The Reckless Love of an Heir: An epic historical romance perfect for fans of period drama Victoria. Jane Lark
are only to drive to Uncle Robert’s. It is the neighbouring estate. We will hardly be accosted in the four miles along the highway.”
“But it will be near dark and we know there are highway men in the area—”
Susan picked up the gauntlet and tackled her mother’s fear. “And no one will know we intend to use that very small stretch of rarely travelled road at that hour. I am sure that highwaymen do not have psychic powers and they would not lay in wait with the potential hope of never seeing a single carriage pass. We will be safe.”
Alethea smiled at Susan, with a look in her eyes that said, thank you, before she left the room.
Susan’s mother shook her head, but her lips twisted in a wry smile. “There is always an answer from you. Your sister should be more grateful.”
Susan did not mean to argue but if there was sense and reason to be spoken or a fact to be taken into account, she would say it, that was all.
Susan gave her mother an amused smile, mimicking the humour her mother had spoken with. “I shall go up to my room and fetch my bonnet and cloak.” She bobbed a very quick curtsy before turning to leave, to prepare for their arduous journey of a few moments.
“Enjoy your day, dear! Give my regards to Jane and Robert!” Her mother called after her.
She did not mind visiting Farnborough really, she liked her aunt and uncle, and Sarah and Christine, Henry’s sisters. And Uncle Robert’s huge library, which was three times the size of her father’s was a strong persuader.
When she walked down the shallow steps to the hall after collecting her things, Alethea awaited her.
“There you are. Hurry!”
Susan smiled. She was as different to her sister as it was possible to be, both in looks and character, and yet they were close. But it was just the two of them, they did not have a large family like Henry’s, or his cousins’. Henry and his cousins had the opportunity to choose the brother or sister who most suited them as their closest confidant, she and Alethea had each other and that was all. Susan was happy for it to be so, though, there was a bond between them that might not exist in a large family.
A footman opened the door. Alethea turned and walked out, at her usual hasty pace.
Alethea was forever in a hurry to experience and enjoy every single moment of life. Susan preferred not to hurry, to dwell on things, to look at them for a length of time and study them in detail, not rush past. She had often stopped Alethea to point out a beautiful view or a wild flower, a butterfly or a bird in a tree. There were so many things that Alethea missed.
Susan smiled at the thought as she stepped off the last stair.
Alethea’s nature was not hers, but it was infectious. She did love her sister no matter that they were so different. Alethea’s enthusiasm could not be ignored.
Susan quickened her pace and hastened out of the door in pursuit.
Alethea was climbing the step into the carriage, her fingers clasping the hand of a footman.
A second footman stood on the plate at the back of the carriage holding the iron bar and an additional groom sat beside the coachman on the box. Susan’s mother had instigated a larger escort for her precious daughters regardless.
Susan took the footman’s hand, climbed the step into the carriage and sat beside Alethea.
“Do you think he may have changed?” Alethea asked when the door shut.
The carriage jolted forward into motion and rocked to the side as the footman who had helped them jumped on to the second perch at the rear.
“It has been less than a year.” Yet it had been nearly a year.
“I know, but he writes of such larks in town, do you think he will think me dull now?”
“He will not think you dull. No one that we know has ever thought you dull.” No one could accuse Alethea of that, she was constantly in motion or conversing.
“But he has the women in London to compare me to and he describes London society as such an improvement on our quiet, country life.”
“Yet the moment he is home he has sent for you. He cannot dislike the idea of your company.”
Alethea looked at Susan and bit her lip for a moment. It was a very slight gesture but Susan noticed the sign of self-consciousness and uncertainty. It was unlike Alethea.
“He did not.” Alethea clarified. “Sarah sent the letter. I asked her to.”
Oh. That redeemed him a little in Susan’s current ill-judgement, if he had not sent for Alethea to come and play nursemaid. “He will love you still,” she reassured. “Merely look at his expression when he sees you and it will show you.”
His brown eyes, the rich colour of sweet chestnuts at the moment their green pods split open, had always lit up with the warmth of an appreciative smile whenever he looked at Alethea. Even when they’d been young he’d thrown glinting looks at Alethea and challenged her to a race or the solving of a conundrum or the telling of the best joke.
But then Alethea had always been the pretty and the vibrant one and Henry the handsomest and wildest. They were well matched.
Susan pressed the tip of her finger on to the bridge of her spectacles and slid them a little farther up her nose. Alethea had golden hair and eyes the colour of forget-me-not petals. She was often called a remarkable beauty in Susan’s hearing. So why would Henry not admire her no matter how pretty the women were in London.
Susan had mousey-brown hair and eyes that were steel-grey not blue. She had never received the same accolade—people did not use the word beautiful to describe her.
It was fortunate, really, that she was not like her sister in character as much as they were unlike in looks, because if she had Alethea’s nature she would be jealous. As it was she was as much in awe of her sister’s beauty as others and she thanked heaven that neither jealousy nor vanity were emotions she was afflicted with. She was quite content to be herself, the less amusing, less charming and less attractive sister. Susan could stand in a room and very easily disappear by simply not speaking, which meant that if she did disappear and leave a room, no one noticed her slip away.
“What should I say to him, when I see him?”
“Hello, perhaps…”
“Do not tease me. Tell me. My stomach is all upside down. I wish it had not been so long. Do you think he will look different?”
Alethea’s questions and her stream of concerns continued as the carriage gently rocked and creaked, navigating the rutted road leading to the Barrington’s estate.
Alethea clasped the footman’s hand and descended from the carriage into the courtyard at Farnborough.
When Alethea had let go Susan held his hand and climbed down.
The air was full of the sound of the splashing water pouring from the fountain.
The front door opened. Davis the Barrington’s elderly butler stood there, ready to welcome them.
Alethea immediately said, “I wish to see Lord Henry.”
“He is in the family drawing room, Miss Forth, do come in. Shall I introduce you?”
Alethea was already stepping in as he spoke, she had not awaited his invitation. Davis was used to her ways, though. “There’s no need, Davis. Sarah sent for me. They are expecting us, and we know where it is of course.”
Susan stepped into the hall. Davis bowed to her.
They’d spent many hours here as girls, because