmarried?”
“No dukes.” Anne smiled too.
Something in her tone alerted Susanna.
“Oh, Anne,” she said. “Who?”
“No one really,” Anne said quickly, shifting position on the chair. “Oh, what a dreadful thing to say of another human being. He very definitely is someone. He is the duke’s steward at Glandwr. He was alone and I was alone, and so it was natural enough that occasionally we walk out together or sit together on evenings when he was invited to dine. That is all.”
“All,” Susanna repeated. “And was he tall, dark, and handsome, Anne?”
“Yes,” Anne said. “All three.”
Susanna continued to gaze at her.
“We were merely friends,” Anne said.
“Were you?” Susanna spoke softly.
“We were. We were…very dear friends,” Anne said.
But Susanna knew something as clearly as if they had both poured out their hearts to each other. They had both met someone very special indeed during their holidays. And they had both returned with bruised, perhaps even broken, hearts.
“But he did not make an offer,” she said. “Anne, I am so sorry.”
There was a lengthy silence, during which Anne did not contradict her.