A Rumored Engagement. Lily George

of course not. I’m enjoying the bachelor life whilst I can.” Paul fell silent for a rare moment, a moody expression crossing his face as he settled into a leather chair. Perhaps he’d overstepped his teasing with Paul—perhaps Paul was still really upset about Ruth Barclay. But no, in a blink the expression had vanished, and Paul leaned forward, an incorrigible gleam in his eye. “Though, I must say, Miss Siddons does rather make a fellow want to change his mind.”

      Paul was never going to stop nattering on about Susannah. He thought her pretty and would likely try to court her if Daniel didn’t put a stop to the silliness. He eyed his friend as Paul settled back against the cushion. Could he be trusted with a secret?

      “You can’t have Susannah Siddons,” he replied evenly. “She’s already spoken for.” There, perhaps that would be enough to throw Paul off the scent.

      “Really? How fantastic. I shall have to nose about until I find the fellow. Of course, I could always court one of her sisters. They’re quite tolerable, too.”

      Nose about? Paul really was like a hound on the trail. There was nothing for it but to confess the truth to his friend. Only then would the matter cease to worry them both.

      “I’m the fellow. Congratulate me, Paul. Susannah Siddons has been my betrothed for these past three years.”

      Chapter Three

      “Indeed?” Paul quirked an eyebrow with amusement. “If it’s true, then why haven’t you married? And why isn’t she here with you, in Goodwin Hall? Why is she staying in a hovel?”

      “’Twas meant as a way to keep her uncle Arthur from forcing her into a marriage she didn’t want. We concocted the plan.” Daniel’s fists clenched at the memory. “Her aunt was browbeating her into marrying some fat, doddering fool of a country squire. And the blackguard spent all their money. She went from being a gentleman’s daughter to an apprentice milliner. Her family left Tansley when she was still a young lass. And her parents died soon after. So within a couple of years after their passing, her life turned upside down.” He heaved a deep sigh.

      “And you never married?” Paul shrugged his shoulders. “What happened that kept you apart?”

      “We never had a formal plan.” There was no excusing it, or even explaining it. “I never received a letter from her, so I assumed she had found another way out. And I was enjoying my life on the sea. It was a passion of mine.”

      “You’ll forgive me for saying so, but you were passionate about the wrong thing entirely,” Paul replied in a tone so dry that Daniel winced. “So, if she’s not your fiancée in truth, then she must be fair game.”

      “She’s not one of your light skirts, Paul. She may have to work for a living, but she’s not what I will allow you to consider fair game.” He stalked over to the decanters and began pouring out the rich amber liquid.

      Paul gave a short bark of laughter. “I don’t think of every woman in that way.”

      Daniel slanted his gaze over at his friend as he handed him his drink. “Don’t you, old fellow?”

      “I may have been unhappy in love, but I declare that a lady like Susannah could make a chap believe in the theory of marriage again. Those magnificent eyes...that Titian hair...”

      “Enough.” He didn’t appreciate Paul cataloging Susy’s physical attributes. He couldn’t suppress the proprietary feeling that arose from deep within. Whether she admitted to it or not, he couldn’t stop thinking of her as his fiancée. And there needed to be a sense of propriety about that fact. “Anything more about her beauty and I’ll be hard pressed not to plant you a facer.”

      “Fine, fine. Truce, and all that.” Paul held his palms in the air in supplication. “I shan’t say another word.” The secretive, absorbed expression on his friend’s face showed that, though he would refrain from speaking about Susannah, he’d not cease in thinking about her. “What do you intend to do now?”

      “When I spoke to Susannah this morning, I alluded to our problem,” he admitted. “But she indicated that she had no interest in renewing even my friendship, to say nothing of our engagement. She’s proud, Paul. Very proud. I have to step carefully if I am to keep from offending her.”

      “How did you broach the subject?” Paul took a long sip of his scotch with nary a shudder.

      “Well, I...uh...” How embarrassing to rehash the disastrous conversation. Better to keep it short. “That she could come to tea here at the Hall.”

      Paul shook his head gravely, rolling his eyes. “I am sure she leaped at the opportunity,” he mocked, his voice dripping sarcasm.

      Daniel shrugged, concealing his annoyance at Paul’s tone. “What? I couldn’t very well profess my undying love for her. She’s got brains and is quite acute, Paul. She’d know it was a lie. I’m not going to insult her intelligence.”

      “And so, instead, you invited her to a tea party?” Paul set aside his empty glass and made an impatient movement with his hands. “I quite understand that you couldn’t very well sweep her into your arms. But what of romance? Surely you should woo the lady a bit first.”

      “I wouldn’t even know how to start. I don’t love her, you know.” Daniel rubbed a weary hand over his brow. How extraordinary to court one’s own fiancée. Most fellows went about it the other way around. “And I have no knowledge of happy marriages. Or of romance.”

      “Plenty of marriages have been built on less.” Paul narrowed his eyes, predatory as a panther. “What do you want from her, anyway?”

      “I want to help. When I went to sea, old man, I had much to keep me occupied. I had no idea where Susannah had gone, or what happened to her. I never got any letters from her, you see. So I just—” He broke off a moment, fumbling to find the right words. “I never forgot her. I just let the matter go. As I have with everything else in this blighted village.”

      “I know your family life was rather awful.” Paul stood and helped himself to another tumbler of scotch. “I have been unhappy in love, but at least I grew up in a loving home. In fact—if you want my advice—don’t think of her in terms of love. Don’t seize control of anything. Simply be kind to her. It never hurts to have a pretty gel’s favor, you know.”

      “Being friends. That sounds rather nice.” He cleared his throat and began anew. “How should I start?”

      “Remember what she likes. Poetry, flowers and whatnot. Women like jewels, too, but that could be considered too forward if your intentions are honorable.” Paul settled back in his chair. “And if they aren’t, you certainly don’t need my advice for that.”

      Daniel scowled at Paul. “Of course my intentions are honorable.”

      Befriending Susannah Siddons would be no ordinary task. She wasn’t like other women, not even when she was a slip of a girl. She was sharp and bright and had a disconcerting habit of laughing at you when she thought you weren’t being sincere. So, giving her jewels and silks would be quite out of the question. He’d have to be more original than that.

      “They’re most dreadfully poor, you know. From a gentleman’s daughter, she’s gone into trade,” he muttered. “Rather painful to see that. Perhaps I could help. When I saw her this morning, she was buying food.”

      “That’s easy enough to handle. Send her a hamper. Load it with every delicious morsel you can think of.” Paul waved his hands as though the problem had been decisively solved.

      “A good idea.” He’d ask Cook to put something together. Susannah would have something to eat. And maybe she would think kindly on him. And they could be friends.

      Life wouldn’t seem so bleak then.

      “Hear, hear. Go on, then. Ring the bell. And while you’re ordering the Siddons dinner, make sure to ask for something for us, too? I vow, I am feeling