Page 19 of Pursued Beyond Treachery
His words pulled tears to the surface. “Me too, Papa.”
He gathered her hands in his. “Be careful, Nan. Not every man in London is honorable. And if it comes to choosing between status and true affection, I beg you to choose love like your mother and I did. It may not bring you fine furs and fancy dresses, but it will fill your heart with more wealth than any rich man could ever give.”
The tears trickled down her cheeks and she threw her arms about him. “Oh Papa, I shall miss you.”
“And I you, my girl.”
“Are you ready, Miss Wayland?” Sir Nathaniel asked as he rounded the back of the post chaise.
Her father kissed the top of her head and released her. Susannah wiped away any trace of her tears, then turned with a smile.
“I am.”
She glanced one more time at her family, then made her way toward the carriage. Sir Nathaniel took her hand to help her in, but before she could set foot on the step, a little brown-clad bullet rushed toward her from the steps of the house and wrapped his arms about her legs.
“Don’t go, Nan. You can find a husband here. Terry has lots of friends or maybe Lord Newhurst will have you. You don’t need to go to London.”
Michael’s cheeks were wet and his grip fierce. She lowered her hands to hold him against her. If only his words were true. She’d stay in a heartbeat if she thought John would ever consider her, but two years had proven his disinterest.
Her father came forward to pry her little brother off her, but before he reached them she said, “I will miss you, Michael. And if you are very good I shall bring you some candy and a trinket when I return.”
The promise did little to calm him, but when her father picked him up, he released her willingly. She placed a hand to one cheek and kissed the other. He gave her a tight squeeze around the neck.
“I will miss you too, Nan,” he said in a tiny broken voice.
Quickly she entered the carriage, trying not to lose her composure again. She needed this trip to London. For her family… and for herself.
Chapter 6
Weeks had come and gone, and Johnathan had done nothing, a whole lot of nothing. Why was he such a coward?
Well, maybe not nothing. Hehadtried one more time to obtain flowers for Susannah, only to run into Nate and Melior before he’d even reached the hothouse. Not wanting to explain himself, he’d turned about to walk with them, taking it as a sign that he was not meant to give Susannah flowers, not from Maidstone anyway.
He’d spent so many days over the last three months in the Waylands’ house with very little to show for it. His painting of her was complete and another one begun, and yet he still had not found the courage to speak more than the plainest pleasantries. In return she’d smiled and chattered on about the future season with all the delight he’d come to expect from her. He’d found peace in those moments, enjoying her cheer as they’d sat by the fire with all her family and welcomed in the new year, but today all that peace was gone.
Today she would leave for London. He would follow soon after, but it still did not comfort him.
Why had Melior insisted on giving Susannah a season?
It was the one question that had plagued him over and over again, and yet he’d not been able to bring himself to ask. Fear of her answer mixed with his stumbling tongue—not that he feared Melior herself, but she read him too well. As the sister of one of his friends, and the wife of another, she knew him better than most. Had she deduced his secret affection? If so, why take Susannah away?
It seemed cruel. But Melior was not cruel, not by nature.
His butler entered the library where Johnathan had taken to sulking, the heavy door complaining loudly at having to be moved. “Sir Nathaniel Stanford to see you, my lord.”
The baronet strode in without waiting for Johnathan’s acceptance.
Shutting the book of poetry he’d not even had the presence of mind to read, he placed the leather-bound copy of Milton’sParadise Loston the round end table near his favorite leather chair. Removing his reading glasses, he blinked up at his friend. Wasn’t Nate supposed to be on the road to Town by now?
“There you are. We have come to take our leave.”
“We?” Johnathan asked.
“Yes, the ladies are waiting in the parlor. I know you are to follow in a few days, but Mel insisted we make our visits.”
Of course she would; she’d been raised to the highest standards. The question that had burned within him came to the surface.
“Why, Nate?”
