The Heiress - Lynsay Sands [89]
Swallowing, Suzette placed a hand over her stomach, wondering if his seed had taken root. Was she carrying his child? Part of her hoped dearly that she was, that she would keep and have a reminder of their time together for the rest of their days in the guise of a Daniel Junior. Another part of her, though, was horrified at the thought, knowing that looking on that child would mean fresh pain every day as well.
Sighing, Suzette paused to lean against a tree and closed her eyes, wishing things had been different. Wishing he’d love her. Wishing she’d never met him. She could have happily gone an entire lifetime without knowing this pain . . . even if it meant forgoing the happy moments and pleasure that had preceded it.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
Suzette glanced around. A man stood, hesitating a few feet away, looking uncertain as to whether to continue on his way or stop. It was the fellow who had approached as she’d watched Richard and Robert ride off. The one who had asked, “Suzette, isn’t it?” She had thought he looked vaguely familiar then. Suzette felt sure she should know him, but couldn’t be bothered to work it out any more now than she had been then.
“You’re crying,” he said, concern filling his expression as he moved forward.
Suzette raised a hand to her face, surprised to find it wet. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying again, but suspected she would do a lot more of it in the coming weeks as she grieved her loss. Realizing the man was coming to stand before her, she turned to move away, but he caught her arm.
“Please, what’s wrong? Maybe I can help,” he said softly, drawing her to a halt.
“Nothing,” Suzette murmured, keeping her face turned away. “Please, don’t trouble yourself. I am fine.”
“Now what kind of gentleman would abandon a lady crying alone in the woods?” he chided, retrieving a handkerchief and turning her so that he could dab at her face and mop up the tears. “There, that’s better.”
“Thank you,” Suzette murmured as he put the handkerchief away.
He nodded, and then glanced around before looking back and saying solemnly, “You really shouldn’t be out here by yourself, you know. This close to the border between England and Scotland there is more crime than elsewhere and a young lady should never be unescorted in the area.”
Suzette peered at the trees surrounding them. It looked peaceful enough. On the other hand, there could also be a dozen bandits and highwaymen hiding behind the surrounding trees and she would not know it until they leapt out at her.
“Come, I shall walk with you,” he decided, taking her arm and urging her gently along the path. “There is a lovely little waterfall just a little further on. Perhaps we could sit there. I always find water soothing to my troubles, though I’m not sure why. But it has been that way since I was a small boy. Do you like water?”
Suzette mumbled a noncommittal reply. At that moment she wasn’t sure what she liked or disliked, or if she liked much of anything at all. Mostly she just wanted to go back to her room at the inn and curl up in a ball on the bed and cry herself back to sleep. She didn’t know why she hadn’t just sent Lisa from the room and done that earlier, rather than coming outside.
“London is nice with its entertainments, but there is just nothing to compare to Mother Nature’s artistry in the country, don’t you think?” the man continued, chattering soothingly. “The fresh air, the birdsong, the rustle of the breeze through the trees . . . I always feel refreshed after a visit to the country. Ah, here we are. Isn’t it lovely?”
Suzette saw that they’d moved off the path to the edge of a small pond with a waterfall pouring fresh