Chapter 18

CHAPTER18

For a minute, Susanna was convinced her eyes must have been deceiving her. It didn’t make sense for Donald to be this shadow that had been following her. Quiet mannered and gentle Donald was striding forward through the darkness with so much anger in his face he was unrecognizable.

“Has something happened?” Susanna jumped down from her saddle as she spoke. Eagerly, she wrapped the reins of the mare around one of the stone balustrades that made up the front porch of the house and turned her attention on Donald. “What is wrong, my friend?” She reached out toward him, only to find he grasped hold of her wrist. “Ow, Donald… that hurts.”

“You dare to ask me what is wrong?” Donald seethed in a whisper. The gentle man she knew was no longer the man before her.

This Donald is a new man entirely.

“Whatever has happened, calm yourself.” Susanna tried to placate him, lifting her other hand and holding it out toward him, the palm turned upward. His grip on her other wrist had become rather too tight to the point she was grimacing in pain. “You hardly need to take it out on my wrist.” He released it at once. “Ow,” she murmured again and shook out the hand, trying to ease the soreness in her wrist.

Donald paced. He moved away from her then turned back, his manner somewhat frantic. His hair was mad too as if he had been running his hands through it, wildly, and his tailcoat was unbuttoned.

“Donald, am I to guess why you are here in the middle of the night acting quite mad? I am your friend. At least tell me what is wrong so I may comfort you.”

“How blind you think I am, Susanna.” The words were muttered along with a curse as Donald turned back to face her.

Susanna froze, wondering where he was going with these words.

Blind to what? What does he mean?

Susanna looked at the horse beside her and the drive down which she had ridden.

Oh… does he know where I have been? Has he truly been following me all the way?

He stepped toward her, his voice a seething whisper, bending in such a way that she had to veer back to keep distance between them.

“You have compromised yourself.” His words were clear, and one was emphasized more than the rest with evident disgust.

“Donald, it is not how it seems.”

“Do not treat me as though I am the dumb one here.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You are the one who has made an error in judgement and a serious one at that.” He glanced toward the windows of the house as he spoke, clearly wary of waking people inside, for he still spoke in this harried whisper. “I have followed you. These last couple of nights, I know exactly where you have been, Susanna.”

Donald was always the shadow.

Susanna didn’t know whether to be relieved that the shadowy figure who had entered her dreams was just Donald or all the more disgusted. It showed the man she had thought him to be wasn’t here after all.

“You followed me?” she asked, her tone somewhat wild. “Why would you do that?”

“Why do you think!?” He stepped toward her, his whisper growing so harsh the words came out like the hiss of a snake. Susanna backed up, startled by the strength in Donald’s voice. She ended up colliding with the stone balustrade behind her and leaning there for support. “You gave the Duke of Belbridge such attention, I was worried. Of course, I was. You heeded no warning on what kind of man he was, and as your friend, I had to make sure nothing improper was happening.”

Susanna angled her face away. Had it been daylight, she knew the bright blush on her cheeks would have been visible. Hopefully, the darkness hid it a little.

Nothing had felt improper about what we shared.

She thought of everything that had passed that night between her and Anthony. It had felt natural, as easy as breathing, to be together in such a way. So much so that she would have happily ridden all the way back toward him, just to wake up by his side again.

“I did nothing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong!?” Donald spluttered, stepping so close to Susanna that she leaned back over the balustrade, trying to increase the distance between them once again. “For fear our conversation is going round in circles here, let me repeat what I said earlier. Do you think I am blind, dumb, or both? No lady sneaks into a gentleman’s house to be proper, do they?”

Susanna stepped away from Donald, pushing off the balustrade. Her shoulder collided with his as she passed. It only seemed to make Donald angrier, for he reached out for her wrist as she passed and jerked her back toward him.

“Ow, Donald, what are you doing?”

“Shh!” he said frantically, his gaze lifting to the dark windows of the house another time. Susanna knew it was too early for any of the staff to rise yet. It would be some time before anyone would think to look out of a window. “The Duke of Belbridge has compromised you, Susanna. Now something must be done about it.”

“Done? What must be done?” She lifted her other hand, trying to pry his fingers off her wrist, but his grip was too tight. It made her wince at the burn he was causing across her skin. “Nothing is to be done.”

“Oh, and how long will it be before you carry the Duke’s child out of wedlock?” His hissed insinuation made her fall still, wondering exactly how much Donald had seen.

Did he try to peer through the curtains? Oh my god! If he did…

She tried to back up more, but he merely followed her, that grip still tight.

“He is making you into his mistress. You will be a kept woman.”

“It is not like that,” Susanna tried to explain, feeling somewhat tearful all of a sudden. She tried to hold back those tears, but a lump was growing in her throat.

I love him.

The words were on the tip of Susanna’s tongue, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to utter them. After all, Anthony had never said them back.

“He… He invited me to see his mother,” Susanna said, finding some hope to hold onto. “Would he introduce me to the Dowager Duchess if he intended to make me his mistress, Donald? No, of course he wouldn’t.”

“And how well did that meeting go?” Donald asked. When Susanna didn’t answer, it seemed to be enough for him. He jerked her forward, the grip he had on her wrist tightening all the more. She fell into him and had to try to push him away with her other hand.

“Donald, let me go.”

“No. We must think. We must be quick. If we are to save you from ruin, Susanna, then something must be done now. This very day.”

“What are you talking about?” Susanna shook her head back and forth, fearing his words.

“I mean marriage.” Donald nodded firmly as if the answer was plain. “There is only one way to save a ruined woman –”

“I am not ruined!” Despite Susanna’s interruption, Donald went on, as if she hadn’t spoken at all.

“That is for her to marry. Soon, fast, to someone who would not treat her so.” He moved away, jerking Susanna behind him so much that her arm wrenched at a painful angle.

“Ow!” she complained again.

“Shh,” he insisted. “We must be quiet if we are to get away from here and not wake anyone in your house.”

“Donald, you are making no sense.” Susanna dug her heels into the gravel driveway, stopping their momentum. The sudden halt made them both sway together, nearly falling over. She backed up from him until their connected arms were extended. “I am not going anywhere with you, and I am certainly not intending to marry.”

“You will. You must.” Donald spoke plainly as if they were discussing the nature of the weather, not a matter of marriage. “If we leave now, we can be at Gretna Green by tomorrow morning.”

“Gretna Green!” Susanna spluttered as he jerked her forward once again.

“Yes. We will be married there before the Duke can ruin you any further.”

“No. No!” Yet Susanna’s words seemed to go unheard. She tried to stop Donald from drawing her forward any further, but he was too strong, and she was forced down the driveway.

I cannot marry him. No… no! This was not the way things were supposed to go.

Susanna thought of only Anthony, and the life she could have with him. She knew without a doubt that he was the one she wished to marry, not Donald. The thought of marrying Donald, especially the man he was proving himself to be right now, left her cold and a little nauseous.

“I will not marry you, Donald.” Susanna’s words brought him to a stop. He turned to face her in the moonlight, his face a ghostly and sickly pale. He glared at her, stepping forward in such a way that despite Susanna’s tall height, she felt very short beside him.

“You must. There is no choice in the matter now. For the sake of your reputation, you will marry me, Susanna. The rest… well, that will come in time.” He jerked her forward.

“The rest? What rest?” Susanna pulled against the hold on her arm but to little effect. At the end of the drive, she saw a horse move into view, yet this horse was not alone. There was a second one beside it and a carriage tacked up to the harnesses.

Oh, God’s wounds! He has planned this all and has brought a carriage with him ready to leave!

She realized in horror that he must have been planning it after the first night he had seen her go to Anthony’s. With the second night, he wasn’t going to leave it much longer.

“Get in the carriage, Susanna.”

“No, I won’t!” She looked back to the house, hurrying for what options to take to escape this mess. “I will scream, Donald. You put me in that carriage, and I will scream, I swear it. People will come running.” The two of them froze in a tussle.

Susanna had a foot against the carriage side, trying to stop herself from being pushed in, and Donald was standing behind her, trying to wrestle her in. They both breathed heavily, still in this odd position.

“You wouldn’t scream,” he whispered in her ear. Susanna saw the way the driver and the footman looked away, avoiding eye contact. Clearly, they didn’t want to admit their part in this awful affair.

“I would!” Susanna muttered angrily.

“No, you won’t.” Donald reached into a pocket and pulled out something. The flick of metal made Susanna look down to see a penknife.

Her body turned cold, and her lips shook to see that blade.

No. The Donald I know is gentle. He would not pull a penknife on me.

Donald did not lift the knife toward her, but the threat was there, implicit, if not audibly made.

“No screaming now, Susanna. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” she muttered, feeling a lump form in her throat again, the tears seconds away. “Wait…”

“Wait what? We must be going!”

“Surely you would not want me to marry you in this same gown? In the same gown I wore to see Anthony?”

“The Duke! Call him the Duke,” Donald hissed in her ear.

“Then let me get another gown? I will be but a few minutes.” She glanced back to the house, wondering if her desperate plea would work.

One of Donald’s hands passed over the skirt of her gown. She felt rather disgusted by the way he gripped at the skirt.

“He has touched you in this,” he said angrily in her ear. “Yes. You will need a new gown.” Jerking her away from the carriage, Susanna found herself dragged back toward the house. “No screaming, Susanna. Remember that,” he warned, even as he put the penknife back in his pocket.

Susanna nodded, knowing she could not risk it. She didn’t want to believe Donald was capable of hurting her, but the grip he had on her wrist made her not want to risk it.

Together, they crept into the house through a side door that Peggy had left open for Susanna’s return. Creeping toward Susanna’s room, Donald constantly checked the corridors, clearly wary of being caught. At her chamber, he stood by the door, keeping watch as Susanna stepped into the room.

“Be quick,” he ordered.

Susanna nodded and reached for a small bag. Hurriedly, she placed a couple of gowns inside then she made an appearance of going to her garderobe next door. Inside was her toilette box. Here, Donald couldn’t see her, neither could he see that she had taken in paper and a quill with ink.

Resting on the windowsill, she used the moonlight to write a hurried note to Peggy. She could not risk going to wake someone up in the house, for Donald would see, nor could she risk screaming now, not with that penknife in his pocket.

My best bet is to leave a message to be found.

Once the note was done, she returned to her chamber, carrying the toilette box and hiding the note behind it.

“Hurry!” Donald pleaded from the doorway. Once he looked away into the corridor once again, Susanna took her chance. She lowered the note onto the pillow where it would easily be found then placed her toilette box in her bag.

“I am done,” she said, her voice rather weak as she went to meet Donald in the doorway.

“Good.” He took hold of her wrist once again and dragged her through the corridor.

As they passed Agnes’ room, Susanna felt the tears threaten once more though on this occasion, she couldn’t stop them. Her eyes stung, and the tears began to trickle down her cheeks. She longed to call out to Agnes, to beg for her help, but she feared Donald would hurt Agnes as well as her.

Oh, I hope Peggy finds that note! And fast!

Outside, Susanna was pressed toward the carriage at the end of the driveway. When she put up a fuss, Donald silently threatened her by placing his hand back in his pocket, alluding to the hidden penknife. She quickly gave up and stepped in the carriage, falling in with her bag on her lap. Donald stepped up beside her and thumped the side of the carriage, ordering it on before turning to face her.

The tears were coming fast and heavy with one rolling after the other, cascading down her cheeks until they dripped off her chin and landed on the bag in her grasp.

“Susanna, why are you crying?” Donald’s question baffled her. She turned to look at him, wondering how mad he was not to realize.

“Why do you think?” she asked, her voice just a whisper. When he didn’t answer but merely stared at her with confusion, she asked another question. “Why are you really doing this, Donald?”