Susana Bigglesworth finally gets her Happy-Ever-After with Blaise Arquette

“So, tell me the reason for this meeting,” began Susana as they all gathered around the fire in the small drawing room. “Any suitors in tow? Anyone deathly ill? I did wonder about it, you know, when I received your letter, Patience.”

She had unpacked her satchel in Doro’s (who mostly resided at the Hampton Hotel in Harrogate where she worked) and Josefina’s room, had a bit of a wash, and snacked on a plate of bread and cheese and tea prepared by their housekeeper, the loyal Mrs. Crewe.

“Oh dear!” cried her stepmother. “I didn’t mean to worry you, Susana. I made sure to post your letter early, as you were so far away.”

“I suspected as much,” Susana said easily. “And it gave me time to make arrangements for my absence.” She pushed away a twinge of regret for those she left behind. One person in particular. Who would be leaving himself on the morrow.

“I’m glad you are doing so well there,” said her stepmother with a satisfied sigh. “But I could have given you a hint of this meeting’s purpose to prevent you from unnecessary worry.”

“We’ve had no hint either,” protested Josefina, who at nineteen filled the median position between the older and the younger sisters. The latter group echoed her objection. “Why all the secrecy?” “Are we getting a stepfather?” “Tell us now, Mother!”

“Now that’s a novelty,” commented Barbara, who predated Susana by two years. “We’ve had four stepmothers (some of us), but never even one stepfather. Do tell us, Stepmother Number Five.”

Patience rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. I shan’t marry again. You girls are my family now, and I can’t conceive of any man taking on a woman with ten children.”

“You’re young yet, Patience. Same age as Doro and younger than Barbara, Susana, and me,” disputed Bess. “We shan’t be on your hands forever.”

“Certainly not.” “Of course not.” Her sisters echoed, followed by a silence characterized by the fidgeting of body parts, the biting of lips, the clasping of hands together, and the clearing of throats. Where are the suitors? There are no suitors. Susana thought the words were echoing through the minds of all present. No one wanted to say such a thing; they were managing to support themselves with the efforts of all who were capable, but it wasn’t suitable for a permanent situation. Susana, for one, wished to marry and have children of her own, and she was certain her other sisters did as well. But who wanted to marry penniless, essentially dowerless women, titled though they were?

“We shall see,” Patience hinted, deliberately raising her eyebrows. “I do have a lovely surprise for all of you, but you won’t persuade me to reveal it until tomorrow.”

Waves of moans and objections filled the room. “Why not?” “Tell us now, Mama.” “I won’t sleep a wink imagining what it might be.”

“Be it as it may, tomorrow, Twelfth Day, is the appointed time, and you will all be told in the morning. After breakfast.”

More groans and moans.

“Your sisters are exhausted, Dorothy from working at the hotel all day, and Susana from traveling from Leeds. We must all be refreshed and ready to take on a new and exciting challenge.”

Doro and Susana objected, but Patience was firm. “Tomorrow will be soon enough. However,” she said, turning to Susana, “we are all eager to hear about your experiences in Leeds. Your letters indicate that the dressmaking is going well, is that not right?”

Susana blushed. “Yes, it is, rather. I just completed a large project, an entire trousseau, which meant we had to start a waiting list for other customers.”

“Of course,” remarked Iris, loyally. “You make the best gowns anywhere.”

“No doubt about it,” added her twin Ivy, followed by a chorus of like sentiments around the room.

“A very useful skill indeed,” pondered their stepmother.

This story was written for the readers of the original version of Desperate Daughters who expressed concern over the absence of Susana’s story, since she played a key part in the other sisters’ stories.

Her story deserves to be told.

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Susana Ellis is a retired teacher, part-time caregiver, sewist, cook, and fashion print collector. Lifelong reading and a fascination with history led her to writing historical romances. She is one of the original Bluestocking Belles and is a member of the Regency Fiction Writers and the Maumee Valley Romance Authors Inc.