Anne Herries - Debutante in the Regency Ballroom - A Country Miss in Hanover Square

Immediately, Susannah ran back down the stairs and entered the parlour. Amelia was sitting in an elbow chair, her face hidden in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking and Susannah knew that she was crying.

‘Do not,’ she cried. ‘Oh, do not, dearest. He is an awful brute and you must not let him hurt you.’

Amelia looked up and the look of grief in her eyes tore at Susannah’s eyes. ‘I do not cry because of what Michael said—but because it may be partly true. All those years ago, Gerard went away without trying to see me, Susannah. Had he asked me then, I would have run away with him even though my brother forbade me—but he went without seeing me. I know that Gerard has had difficulty with his estate. It may be that he is interested now because I have a fortune. I am not sure that he cares for me at all …’

‘Oh, but he does,’ Susannah declared impetuously. ‘I have seen the longing in his face when he looks at you—’ She broke off in case she had said too much. ‘Forgive me for my presumption, dearest Amelia, but I have seen the way he looks at you sometimes. I am sure that he loves you.’

‘He has given me no sign,’ Amelia said. She took the kerchief Susannah offered and wiped her face. ‘This is foolish! It was all such a long time ago. I should not care for such foolishness now.’

‘It is not foolish to wish to be loved,’ Susannah said. ‘Especially if the other person loves you.’

‘No—not if the other person loves you,’ Amelia said, returning her kerchief. ‘How ridiculous of me to weep like this. I seldom do so, I assure you. It was just that we danced and I thought … But no matter. He has not spoken and I dare say he will not.’

‘You cannot know that,’ Susannah said and pressed her hand. ‘You must not give up hope—and you must not listen to Sir Michael.’

‘Well, I shall not listen to my brother, because I know that he intended to hurt and humiliate me, as he has so often,’ Amelia said and kissed Susannah’s cheek. ‘How fortunate for me that I have such friends. I shall miss you when you marry, dearest Susannah. I have felt able to tell you things I could say to no one else, dearest.’

‘I am not sure when that will be,’ Susannah told her ruefully. ‘Harry has not spoken, either. I do not know if he ever will. What a pair we are!’

‘Yes, indeed! Gentlemen are so trying! We shall forget them and visit the milliner. A new bonnet will banish the blues as nothing else.’ Amelia stood up. ‘I shall tidy myself and then we shall go out.’

Harry had been fencing with his regular sparring partner when he saw Northaven walk into the club. He frowned—he had not been aware that the man was a member here.

‘That is enough for today, Monsieur Ferdinand,’ he said and accepted a towel from one of the attendants. ‘I am not sure when I shall find time to train with you again, but I have enjoyed today’s session.’

‘We look forward to your visits. It is seldom that I have the pleasure of sparring with so complete a swordsman. Even the Earl of Ravenshead is not as accomplished, my lord.’

‘Thank you. I take that as a true compliment.’ Harry inclined his head and turned away. He might have stayed for another hour, but he did not care to have Northaven watch him. ‘Until we meet again.’

He frowned as he walked away. He might have to change his fencing master if Northaven and his clique were permitted here. It would be a pity, for Ferdinand was a specialist, but he did not want to find himself facing the marquis in a practice bout. He might be tempted to run him through!

‘Leaving so soon?’ Northaven asked, a sneer on his mouth. ‘I came especially to watch you, Pendleton. They tell me you are almost as fine a swordsman as you are a shot.’

‘I believe I am an adequate match for most,’ Harry said. ‘However, fencing for sport is one thing, fighting for your life on the battlefield is quite another.’

Their eyes met and held for a moment and Northaven looked away first. ‘If you imagine I had anything to do with what happened to you and Coleridge in Spain, you are mistaken. Why should I betray my own countrymen?’

‘I have no idea,’ Harry said. ‘Believe me, had I been able to find proof I should have had you court-martialled.’

‘I am no traitor,’ Northaven snarled. His eyes glittered with fury. ‘I may not be as much of a gentleman as you, Pendleton—but I wouldn’t have told the French of your intentions. In that you have maligned me and I resent it.’

‘I heard that you were drunk, shooting off your mouth about it being a risky mission,’ Harry told him, his expression hard, unforgiving. ‘Surely you must have been aware that we were surrounded by spies? Even if you did not betray us intentionally, it was because of your loose talk that so many died that day …’

‘Anyone can have too much to drink,’ Northaven told him. ‘If I did what you say, then challenge me to a duel. Let’s fight it out and get this quarrel over. It has festered between us long enough.’

‘Is that why you decided to take fencing lessons?’

Harry asked. ‘I shouldn’t bother if I were you. I have no desire to fight you, and if I did I should choose pistols.’

‘You think I’m too much of a coward to face you with pistols, don’t you?’

‘I really could not care less,’ Harry said. ‘You are wasting your time trying to provoke me. I shall not challenge you to a duel—and you would do well to forget the idea. If I wanted to kill you, I had my chance when you insulted Miss Hampton. I did not think you worth the effort then and I do not now.’

‘Damn you! You insult me. If I wanted you dead, a bullet in the back would do it,’ Northaven retorted. ‘Since you think me a coward and a scoundrel, why shouldn’t I just hire someone to kill you?’

‘Because you might die at the end of a rope,’ Harry said. ‘The best thing for all of us would be if you took yourself off abroad, Northaven. Go to Paris or Rome and fight your brawls there. Your welcome grows thin in London, believe me.’ He walked away, leaving Northaven to stare after him, resentment and anger in his eyes.

One of these days Harry Pendleton was going to get what he deserved. Northaven had no idea whether or not his careless words when drunk had led to the ambush on Harry and his men, but he knew that all three of them blamed him for the death of the ten men killed that day.

Before that day he had been one of them. Since then they had treated him like a pariah—and he hated them all, Harry Pendleton more than the others. He would wait his chance for revenge! If it took him a lifetime, he would bring them down one by one. There was more than one way of skinning a cat …

He would find something—a weak spot—and then he would strike!

Susannah wore a new gown of green silk with a pelisse of pale yellow; her bonnet was green with a trim of yellow daises at the brim; her reticule was fashioned of yellow silk and trimmed with beads. She had York tan gloves and half-boots of kid, her hair peeping out from beneath her bonnet in a most fetching manner.

Harry’s heart caught as he saw her. She looked so young and innocent, the very essence of spring, and he was a little sorry he had changed his mind about eloping with her. However, it was not the behaviour of a gentleman and he would never have even thought of it, had Susannah not told him that she craved adventure. He was pleased that his plans now were simply to drive her to the park and back. He might even speak to her during their excursion. He thought she liked him well enough, but in his heart he wanted her to love him wildly, passionately—the until-death-do-us-part kind of love that his saner side knew belonged only in romances. Yet if he married her without believing that she loved him, he knew that he might find it unbearable.