Chapter Nine
"How dare she! High and mighty troll, no sense or manners, how did she ever manage to become anything of importance?”
Muttering under her breath was all that kept her from tears as she marched away from the Tarletons’ rented townhome. Mrs. Tarleton had been nothing more than a mouthpiece for her aunt, Lady Greversham, who had wasted no time at all in coming in herself and tearing Susannah apart piece by piece, without knowing anything about her. Not that she cared, she simply insulted everything she could find and then dismissed her.
She wouldn’t have wanted to work for such a family anyway.
Lady Greversham had spoken to her niece the entire time as if Susannah were not in the room, though she stared at her while doing so. Her looks were all wrong, she was too skinny, yet too voluptuous, too dark, and yet sickly, and her hair was unnaturally colored. She had claimed Susannah was a conniving social climber trying for positions to which she was not qualified for.
She had accused her of being a carrier for infidelity, illegitimacy, and blackmail, who would destroy the family and twist the minds of the children. She was undoubtedly a cast-off daughter who had ruined herself and her family, possibly broken the heart of some deluded chap, reduced to using a false name, and now unsuitable for any sort of proper society.
If only that last hadn’t been true.
Susannah walked faster, shaking her head as her eyes began to burn. Why was there truth in her attacks? Why could she somehow cut Susannah despite knowing nothing?
It would never match what Susannah thought of herself, but it was enough.
“Susannah?”
Her breath hitched on a painful hiccup.
Colin was suddenly at her side, matching her pace. “What’s the rush? What are you…? Good heavens, Susannah, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head, knowing she could not trust her voice. She could barely breathe without bursting into wild sobs, and that would not do.
Colin moved in front of her and stopped her movement, hands firmly gripping her arms. “What’s happened, Susannah? Are you ill? Are you in danger? What?”
She shook her head again and looked down at her toes. She could not meet his eyes. Colin had always had too much power over her; one look at him would ruin her. She swallowed hard and her breath caught on a shallow exhale.
His hands were suddenly on her face, cupping the back of her head, his palms at her jaw. He tilted her face up and she closed her eyes rather than look at him. She trembled more dangerously in his hold than she had yet.
“Look at me.”
She twitched at the gentle command, her hands reaching up to wrap around his wrists for support, and her eyes opened of their own accord.
His expression was soft, concerned, and curious. “What’s wrong?”
Her grip on him clenched and a weak, distressed sound escaped her lips.
His eyes widened at it, and his face tightened. He moved his hands from her face to her arms. “Come on,” he urged, moving her off of the path and into a thick stand of trees, out of sight of anyone who might pass.
She held his wrists still, knowing that without that hold, she would not be able to stand. Everything was rising too fast, too powerfully, and she was so tired, so weak. There was no strength left to fight it.
Colin’s hands suddenly moved to wrap around her and pull her tightly against his chest. She stiffened at it, her hands freed of their support and now suspended in the air awkwardly. “Let it out,” he whispered, his mouth dangerously close to her ear. “Let it go. I won’t tell a soul.”
Swallowing repeatedly, fighting the comfort being in his arms afforded, she hesitated.
His arms tightened. “I’ve got you. Let it out.”
Her trembling increased and her heart could not take it. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her fingers clutching at his coat, and she buried her face into his shoulder as tears and sobs exploded from her. Her slight frame was wracked with cry after cry, and Colin held her steady and sure for the whole of it. His hold never wavered, his warmth never faded, and the soothing words he murmured settled as a balm on her unseen wounds.
When at last she was coherent, which took some time, she eased herself away from him, reluctant but determined. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice a rasp in her throat. “I’m sorry for being a watering pot.”
Colin, however, was not finished. He kept a hand at her back, his eyes still fixed on her face. “What happened?”
She looked up at him, thought up a hundred different things she could say to avoid it, and then gave up. What was the point of resisting him any longer? She sighed and let him pull her into a walk beside him, his hand moving at last to loop her arm through his. To anyone watching, they might have been any couple having a pleasant walk in the park. They would never see how much she allowed him to support her in this fashion.
She softly relayed the entire story of her interview and what Lady Greversham had said. When she had finished, her hold on Colin tightened again, tears rising anew. He was furious; she could feel it in the steely tension of his arm.
He suddenly released an expletive of such a horrid nature that she looked up at him in surprise. He shook his head and covered her hand with his own. “Apologies. But I can’t think of a more polite way to describe her.”
Susannah almost laughed in spite of her tears. She swallowed hard and whispered, “What hurt the most was how close she was to the truth. And how violently she spelled it out.”
“No, Susannah,” Colin urged, gripping her hand tightly, “there is no truth there at all.”
But it was too late, Susannah could not stop herself from telling him exactly how she felt. “I may not fit her mold exactly, but you must admit there is a certain parallel there. Particularly with regards to men and hearts.”
“Don’t.”
She brushed angrily at her fresh tears with her free hand. “I have to, Colin. I need to… to tell you how sorry I am. I knew I had hurt you, I was well aware that I was destroying what we had. I have lived with that guilt, have been haunted by it…”
“I don’t want to live in the past, Susannah,” Colin interrupted, his own voice rough. “It is done, it happened, it’s over.”
Could he not see? It would never be over. She shook her head. “I won’t ask for your forgiveness because I do not deserve it. But I want you to know that I am so very sorry. I have been sorry every day for fifteen years.” Her voice broke and she could not say another word.
“Susannah…”
She looked away, biting down on her lip hard.
“Did you have to do it?” he asked softly.
She nodded just once.
“Then I accept it.”
She jerked in his hold and her eyes flew to his. “What?” she gasped.
He seemed surprised by the words himself. “I am… actually not sure what just happened, but suddenly that doesn’t matter anymore.”
“You’re joking,” she managed in a squeaking voice.
He slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“That’s not possible.” It came out as a whisper, her entire body somehow both hot and cold, and all she could feel was his arm beneath her hand and the heat of his hand on hers.
He smiled, his thumb absently stroking her hand. “I know. Believe me, I know. And yet…” He shrugged, his smile growing.
This was no smiling matter. She wet her lips and slowly tried, “Colin…”
He sobered at once. “I don’t know what it means, not yet. But… I want to see you more, not just for business or by coincidence. I want to intentionally see you, talk with you, plot Lady Greversham’s mysterious demise with you…”
A startled, yet delighted laugh escaped her and she covered her mouth, her heart swelling at least twice its size in her chest.
Colin’s smile returned in all its glory, and he held her hand more tightly. “I want to be friends again. In truth, not just for old time’s sake. Can we do that?”
Could she? Could she really take the chance to glimpse heaven, even if it could not last?
Slowly, very distinctly, she nodded. Then nodded again.
His smile impossibly grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Good,” was all he said, holding her eyes captive with his. Then he abruptly cleared his throat and tore his gaze away. “Now, here’s what I propose: I have a great many friends in London, each with their own valuable connections. I may have only given half effort before, which is careless on my part, but it will have the full measure of my attention and influence now.”
“You don’t need to ask everyone,” Susannah insisted, her voice finding its usual strength and tone at last.
He chuckled. “Oh, I will talk to exactly one person and that is all I need to.”
“Who?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.
His smile turned devious. “Lady Tabitha Raeburn. The most terrifying woman in England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and I’m quite certain a few countries on the continent as well.”
“Oh my,” Susannah murmured, swallowing nervously. “I should have thought that title belonged to Lady Greversham.”
He snorted. “Lady Greversham has all the mannerisms of a cross between a troll and a gargoyle, and the only reason she has not turned to stone yet is that all forms of stone take great affront to that idea.”
Susannah snickered helplessly and clamped down on her lips as a few men on horseback tipped their hat at Colin.
“No,” he went on as if he’d said something normal, “Lady Greversham will never even half match Tibby, in influence, popularity, good taste, or splendor. Plus, Tibby adores me. She’ll find you a position that will be beyond perfect, I am quite sure of it. Good housing, excellent pay, high-quality family, and most importantly, close to me so I can keep an eye on you.” He grinned raffishly at her.
Her heart had begun pounding a steady, but fervent cadence against her chest. He was making plans already, she could see it in his face. She adored him, loved what he was suggesting, admired his determination to watch over her, but…
“I have something to tell you,” she said slowly, unable to return his smile.
He caught the serious tone and he stopped their walking. “What?” he asked, looking closely.
She released a slow, soft exhale, swallowed, and met his eyes steadily. “I have a child.”
Colin stared at her for the space of seven heartbeats, only able to blink, his mind seeming to move backwards at a snail’s pace. He could not seem to understand the relatively simple words that had just come from her mouth.
A child? How was that even possible?
He swallowed as his mind laughed at him. Of course, he knew it was possible, and he knew how, but he had never thought, for one moment…
“A child?” he asked, his voice not nearly the steady, unaffected air he would have liked.
Susannah seemed to sense his turmoil. She gave him the slightest smile and tried to pull her hand away again. He wished she wouldn’t do that. He was not going to let her go, and at this moment, her hand was the only thing anchoring him to the ground.
Her eyes widened at his increased hold. She swallowed and wordlessly tilted her head in a question.
He somehow managed to hold her gaze. He might be tossed about, might not know what to think about her being a mother, but he was not so far gone that he was stupid enough to let her pull away now.
“Yes,” she said at last, her smile returning with a quizzical curve, “a son.”
A son. His Susannah had borne her husband a son. An heir, if they were at such a height in Society. Faintly, it occurred to him to wonder if this boy looked like his mother or his late father. At least six different faces sprang into mind as he imagined this lad, some looking like Susannah, some looking like various men he had seen around London, and one that looked too much like him for comfort.
He fought the urge to shake his head to dismiss that one. That, at least, was one he knew did not exist.
The twinge of disappointment at the thought was something he was entirely unprepared for.
“Tell me about him,” he asked, suddenly having the most intense desire to know everything.
He was not so polite as to have entirely innocent motives. He felt this churning in his stomach, something bitter and snarling that wanted to hate her for daring to have another man’s child. But his better nature tamped that urge down and kept the beast contained. He may not know what he would do with this information once he had it, he might harbor some resentment that was irrational and immature, but he did know that Susannah was his friend, was rapidly becoming more important to him, and if she had a child to think of, that meant he would deal with that as well.
Susannah looked as though she would refuse to tell him, as her eyes searched his, still uncertain and untrusting. But eventually, she relaxed once more in his hold and he felt her fingers curl around his arm in an unspoken expression of gratitude.
“His name is Freddie,” she said softly, unable to keep from smiling. “He is seven years old, and already too smart for me to keep up with.”
Colin found himself smiling with her. “Seven?” he asked, quickly doing the simple math. “That seems…” He trailed off as he realized there was no polite way to say what he was thinking.
But Susannah caught his meaning and her smile turned fixed. “He was an accident. My husband let me know very early on that he had no intention of producing children with me, though he was eager enough with others. He went to great pains to prevent a child on those occasions he was bored enough to visit his wife. One night he had too much to drink, and…” She shrugged lightly, but Colin saw the coiled tension in her frame.
There was far more to the story than she was sharing with him. Now was not the time for further exploration into it, but he would not let this go.
“So Freddie was born after that?” he asked, shifting topic away from her husband.
She nodded. “My husband was… less than pleased. He wanted me to get rid of it. Always calling him ‘it,’ even after he was born. He paid him no mind, except when he had to, and we liked it that way. Freddie has no real memories of his father, and he is far better for it.”
Colin’s bitter and snarling monster was threatening to roar to life for entirely different reasons. He found himself disappointed that this man was already dead, because he would dearly have loved to put him there himself. Any man who wished to rid the world of an infant deserved to have the world rid of him. And to treat Susannah with apparently no more interest was the most idiotic and blasphemous thing he had ever heard.
“So you see how this complicates matters,” Susannah moved on with a sigh. “It is not only me to think about, but my son.”
Colin looked at her and realization dawned. “That is why you are so thin,” he murmured, his eyes widening. “You’ve been sacrificing yourself for Freddie.”
Her eyes were moist as she looked back at him. “Can you blame me? I’ve had to make do with what I could, knowing debts had to be paid and my son fed, clothed, warm… I could manage well enough, but I could not see him want for much.”
He found himself swallowing with difficulty. He reached out and brushed away a tear that rolled down her cheek. “I understand,” he said, allowing himself to give her a small smile, though his body seemed turned to ice at the prospect she was painting.
And he did understand. Before, he never would have considered such a thought. It would have been a completely foreign concept. He probably would have laughed at it. But since the day the girls had come into his life, everything was changed.
He was changed.
“You do, don’t you?” she murmured in wonder.
He could only nod.
The relief in her smile was palpable. “Then you can see why I have to be more selective in my employment. I cannot bring Freddie with me, not if I am to pose as a single woman.”
He would not have thought of that. Now his mind whirled with every conceivable disaster that could occur. A bewildering sense of panic welled up. “What if you had been hired on with someone who wanted you in-house?” he cried, releasing her and running his hands through his hair. “What would your son have done then?”
“Don’t you think I worried about that?” she replied only slightly calmer than he was. “I was terrified of what he would have to endure. Of having to be parted from him. Of trusting his care to others long-term, as I have had to just to find interviews. But a widow with a son has very little respectable options, unless she is willing to make significant sacrifices. I will not give up my son, unless I have sunk so low he would do better without me.”
Colin stared at her in horror. “Surely it is not so bad as that…” he managed slowly.
She gave him a hollow, almost empty look that was destined to haunt him. “It is every bit as bad as that. I had even thought about becoming a mistress.”
His stomach plummeted to his toes. “What?” The word was hardly a breath, his lips forming around it with difficulty.
She would not look at him. “It would allow me to be well provided for, as most gentlemen would not care about the baggage with a mistress if it does not affect him. I could stay with Freddie and earn substantial funds in the meantime. And I have been married, after all…”
Images flashed into his mind of nameless, faceless men putting their hands on her. Darkened rooms, secret liaisons, Susannah wrapped in finery while leering eyes made a meal of her. “No,” he growled darkly.
Susannah looked at him then, brows raised. “Excuse me?”
He shook his head very deliberately, his frame the slightest bit tremulous with his rage. “No. No, no, and hell no.”
Susannah opened her mouth, but Colin shook his head again, grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her flush against him.
“Don’t think that, don’t speak of it again, and don’t ever wonder about it. I would steal the Crown jewels and be hanged before I would let you do that to yourself. Or to Freddie.” He wanted to bury his face against her until he was calm once more. He wanted to pull her tighter, closer, until she was part of him, always safe and where he could see her.
Undoubtedly confused, Susannah patted his back awkwardly. “I won’t, Colin. I promise.”
“Thank you.” He sighed and felt some of the tension leave. He slowly let her move out of his arms, but was quick to loop her hand through his arm and begin to walk again.
An idea formed in his mind, an insane, crazed, ridiculous idea that made absolutely no sense at all. And yet, it was the most brilliant idea he’d ever had.
“All right,” he said in a matter-of-fact way, “send your son to live with us and he can run around with my sisters until we find you something suitable.”
Susannah stumbled a step, but he caught her with ease. “What?” she nearly shrieked. “No, Colin, what would people say?”
He shrugged one shoulder, but gave her an honest look. “I haven’t a clue, but they don’t know how many siblings I’ve inherited or what genders, so we could easily pass him off as another.”
Susannah made them stop and took both of Colin’s arms. “You would… You are willing to claim Freddie as one of them?”
He copied her hold and stroked her upper arms softly. “Who is going to ask? I would be more than happy to claim guardianship if it came down to it. And it would do the girls some good to have a boy around to keep them from getting silly.”
She did not smile. “Colin… You don’t have to.”
One side of his mouth curved and he stroked her arms once more, then turned her so they could walk again. “I know. But you are trying to do the best for your son. I can help you with that. Lord knows he will do better if his mother is in his life.”