‘Miss Lambert.’ Justin bowed again, but more shallowly this time, unwilling to cease watching her.
She paused and reached for the banister as if to brace herself before she pulled back her hand and resumed her steady descent. With each drop to the next step, the curls along the arch of her neck just peeking out from beneath her bonnet shivered and he flexed his fingers, envious of the way the locks brushed her smooth skin.
Lady Rockland was not so enamoured of her ward’s regal entrance and scowled at her as Miss Lambert passed by on the way down. Miss Lambert met the woman’s contemptuous sneer with a challenging glance of her own. To Justin’s astonishment, it was the duchess who flinched first.
Justin nodded his silent congratulations to Miss Lambert. She lifted her chin a touch, taking on an air of confidence, but the shift of her green eyes betrayed the vulnerability he’d caught in his conversation with her earlier. In a flash, compassion rose up to overwhelm his desire. He’d been like her once, trying to appear brave while struggling to stand firm against those who wanted to tear him down, especially his father.
‘Shall we?’ Justin proffered his elbow when she reached him.
‘Please.’ Miss Lambert laid a gloved hand on his arm, the expectation in her wide eyes helping him to dismiss his sour memories. He’d learned long ago to laugh and not care what others thought.
‘Try not to embarrass the family while you’re out,’ Lady Rockland warned as she snatched up the edge of her skirt, flung it behind her and flitted off to whatever business consumed her day.
‘I’m sorry,’ Susanna mumbled, the excitement fading from her bright eyes as they left the house. The door nearly slammed shut behind them, Netley clearly as eager as his employer to see the back of them.
‘Don’t be. It’s not your fault her curls are too tight.’
Miss Lambert hid a subdued laugh behind one gloved hand and Justin was heartened by the return of her cheer. Whatever her treatment at the Rocklands’ hands, it hadn’t destroyed her spirit, or her sense of humour. It would be an interesting challenge to draw it out fully, as intriguing as the promise of her alluring curves beneath the straight dress.
* * *
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