A Too Convenient Marriage

The sunshine piercing the trees along the front path spread over Susanna, melting away the chill of the Rockland house. Despite having more fireplaces than servants, the stone mausoleum was never warm and neither was the company it kept. In the fresh air, Susanna felt as if she could breathe at long last, though Mr Connor’s arm beneath her hand and his tall figure beside her made each breath shallow and unsteady.

‘Lady Rockland is quite the charming lady,’ Mr Connor remarked as he helped Susanna into the vehicle.

She gripped his hand tightly, more to steady herself from the surprise rocking of her body in his presence than at the twitching springs of the chaise. ‘She was practically polite today, though once we’re wed, I don’t think we’ll have many dealings with her.’

If it wasn’t for the promise she’d extracted from her father to help Mr Connor, she doubted she’d ever see her father again after the wedding. It wouldn’t surprise her. Her grandfather and uncle had breathed a sigh of relief when Lord Rockland had arrived to take her away the day after her mother’s funeral. They’d washed their hands of her, just as Lady Rockland would. Susanna didn’t give a fig about the duchess, but her grandfather and uncle’s utter rejection, after she’d been raised in their presence, had nearly shattered her already mourning heart.

‘I assume, then, we won’t have to entertain august guests at Christmas?’ Mr Connor climbed in beside her, raising her mood despite the old pain biting at her. It felt good to laugh with someone who wasn’t afraid to poke fun at her dour relations. It was a refreshing change to the parade of sycophants who usually wandered into the house.

‘I don’t think we’ll tarnish our dining room with their company.’

‘Good, because I hadn’t intended on purchasing a new dinner service this year.’

He winked at her, then snapped the reins over the horse’s back, urging the fine animal into motion. While he focused on the traffic filling the street, she studied him. A fawn-coloured coat and matching hat set off those teasing brown eyes which had nearly made her stumble on the marble staircase. However, it was the approving nod he’d tossed at her when she’d silently challenged Lady Rockland’s sneer which had filled her with more delight than the sight of his light grey breeches stretching over his strapping thighs. This near-stranger had supported her more in one moment than anyone had in the seven years she’d lived with the Rocklands. She drew her spencer a little tighter over her chest, chilled to realise how narrowly she’d missed being tethered to Lord Howsham, who held as little regard for her as anyone else in her life. The promise of freedom from the Rocklands must have been overwhelming to make Susanna ignore all of Lord Howsham’s faults. Hopefully, it wasn’t blinding her to Mr Connor’s.

‘Speaking of dining, my friends, the Rathbones, have offered to host the wedding breakfast. We’re to join them for supper tomorrow night. They’re eager to meet you.’

‘I’d be delighted to meet them.’ And nervous. As much as society looked down on her, those of the class she’d been born to were usually more vocal in their disapproval of her. For Justin’s sake, she hoped his friends would at least be grudgingly cordial and save their most cutting remarks for after she left. It didn’t matter what they said about her behind her back. She was used to the whispering and it had lost most of its sting long ago.

‘They aren’t the only ones I intend to introduce you to before the wedding.’ He shifted his feet against the boards and for the first time in their brief acquaintance, she suspected he might be nervous. It didn’t seem possible, and yet if she were permitted to wager on it, she felt sure she would win. ‘I’d like to introduce you to my father.’

She wondered what it was about his father that disturbed his ease, though she could well imagine. There was little chance of mentioning anyone in her family without it setting her teeth on edge. ‘I’d be honoured to meet him. I’m curious about the man who’s given you your jovial attitude.’

‘It wasn’t him. That came from my mother. She died when I was fifteen and my father’s good nature died with her.’ The small lines between his eyes deepened with a pensiveness she hadn’t thought possible as he explained how he’d gained control of his father’s affairs and how ungrateful his father had been afterwards.

Then the story ended and with it Justin’s seriousness, which was replaced by a devil-may-care attitude which piqued her curiosity. To all, it appeared as if he didn’t possess a single concern, but no amount of flippancy could completely conceal how deeply his father troubled him, or the hole his mother’s death had left in his life. She knew about such grief; she still lived with it, too. ‘You’ll see what an amiable fellow my father is when you meet him. Prepare to be charmed. He’s more Lady Rockland than Father Christmas and I won’t be shocked if he makes you cry off.’

Her hands curled tight over the edge of the seat as he merged the curricle into the crush on Park Lane. ‘I won’t cry off and you needn’t worry about me meeting your father. I’m used to dealing with difficult relations, Mr Connor.’

‘I’m glad to hear it because I need you.’ He slowed the horse as they made a wide turn on to Kensington Gore. ‘And please, call me Justin. Mr Connor reminds me too much of my father.’

‘And you may call me Susanna.’

He slid her a charming smile. ‘A pretty name for a pretty woman.’

His compliment shocked her, adding to her alarm as he turned the curricle into Rotten Row. ‘No, we can’t go in there.’

‘Why not? You’re a duke’s daughter. I thought the toffs loved to see the high born’s progeny paraded about.’

If it weren’t for the boning in her too-tight stays, she’d have slumped with her displeasure. ‘Not the illegitimate ones, at least not without his Grace present to keep the daughters’ tongues firmly in their heads.’

His curricle joined the stream of carriages entering the park and driving down the wide, dirt path. Mr Connor sat up straighter in the seat, motioning at her to do the same, seemingly oblivious to everything but the direction of his horse and the ribbons in his wide gloved hands.

Susanna tugged her small hat a little further down over her forehead, wishing the brim curled like a poke bonnet instead of up to reveal her face. At least then she might tilt her head and hide behind the straw.

‘If you continue to pull on your bonnet, you’ll tear it,’ Mr Connor chided her good-naturedly.

She let go of the brim. ‘We shouldn’t be here. People are staring.’

She had no desire to be made a spectacle of, especially not with Edgar riding by and scowling at them as though they were beggars who’d happened in on his supper and didn’t belong here. She didn’t. She didn’t belong anywhere.

‘I’m not surprised since I’m alongside the most beautiful woman in the park.’

Her heart fluttered at the compliment. It wasn’t flung off or studied as Lord Howsham’s flattery had been when he’d worked to seduce a naive young woman starving for attention.

Then four young married women passed by in a landau, gaping wide-eyed at her before dipping their heads together to whisper.

‘Ignore them. They mean nothing to us,’ Justin instructed.

‘Then why are we here?’

‘I want you to enlighten me about these people. I know many wealthy merchants. It’s my acquaintance with the better sort which is lacking.’

‘I’m not sure what I can tell you. I don’t really know them any better than you do.’ Invitations weren’t regularly extended to bastards, no matter how influential their father.

‘I’ll wager when you’re sitting silently in your fearsome stepmother’s midst, she talks past you to her husband, or her friends as if you weren’t there. During those conversations, some interesting things must slip out.’

‘Careful, you lost our last wager,’ she warned with a smile.

‘I don’t see it as a loss, but a very interesting gain.’ He turned the horse to avoid an oncoming phaeton with its hood open and its springs strained by the very rotund Lord Pallston.

‘I thought these people meant nothing to us,’ she challenged.

‘Their sensibilities don’t, but their business does. If I can claim one or two great men as clients, it might ensure our success.’ It surprised her how easily our, instead of mine, rolled off his tongue. ‘Now tell me, who’s the round gentleman driving the phaeton as ruddy as his nose? He looks like a man whose thirst could make a wine merchant rich.’

‘I thought you already possessed means.’

‘I used to possess a great deal more before my last venture sank.’ The humour in his eyes hardened, telling her all she needed to know about his last attempt at business. It was admirable of him to keep trying, despite what must have been a considerable setback, and it was more than those around them were capable of doing. It was another trait she and Justin shared—the ability to pick themselves up and continue on. The alternative was too upsetting to consider.

‘He won’t make you rich. He’s Lord Pallston and he doesn’t pay his debts. Few of these great men do. They pride themselves on owing almost every merchant in London.’

Justin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘I know something of collecting debt. I haven’t let a man run out on Mr Rathbone yet.’

‘It’s not worth the effort or the uncertainty. My grandfather was foolish enough to deal with men like Lord Pallston. All they did was drink the wine while we watched our dinners grow thinner and the bills go unpaid.’ She hated to disappoint Justin’s ambition, but if the business was to be hers, too, she knew better than to build their hopes for success on the fickleness or insolvency of the peerage. A need for money often played a part in all these people’s decisions, including Lord Howsham’s, whose debt was about to consume his family estate. She hoped it did. He deserved to be ruined.

* * *

Susanna warning him off pursuing the nobility as clients wasn’t what Justin wanted to hear. If the voice saying it wasn’t so sweet he might have disregarded it, but he understood her reasoning. Philip employed the same logic, rarely lending to great men. When he did, it was only after they’d laid out the silver for Philip to hold until their debt was paid. Justin wasn’t likely to convince any lord to leave a soup tureen as collateral for wine, not when there were a hundred other merchants willing to risk bankruptcy to supply a peer with his Madeira. He’d planned on using Lord Rockland’s influence to bolster his name and perhaps even match Berry Bros. in their success. Now it was clear this part of his business plan might not work as he’d expected.

With one avenue to expand his trade quickly narrowing, the idea he might not succeed in this venture as his father and Helena believed drifted over him like the faint notes of Susanna’s jasmine perfume, only rather less pleasant. He flicked the reins and guided the horse past a lumbering town coach. No, he would succeed and damn his father and Helena. Justin’s desire to capture the business of the haut ton through Susanna might come to nothing, but it didn’t mean he didn’t have more plans or other possible clients. There wasn’t a pub owner or merchant near Fleet Street he hadn’t had some dealings with and most of them were pleasant. He’d make a go of this if he had to call on every man who owed him a favour from here to Cheapside.

‘Does your grandfather still have his shop?’ Justin asked with some hope for his own venture. It might be good to have contacts outside London.

‘I don’t know, though if he and my uncle were on the verge of sinking, I’m sure they’d deign to write to me begging for money, and to remind me how much I owe them for all of their years of kindness. They’ll get nothing if they ever show up on my doorstep.’

‘They sound as warm as mounting blocks.’ Justin laughed.

‘Just like the Rocklands.’ She sighed.