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CHAPTER3
When Susan awoke,it was with a throbbing headache and gloom gripping her heart. The first things she saw were the faces of her mother and her sisters, all staring down at her with worried, pinched expressions.
“Please tell me he’s gone,” Susan rasped, not even bothering to look around and check the room for the Count D’Asti’s presence. Part of her hoped, if he was still there, that he would hear her wishing him to be gone and make himself scarce.
Three sets of eyebrows rose in unison, and Georgiana and Eliza exchanged a significant look.
“What?”
Susan pushed up into a sitting position. Her head throbbed harder, the room spun, and she instantly dropped her face into her hands. The left one was gently bandaged now, she noted, as the fabric rubbed against her cheek. Squeezing her eyes shut, Susan tried — by sheer force of will — to make the spinning stop. It took longer than she would have liked, but finally, the world steadied, and she raised her head to meet each of their gazes in turn.
The three of them exchanged another look which made the hair on the back of Susan’s neck stand up. Their mother was the first to clear her throat and speak.
“Well, to be quite frank, dearest, we are all a bit… surprised by your reaction to the Count’s arrival.”
“What of it?”
Susan crossed her arms and leaned against the settee’s back rest, narrowing her eyes at her mother and sisters.
Georgiana straightened to her full height and mirrored Susan’s movement, crossing her arms as well.
“None of us expected you to be quite so opposed to learning that you are already betrothed to someone, especially after you were so dismissive of my so-called silly romanticism and impossible standards when it comes to men.”
Susan opened her mouth to argue, but Eliza shook a finger at her.
“Georgiana is right, sister. I am shocked that you seem so opposed to your betrothal to the Count D’Asti. You are the most practical, sensible, level-headed one of us. Time and time again, you’ve told me that love should be the least of our concerns when it comes to marriage. Husbands have one purpose, and that purpose is to secure a comfortable and tolerable future. How many times have you said those exact words to me?”
“Must you really throw my words back in my face like that?” Susan threw her hands up and huffed. “When I said those things before, I thought we could not afford to be concerned with love because Papa was gone and our options seemed quite limited, especially after Wadham threw us out without a penny of support to speak of. Now, I am a woman of means. I have an income, and I shall get to the bottom of this business with the Count.”
Eliza cocked her head, studying Susan with keen interest.
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Susan. What is there to get to the bottom of?”
Susan stood, then, pacing closer to the fire to ward off the chill which had gripped her the moment she’d laid eyes on the Count D’Asti.
“I do not believe that his claim is valid! If there were any such arrangement, Papa would have told us. Papa said nothing of it, therefore, no such arrangement exists and that is that. Moreover, I’m not certain I believe there is any such Count at all. For all we know, he might simply be a swindler here to bilk me of every penny I have.”
“And how, exactly, do you plan to discover the truth, one way or the other? It’s his word against ours, and you know how much more power men have in this world than we do, Susan.”
Georgiana sighed, rubbing at her temples in frustration.
Susan shivered and crowded even closer to the fireplace, trying desperately to absorb even the smallest bit of its warmth. She wondered if it would even be possible to burn this bone-deep dreadful chill out of her, but she doubted it.
“I’m going to hire the Bow Street Runners to look into the Count D’Asti. Surely, they can discover if this man is who he says he is.”
“And what if he is who he claims to be? What then?” Eliza pressed, padding over to stand beside Susan. She reached out, gently taking Susan’s hands in hers.
Susan lifted her chin and squeezed Eliza’s hands.
“I’ll just have to find a way to prove that this arrangement never existed. I am not going to marry him, whether he’s truly an Italian Count or not.”
“How did sharing a single dance with Lord Seabury change your outlook on marriage and romance so completely?” Georgiana pressed again, apparently determined to force Susan to admit what she never thought she’d say aloud, as long as she lived.
“Maybe I fell in love with Lord Seabury. There. Are you pleased with yourself for making me say it aloud?”
“Aha,” Georgiana nodded with a sly smile. “The sister who used to claim that there is no such thing as love at first sight has finally experienced it for herself.”
“Don’t gloat, sister,” Susan snorted. “It’s incredibly off-putting.”
Their mother, who had been quiet for the majority of the conversation, finally stepped forward. She crossed the distance from the settee to where Susan stood by the fireplace with swift strides and pulled her middle daughter into a fierce, wordless embrace.
Susan melted into the contact, absorbing her mother’s warmth and kindness until her whole body relaxed and finally, she let out a small sigh of relief.
“What do you think I should do, Mama?”
“Follow your instincts, of course,” Lady Gainsbourne said with an indulgent smile. “If you feel that it would be prudent to hire a Bow Street Runner to look into the Count D’Asti, then that is what you should do, and the sooner the better, dearest.”
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