only he could feel that way about Goodwin Hall and all it represented. But it remained a prison, reminding him of what a shambles his life had been and become, beneath his swagger.
Alone at last, he allowed his mind to drift toward Susannah. Her auburn hair was as lovely as ever. He’d caught his breath when he saw the length of it tumble from beneath her bonnet. And those eyes—the sea had that same caste when a storm was brewing. She was as lovely as the day he’d become engaged to her. How long ago was that? Three years now?
She’d asked for his help once, and he’d promised her all he could offer—his name. They were no longer children then, and yet at that age, time seemed infinite, unending. There was no definite promise between them, just an agreement that she would marry him when he returned. And then he ran away to sea, to follow his dream. Together, they’d given each other the most precious gift they could think of at that time. Freedom. For Susannah, that meant freedom from her tyrannical uncle. And for him, it meant the freedom to forget his familial duties and run away from his dismal past.
The gift they’d given each other had proved hollow over the years. Here he was, back in Tansley, trying to ignore a home he hated. And here Susannah was, toiling away at building a poky little shop. Well, there was no repairing his own life, or changing his own wretched fate. But he could maybe make life easier for Susannah.
He clenched his jaw. As a matter of fact, he would find a way to help Susannah Siddons.
She was, after all, his betrothed. ’Twas the least a fiancé could do.
Chapter Two
Susannah’s new building, which the solicitor had described in such glowing terms, was not much better on the inside than on the outside. The three sisters had slept in the upstairs quarters, squeezed together on the humble mattresses. Susannah awoke with a stiff neck and sharp hunger pains gnawing at her belly. ’Twas time to assume control of her pitiful situation, no matter how difficult it was.
Careful not to disturb Nan and Becky, who still slept, she crept into her serviceable lilac gown and her sturdy boots. Then she descended the back staircase and struck out for the shops at the other end of the main road. Surely there was something to eat in one of the shops. She was famished.
The street was empty, and a hush had settled over the dewy moor-grass. Even her footsteps on the gravel path were silent, for the road was also damp with dew. She paused a moment, gazing up at the pale sun as it climbed over the rolling hills. Tansley was such a beautiful place. Was it this wild and picturesque when she was a girl here? If it was, she’d been too unobservant to note. They’d moved to Matlock when she was fifteen, and it had become home to her, not Tansley Village.
She turned and scanned the cluster of shops before her. A boot maker, a dry-goods store—a bakery. Oh, how lovely—a bakery. She darted forward and opened the door, causing the bell to swing merrily. She breathed deeply of the scents of flour and yeast. She hadn’t eaten a bite since luncheon yesterday. Hungrily, she devoured the case of sweets and breads with her eyes until a plump, rosy-cheeked woman with graying hair stepped up to the counter.
“Well, then? And what can I get for you today?” She smiled and dusted her hands on her apron, sending clouds of flour dust into the air.
“Oh, I’d love one of everything. It all looks so delicious.” Scones...muffins...biscuits... She heaved a sigh. “But my slender purse must dictate my purchase. So I shall take a loaf of the cinnamon bread and three of the scones, if you please.”
The baker chuckled and tucked the sweets into brown-paper wrapping, tying the packages with a bit of string. “Here, try this marble cake. I made it this morning and I cannot tell if it’s any good. You’d be doing me a favor if you gave your honest opinion.”
Was this charity? She shouldn’t have mentioned her lack of funds. She didn’t want to beg for food, but...the kindly baker pressed the warm slice into her outstretched hand. At this point, it would be beyond rude if she said no. So she took a small bite. Oh...it was delightful—chocolate and vanilla swirled together. She finished the rest in two large bites.
The baker laughed. “I suppose it passes your test.”
Susannah nodded, wiping the crumbs from her gloves. “By far the best I’ve had anywhere.”
The baker nodded. “Good to hear that I have most of the kingdom beat.” She handed the parcels over to Susannah. “Are you new to the village? You look a little familiar.”
“My sisters and I bought the building down on the corner. I’m setting up shop as a milliner. But my family was here for a while before that. We’ve just moved back from Matlock Bath.”
“Three girls on their own? That’s worthy of applause. When I started this bake shop, I was only sixteen. I’d lost my mama and papa within a year of each other and had to support my brothers.” She extended her hand, grasping Susannah’s in a warm grip. “My name’s Bess. So happy to welcome you back to Tansley.”
“Thank you, Bess. My name is Susannah—Susannah Siddons.” It had been years since they’d lived here, of course, but still—perhaps the name would ring a bell.
“Siddons? I thought you looked familiar. You must be part of that Siddons family that used to live here. A gentleman and his wife.” The baker tilted her head, drawing her brows together. “Your mama and papa?”
“Yes. We moved away five years ago.” She hugged the brown-paper parcels against her chest.
Bess nodded, the confused look still clouding her eyes. Susannah took a deep inward breath. That was enough reminiscing and chatting for the moment. No need to explain why the gentleman’s daughter had returned home to work for her living. Another moment and she would be howling her woes onto Bess’s ample floury chest. “I had better be going. My sisters are as hungry as I am, I’m sure.”
“Well, come again anytime. You’re as welcome to this village as sunshine and rain. We need a good milliner. I’ve been making my own hats for years, and they look like a burlap bag tied with twine.” If Bess was still puzzling through the mystery of the Siddons family downfall, she had the grace to hide it with a brisk nod.
Susannah managed her first genuine smile since their arrival. “Thank you. I shall look to you as my first customer.” She waved and exited the shop. She made it through her second encounter in the village, and this time she hadn’t made a fool of herself. In fact, she might have made a friend. She certainly made a customer. Funny how a slice of marble cake and a simple conversation could make everything seem warmer...less bleak, at any rate.
She tucked her chin down, fighting happy tears. Maybe everything would work out, after all. One could hope, anyway.
“Susannah.” A tall form stood before her on the path, blotting out the sunlight. “Fancy meeting you here.”
She glanced up at Daniel Hale as he stood before her, his smile as mischievous as ever, emanating power and self-assurance. Did he ever have a moment’s doubt? Did he ever see merely the sober side of any situation? ’Twas unlikely. As long as she’d known him, he’d been as brazen and carefree as a wild creature. That’s why she’d come to him so long ago when she needed help, for he always found a way to escape any scrapes of his own making. “Of course.”
He took her parcels and offered her his arm. “Been to Bess’s? I can tell just by the aroma. The cinnamon bread she makes is a poem. You made an excellent choice.”
