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That night,as Susan and the rest of the Wingfield-Calthorpe party from Billington House arrived at Lady Duncans’ musicale, she was a woman on a mission. As a matter of fact, she was a woman on not one or two, but three separate but equally important missions.
First, she was desperate to discover whether any chance at all remained for her to rekindle the romance she and Lord Seabury had begun at the Calthorpes’ Yuletide Ball. Her heart belonged to him, and she simply could not let that hope go without a fight.
Second, she was bound and determined to discover who had started the rumour which had created her entanglement with the Count in the first place. She had also sent off a message to Mr Stephens, the Bow Street Runner, during the afternoon, explaining what she wished him to investigate. Whether by her own actions, or his, when she discovered who it was, she had every intention of bringing them to justice.
Third, she truly did intend to make good on her offer to help the Count D’Asti find a wealthy wife, and the sooner the better. The sooner he was happily married off to a wealthy wife, the sooner Susan would be free.
The Wingfield women arrived in one carriage, and the Calthorpes arrived in another, but they all gathered into a rather impressive eight-woman party before entering the Duncans’ townhouse for tonight’s promised musicale.
Mere moments after entering the townhouse, Susan spotted Lord Seabury at the far end of the entrance hall. Her chest constricted painfully, and she felt a tug deep in her core, some instinct which tried to propel her towards him. She ached to be near him, but after the way he had left the day that the Count D’Asti showed up? It was probably best to keep her distance, unless—
Lord Seabury looked up from the conversation he was engaged in at that very second, his gaze instantly meeting Susan’s. She felt as if they were both locked in that moment, that glance, as if for a second, no one else existed, and she held as still as she could manage to for fear of shattering the spell of it.
Susan stood there, gazing back at Lord Seabury, with her heart in her throat and every nerve ending in her body tingling with awareness and longing. For that tenuous moment, she could have sworn that she felt warmth and interest radiating across the room from him to her.
Then, Lord Seabury balled his hands into fists at his sides and looked away, as if determined to forget that he’d ever seen Susan in the first place. It wouldn’t have hurt as badly if he’d physically slapped her. Him turning away, turning his back on her, told Susan everything she needed to know. If any hope of rekindling their romance existed, it was a very small chance indeed.
Georgiana, who stood at Susan’s side, must have witnessed the entire silent exchange, because she reached over and laced her gloved fingers with Susan’s, giving them a gentle squeeze. Susan squeezed back, taking a deep, shaking breath as they moved toward the large room which had been created by opening up the panels between two parlours, with its rows of chairs all facing the dais where the promised Austrian pianist was to perform for this particular gathering of the ton.
The Wingfields and Calthorpes had been some of the last guests to arrive, with only the Count D’Asti arriving after them. So, when they entered the performance room, very few empty chairs remained. Though some strange twist of fate, Susan and Lady Eugenia ended up at the back of their party, leaving Susan no choice but to occupy the empty chair beside Lord Seabury’s. Lady Eugenia seated herself on Susan’s other side, and the Count D’Asti seated himself beside Eugenia, in the only remaining empty seat in the room.
Lord Seabury remained staring straight ahead, obviously intent on ignoring Susan. Well, if that was the way he wanted it, two could play at that game. She angled herself toward Eugenia and cleared her throat, then spoke in a tone low enough that it would make it clear that neither Lord Seabury nor Lord D’Asti was welcome in the conversation she was striking up. Neither of them would even be able to hear what she said, despite their closeness. She leaned close to Eugenia’s ear, cupping her hand to keep the people around them from attempting to guess what she was saying merely by the way her lips moved.
“So, Eugenia, when do you expect Edward to return with your riddle for the hunt?”
Eugenia’s eyes brightened as she leaned towards Susan, replying in an equally conspiratorial whisper.
“I have no idea, but I am so eager for him to return. I can hardly wait to find out what treasure Edward uncovered, and — even more than that — I cannot wait to see what Grandfather left especially for me. Whatever it is, I am sure it will be wonderful.”
“I truly hope it is everything you deserve and more, my friend.”
As Eugenia opened her mouth to respond, the pianist strode up to the dais. A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned to the night’s entertainment. Despite the fact that she wasn’t looking at Lord Seabury, Susan’s senses prickled with an awareness of him which she couldn’t shake. He was so close, but his silence and lack of acknowledgment left an impassable gulf between them.
Almost halfway through the first movement, Lord Seabury leaned — just the slightest bit — towards Susan.
“What do you think of the pianist’s playing?”
“Would you prefer an honest answer, or a polite one, Lord Seabury?”
“I much prefer honesty, Miss Wingfield.”
“In that case, he plays like a coward.”
“I beg your pardon? His technical execution is perfect.”
“I did not say that his technical execution wasn’t perfect. I said he plays like a coward.”
“And I demand to know what you mean by that.”
“His playing is entirely without passion, without feeling of any kind.”
“And playing with passion trumps impeccable technical execution, Miss Wingfield?”
“Absolutely.”
Susan hissed the word with conviction.
* * *
The Count D’astiwas quite surprised when the young lady beside him — Lady Eugenia Calthorpe, if he wasn’t mistaken — leaned towards him and whispered, though they had not yet been properly introduced. Marco darted a quick glance around, hoping that no one would see or note their exchange.
“Why do I feel as though Susan and Lord Seabury are mere moments away from creating an absolute scene?”
Marco suppressed a chuckle. Her voice was far more melodious and ethereal even than the complex piece the Austrian pianist was playing. The good humour and warmth in her observation made Marco smile, despite the fact that he knew they shouldn’t be speaking to one another.
He leaned forward, then, looking around Lady Eugenia to see Lord Seabury and Miss Wingfield hissing furiously at one another in whispered tones, and frowned deeply.
If he hadn’t decided to pursue that fool rumour about Miss Wingfield being promised to him since birth, despite knowing that there was no truth to it, she might not look so utterly livid now. Marco frowned deeply. It had been selfish of him to try to use Miss Wingfield and the rumour to solve the issues with his debts. He was a better man than this. He had to be better than this, and he certainly would not drag Lady Eugenia into the tangled mess he’d created by trying to trap Miss Wingfield in the first place.
“I’m afraid I must beg your leave. You should not be seen speaking to me when we have not yet been introduced. It might cause a scandal, and I have already been at the centre of too many of those. I would hate to damage your reputation in any way. Buona notte. Spero ci incontreremo ancora.”
* * *
