Courting Susannah by Linda Lael Miller Page A

“Ihave a private income,” he said, and while Susannah knew he wasn’t lying, something didn’t ring true.
    She withdrew into herself a little way, feeling wary.
    John smiled reassuringly, and she remembered that she liked him, that he was her friend. “I hear they have fine lobster off the shores of Nantucket,” he said. “Do you miss such delicacies?”
    Susannah looked down at the remains of her meal, ordered for her, as custom dictated, by Mr. Hollister. Her mouth watered just to remember eating steamed lobster, bought at the pier and drenched in butter got from a neighbor down the road. “Oh, yes,” she said, wondering if she would ever see Nantucket again. She did not miss Mrs. Butterfield, but her rare walks along the beach were a bittersweet recollection. She told him about the sailboats skimming over blue seas, about the lighthouses and the sand dunes and the spiky grass.
    The remainder of the evening seemed to have wings, and soon Susannah was back in John Hollister’s buggy, being driven back to the grand but solemn house where her best friend had lived and died.
    â€œDid you know Julia?” she dared to inquire just as they reached the cobbled driveway in front of Aubrey’s mansion. Beyond were the gate, the yard, the lighted windows. “Mrs. Fairgrieve, I mean?” she added, lest her question be unclear.
    John shook his head, drawing back on the reins and setting the brake with one booted foot. “No.” He sighed and looked at Susannah squarely, though his face was in shadow beneath the brim of his hat, and she couldn’t read his expression.
    Susannah wanted to weep, thinking of Julia, and of her baby, and the man who could not admit that he’d sired the child. “But you are obviously acquainted with Mr. Fairgrieve.”
    â€œWe’ve done business together before,” John said with a moderation in his tone that made Susannah think he was speaking guardedly. “I would like to see you again, Susannah,” he told her moments later as he helped her down from the buggy. “Perhaps you might be willing to attend church with me on Sunday? We could picnic near the water afterward, if the weather allows.”
    Because she liked John, and because she knew he had more to say to her, Susannah nodded. “That would be very pleasant,” she said.
    He did not attempt to kiss her at the front door but simply tipped his hat and bowed slightly before turning away to take his leave.
    Maisie was waiting on the other side of the threshold, the baby asleep on one shoulder and Jasper entangled in her skirts like a wiry little monkey. “Mr. Fairgrieve was fit to be tied when he found you was out takin’ your dinner with that Hollister feller,” she hissed, delighted to convey the news.
    Susannah felt a frisson of satisfaction and was immediately chagrined. Aubrey was her friend’s widower, and he had not been kind to Julia. It made no difference that he was as handsome as Lucifer before the Fall, that it made her lightheaded and breathless just to stand close to him, that a glance from him could set her heart to wild fluttering. Of all the men on earth, he was the last one she could afford to love.
    â€œI don’t see why he should be upset,” she said, shrugging out of the cloak and returning it to the coat tree. “I am a grown woman, after all, and quite capable of looking out for myself.” She started to reach for Victoria, but before Maisie could hand the infant over, the study doors swung open and Aubrey towered in the chasm like an archangel come to pronounce judgment.
    â€œMay I speak with you in private for a moment, MissMcKittrick?” he asked. His jawline looked ominously hard, and there was a glitter of dark challenge in his eyes.
    â€œI’ll put the babe to bed for you,” Maisie told Susannah, and abandoned her in the entryway, just like that.
    Susannah swallowed, though her