How was Susanna going to tell her father? It was heartbreaking enough seeing those beautiful trees lying on the ground, but it would be nothing compared to his reaction. He'd loved his wife and after her death, he'd cared for the trees while Susanna lived elsewhere. They were a living reminder of her mother's nurturing soul.
Gone.
Susanna wondered if she would ever stop crying, and if she did, would the ache in her heart end too? She doubted it.
"Here, m'lady, take this," said Bessie, passing a cup to Susanna.
Susanna took it between both hands. The warmth thawed her numb fingers and the strong spicy aroma cleared her head a little. She sipped and the mulled wine burned as it went down. Cook had made it stronger than usual and it banished her tears but not the sorrow.
"Thank you," she said to the three anxious faces. "I'll be all right. Don't worry about me."
"But we do worry," Bessie said, sitting beside her.
"Them poor lovely trees," Cook said on a sigh.
"We've still got two," Hendricks said, falsely cheerful.
"Aye, there'll be enough oranges on two trees to fill up some of the marmalade jars."
Some but not many. Susanna gave them a weak smile. "Thank you. All of you."
She listened as the servants prepared dinner and chattered about plans for the garden. She appreciated their attempts to lift her spirits, but it was only when Orlando entered the kitchen that she realized she hadn't been paying attention and had no idea how much time had passed.
"Monk is taking the bodies to Cowdrey Farm," he said from the doorway. "And Lynden returned to the Hall."
"Thank you."
"The rushes in your great hall will need changing."
"We'll do it," Bessie said quickly. When neither of the other servants moved, she grabbed the hand of each and dragged them out.
"Me too?" Cook asked, brandishing her wooden spoon.
"Aye, you too."
Orlando slid onto the bench seat beside Susanna and took the cup from her. He set it down on the table then grasped both her hands in his. "Are you all right?"
She nodded. "A little shaken. Thank you, Orlando. You saved my life. Margaret would have..." She bit her wobbly lip. There would be no more tears. Not over Margaret or Walter.
He squeezed her hands and kissed the knuckles. His eyelids fluttered closed and he breathed deeply. "Thank God you're all right," he murmured. "I couldn't bear it—"
"Don't." She withdrew her hands. Listening to his words would undo her again, and she had to stay strong for what came next. "When are you leaving?"
The question seemed to startle him. He blinked rapidly. "Soon. But I will return."
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to help you plant new trees." He looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "First things first. I'm going to London, and I'm taking all of your marmalades and succades with me. I'm sure Lynden can lend me a cart for the journey."
Now she really was dazed. "I don't understand."
"I'm going to find shopkeepers to stock them. Not just this batch, but any future harvests too. Correspondence will take too long. It'll be easier to visit them in person. Indeed, I have one fellow in mind. His customers include maids from Whitehall Palace. Succades and marmalades made from exotic fruits are precisely what the queen and her ladies demand. All of the nobility will be serving your produce to their guests soon enough."
"You know a great deal about London ladies."
"I've studied their buying habits long enough." He smiled and her heart cracked. He was so handsome. So kind.
And such a good liar.
What if he took her products and never returned? What if he sold them and didn't bring back her money? It felt traitorous to think such a thing, yet she couldn't help it. The man had proved himself worthy when it came to saving her life, but as to trusting him...no.
"I can't let you do it, Orlando."
"Why not?"
"I...I just can't."
He shook his head, dismissing her. "Listen. I know you want to do everything on your own, but sometimes you have to let others help."
"I cannot accept any more help from you."
He stared at her for a long time then finally looked down at the bench between them. He blew out a breath, then another. "Give me a sample then. A few jars of each. I promise you I'll find someone to stock the rest. Until we sell all of it, you can live off my money. Hughe paid well, and I've had nothing to spend it on all these years. I sent it to my brother with instruction for him to use it as he saw fit. There may be some left, or there may not be." He shrugged as if it didn't matter.
"You're offering it to me? Good lord, no! I don't want it. You may need it if Hughe throws you out of the Guild."
"He already has."
"Then I certainly cannot accept your money now."
"You can and you will. Susanna, you need it to rebuild this place. The money from the oranges will not be enough, especially as next year's productivity will be down severely with the loss of the trees. It'll be hardly enough for you to live off, let alone fix what needs fixing."
"Orlando, stop it! Stop this at once." She rose and paced the kitchen. "I cannot accept your money, or your help. I am not your responsibility, nor is Stoneleigh." She put up her hands when he began to speak. "I'm very sorry you're not working for Hughe anymore, but you must find work elsewhere. Not here. I can't pay you and I don't think your presence is...in either of our best interests. Not anymore." There. She'd said it. It was a weight off her mind.
So why did she feel like her heart had been gouged out, leaving behind a hollow cavity?
Tears stung her eyes again and she turned to go. Orlando caught her and swung her around. The blue of his eyes flashed bright and fierce with an intensity she'd never seen before. "Would it make any difference if we were married?"
Everything went still. The blood froze in her veins and her heart ceased to tick. "Is that a proposal?" she whispered.
His smile was lopsided and devilish. "Yes."
"But..." She shook her head, tried to clear it. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. I want to stay here, with you. I've had enough of killing. Stoneleigh has felt more like a home in this last week than anywhere. Because you're here, Susanna, and I want to be with you." He cupped her face and she almost wept again.
"Orlando..." She fought the tears but one escaped. He wiped it away with his thumb. "Orlando, I can't have children."
"I know. And I don't care."
"You say that now..." She shook her head and moved out of his reach. It wasn't about the children, not really.
"Why not let me decide that for myself?" There was no smile in his voice but she didn't look up. She couldn't face him.
"Please," she whispered, turning away. She didn't want him to see her tears. There was only so much of his kindness she could take and remain strong. "We are not getting married, Orlando. Not now and not when you return."
"Susanna?" His low, rumbling voice came from close behind her. He said nothing else but she could hear his hard breathing, feel him tense as he waited.
"I have made terrible mistakes in the past," she said, squeezing everything within her to hold in the tears and keep herself from shattering. "All of them were because I listened to my heart and not my head. I ignored the warning signs and ignored common sense. I won't make that mistake again. Not with a man who is a liar."
He didn't answer for a long time and she almost turned around, even though she knew he was still there. She could feel his presence as powerfully as if he were in her arms.
"I am not like them," he finally said. "I've lied to you, yes, but never with the intent of hurting you. Not after I...got to know you."
She turned around because what she had to say must be said to his face, not with her back turned like a coward. "How can I be sure, Orlando? How do I know you're not lying now and will run off with my orange products but not return with the money? How do I know you do not want Stoneleigh for yourself, or you simp
ly want to possess me like John and Phillip did? How do I know you wouldn't change after we wed, and become a different man, the man you've buried underneath all that charm? How can I convince my head as well as my heart?" She was rambling but didn't care. The words spewed out of her and she couldn't have stopped them even if she'd wanted to.
"You have to trust me."
"Why should I when you've given me no cause?"
"I have, Susanna. I have."
She braced herself against the tide of emotion welling inside her like a flooded river. "No, Orlando, I can't trust you because you're lying again. You don't want to wed me."
"I do!"
She shook her head. "I think your offer was made as an afterthought, when I said I cannot accept your money or your help."
He said nothing, and it wasn't until that moment that she knew for certain she was right. He didn't want to marry her, he merely felt obligated. "I'm going to help you rebuild, Susanna. I will return in the spring. I promise you that. I care for you deeply. I won't turn my back on you now."
She drew in a shuddering breath. Dared herself to believe. She wanted to believe him. He'd done so much for her already. His help in the garden had been invaluable and his dealings with Jeffrey, Walter and Monk had always been done with her best interests at heart. Why would he do all that only to steal from her now? Why would he make promises he didn't plan on keeping?
"Very well," she said. "You may take all of my marmalades and succades with you."
He let out a breath. "You won't regret it, Susanna." He clasped her shoulders, the gentle pressure reassuring, easing some of the tension within her. "And I will return in the spring with your money. That is my promise to you." He let go of her and walked out of the kitchen.
She sat back down on the bench seat, buried her face in her hands and tried not to hope too hard. The money would be a welcome relief, but not as much as Orlando's return. She didn't think she could bear not being with him again.