Mrs Hampton shook her head sadly at her daughter’s flight of fancy. ‘You are very pretty, my darling, but things do not often happen that way. I dare say someone will offer for you, but he may not be to your liking.’
‘You are thinking of Squire Horton, I suppose.’ Susannah pulled a face, for the Squire was past forty, a generous kind gentleman, who had buried two wives and had a brood of boisterous children. She appreciated his qualities, but found him rather large and a little too dull for her quick mind.
She flicked her long, honey-coloured hair back out of her eyes. It was always escaping from its ribbons and curling in tendrils about her face. She presented a charming picture, for she was truly beautiful, but she seldom considered her looks, though she knew she was pretty because everyone told her so. However, it had not turned her head, and she was generally popular with both the gentlemen and the ladies she met. Unfortunately, situated as they were, she met very few gentlemen that either she or her mama considered a suitable match. ‘Well, if nothing else turns up, I may be forced to such a marriage, Mama—but it is not yet too late for something exciting to happen.’
Susannah lived in the expectation of something exciting happening. She would meet a handsome man, not necessarily a prince, of course, but rich enough to keep both her and Mama in comfort. He would sweep her up on his horse and ride off with her to Gretna Green, where they would be married and live happily ever after, preferably in an ancient castle. Failing that, perhaps a relative they had never heard of would leave them a fortune. Mama said they had no rich relatives, but perhaps there was someone somewhere who might be kind to them.
Her biscuit finished, Susannah applied her mind to the little tea party her mother had planned for friends. She changed her old gown for a favourite primrose-silk afternoon dress and brushed her hair into order, tying it back with white ribbons. A white stole draped over her arms and she was instantly transformed from the hoyden, who had been traipsing the fields to find herbs her mama might use to make lotions and seasonings, into a young lady of some considerable style and beauty.
Susannah had an English rose complexion and sea-green eyes, her mouth soft and attractive. It was the kind of mouth gentlemen found irresistible and wanted to kiss, but she had not yet been brought out into society and could not guess at what might happen if she were. She sighed as she looked at her reflection in the dressing mirror. It was true that she was not ill favoured. If only they could afford a Season in town without ruining Mama! Surely then she could make a good marriage and rescue her beloved mother from the genteel poverty in which they now lived. Susannah did not care so very much for herself that they lived in a tiny cottage, but Mama had found it hard.
With an effort she banished her dreams of romantic love and handsome gentlemen who would beg for her favours. Mama was right: these things did not often happen. She might have to marry one of the gentlemen who called on Mama with gifts of fruit and vegetables from their gardens and looked at Susannah slyly whenever they got the chance, but she would not if she could help it!
She was about to go downstairs to the parlour when her bedroom door opened abruptly and her mother swept in. Wearing a gown of grey silk, Mrs Hampton was still an attractive woman, her colouring much as her daughter’s, but she often had an air of sadness, which, her daughter noticed, seemed to have vanished for the moment. Susannah had not seen her mother this animated since Papa fell into a decline after losing all his money and died of a putrid infection some nine months earlier.
‘Mama! What has happened?’ Susannah’s heart raced with anticipation, for she sensed her mother’s excitement. ‘You have news.’
Mrs Hampton waved a sheet of quality vellum at her. ‘I have had a letter from Amelia Royston. You must remember that we met her once in Bath? She was visiting with her sister-in-law, Lady Royston. I felt so sorry for her having to live with that harpy. Her brother is a gentleman, of course, but I am not sure that I like him…’ Mrs Hampton looked pensive, for her friend had not said much about her circumstances, but she had sensed her deep unhappiness at the time. ‘Well, as you may recall, I asked her to a party and took her to a dance at the Assembly Rooms. She fell into a habit of visiting us every day, and we have kept in touch ever since through letters. I remember she was so grateful for my kindness…it was before Papa—’ She broke off with a little choke, the sadness back in her eyes. ‘Anyway, she went to live with an elderly aunt soon after that and everything has turned out most fortunately for her.’
‘Yes, I remember Miss Royston,’ Susannah said. ‘What does she say in her letter, Mama?’
‘It is like a miracle,’ Mrs Hampton said and the light came back to her face. ‘Amelia’s aunt—Lady Agatha Sawle, I met her once, but you did not know her—well, she has died and left Amelia a fortune. She did not expect it. Indeed, she had no idea that her aunt was so wealthy. She knew she was to have something, but she says she had no expectation of being left more than an independence.’
‘How wonderful for her,’ Susannah said, her lovely eyes sparkling. ‘You see, Mama, exciting things do happen. Perhaps someone will leave us something one day.’
‘Amelia is so generous,’ her mother said and dabbed at her eyes with a lace kerchief. The scent of her favourite lavender water wafted towards Susannah. ‘She has offered you a Season in town, dearest. She knows of Papa’s misfortune and she wants to help us. She will pay all our expenses and give you a dowry of five thousand pounds. Five thousand pounds, Susannah! Such a huge sum—and she makes it sound nothing! It means you have a chance of making a decent marriage, my love.’ Mrs Hampton was quite overcome. Her hand trembled as she touched Susannah’s arm. ‘I can hardly believe that anyone would do such a thing, for we are not even family. However, that may be—’ She broke off mid-sentence. ‘Do you realise what this means, dearest?’
‘A Season in town…’ Susannah stared at her, disbelief, excitement and triumph warring in her head. ‘Oh, Mama, how good Miss Royston is! But what made her think of us?’
Mrs Hampton shook her head. ‘I really cannot imagine why she thought of us. She said it was because I was kind to her at a time when she needed friends, but I think she has other reasons.’ Susannah lifted her brows in enquiry, but Mrs Hampton merely frowned, clearly preferring to keep her own counsel. ‘I cannot tell, but I think she may be lonely. Her family is not kind, though she never complains. However, one knows…’ She looked thoughtful. ‘To give us so much is extremely generous, Susannah. I know one should not take charity, and I should not normally do so, but it is just what I have prayed for, my love. You deserve your chance and, if we are lucky, we may be able to repay Amelia for her kindness one day. Think of it, my love. You will meet everyone—Amelia is well connected and highly thought of in society. If you are fortunate…who knows what might happen!’
Susannah nodded, her face thoughtful as she looked at her mother. Some of the euphoria faded as she realised that Mama was expecting her to make a brilliant marriage and solve all their problems. She would be happy if that happened, of course, but she could not easily relinquish all her dreams of romance. She wanted to oblige Mama, but she also wanted to be swept off her feet, to fall madly in love. For some reason the picture of the outraged gentleman who had almost run her down flashed into her mind, though she could not think why—he had been abominably rude!
However, her overwhelming feeling was one of pleasure at the thought of her Season in town. It was what she had longed for, hoped for these past months since Papa died. If she were fortunate she would fall in love with a suitable gentleman, one who made her heart beat much faster, but who was also acceptable to Mama. Someone who might look a little like the rude gentleman she had met in the lane, but who was far more romantic!
‘I do not understand why Miss Royston is being so very kind to us,’ Mrs Hampton was saying. ‘But I shall write at once and tell her we are delighted to accept her generous invitation. She has asked us to join her at her house near Huntingdon next week so that we may all get to know one another in comfort. Then