by Alyssa Drake
“Yes. It is really me.”
“What? How? We all thought you were dead,” Franklin stuttered, color returning to his cheeks.
Edward smiled. “I am a fighter.”
“What happened to you?” asked Franklin. He struggled to sit up, assisted by Edward and Sam.
“I do not know,” replied Edward, shrugging. “I woke up in a monastery a week ago with no memory of how I got there.”
Sam was amazed at how easily Edward lied about his whereabouts. After all, only Edward and Benjamin knew Edward had actually awoken two years prior and had spent the time researching his father’s death. Neither of them realized Sam had overheard their discussion. She wondered if Edward repeated the same lie to Wilhelmina. She did not seem a bit surprised when he revealed that piece of information to Franklin.
Did Edward suspect Wilhelmina too? Surely not. Possibly, he thought it best not to frighten her with the complete truth. To be honest, knowing the truth made Sam terrified. She refused to confess that fact to anyone, including Lord Westwood. Her fears remained locked tightly behind a cheerful façade.
Wilhelmina, upstairs with her children at the time, did not have the chance to eavesdrop on the conversation between Edward and Lord Westwood. Sam’s eyes flicked over Wilhelmina, still bent over Franklin’s frail form. It would wound Wilhelmina tremendously if she learned Edward purposely stayed away from her and the children for two years.
Franklin exhaled loudly. “Forgive me for fainting, dear cousin. It was a bit of a surprise to see you standing in the hallway.”
“Of course, Franklin,” smiled Edward. “It was not my intention to cause you any distress.”
“Perhaps you would like to take a few moments to recover in the library,” Wilhelmina suggested kindly, gesturing to the nearby room.
“Yes, thank you,” nodded Franklin, leaning heavily on Edward as they entered the room.
“Edward, I will sit with Franklin,” Sam volunteered. “You must be announced; the butler is waiting.” She gestured to the uniformed man waiting in the hallway. Shooing Edward and Wilhelmina from the library, Sam patted Franklin’s hand as she took a seat on the bench next to him.
“Thank you, Samantha,” Franklin replied with a tight smile once they were alone. “Please excuse me for taking up so much of your time. I do not want to cause any trouble.”
“Spending time with you is no trouble at all,” replied Sam.
“I am keeping you from the ball,” continued Franklin in a miserable tone, his eyes cast down.
Sam squeezed his hand. “I am sorry to admit this, however, I am using you as an excuse to avoid the ball. You are aware of how much I dislike these ridiculous social functions, and this incident has afforded me with the most perfect excuse.”
Franklin laughed, his tone improving considerably. “Of course, my dear, I will be happy to provide you with such a reason. However, if I remember correctly, you did not always want to avoid balls.”
Sam laughed too, thinking of her prior conversation with Marie. “That was the first ball I ever attended.”
“You have always been my favorite dance partner,” added Franklin with a wink.
“It is a shame you had to cut your trip short. Where did you go this time?”
“Paris.”
“I would love to vacation in Paris,” sighed Sam. Her eyes glanced up at the couples passing through the hallway, not one person noticing either herself or Franklin.
Franklin laughed again. “Unfortunately, I was there on business. Yet it is breathtaking. I recommend everyone visit Paris in the springtime. Perhaps now that Edward has returned, he will allow you to travel with me.”
Sam shook her head sadly. “I doubt that. He is most intent on my marrying a suitable husband by the end of the season.”
“A suitable husband?” Franklin raised his eyebrow. “I thought you were against the idea of marriage.”
Sam paused a moment, debating whether to confess she was already engaged. Franklin, a close confidant for many years, deserved to hear the news from her. Although it became clear to her of late that Franklin seemed to be a little more interested in her wellbeing than when she was younger.
Could it be possible Franklin nurtured an unknown affection? Her mind raced over the past few times she spent in Franklin’s company. Ever the gentleman, Franklin remained well-mannered at every encounter. However, he did encourage a particular closeness between the two of them.
“I was,” Sam dragged out the words, gauging Franklin’s reaction.
“And Edward’s return has caused you to rethink that decision?” Franklin asked.
Sam nodded, her fingers twisted together in her lap, unsure of how to explain Lord Westwood’s strange proposal. A plan, he called it–a mutual agreement between the two of them–her freedom in exchange for an heir. Not in the least bit romantic. Sam grimaced at the recollection. Perhaps amiable companionship was all she could hope for. At least Lord Westwood was willing to accept her quirks, and it was a smart match as Edward pointed out.
Her mind drifted to Lord Westwood’s sinful mouth, moving expertly against her skin, whispering seduction. Naïve in this aspect of relationships, he would be a good instructor. His words echoed in her mind; I have been told I am an excellent tutor. She trembled involuntarily. She knew his reputation, the effect he had on women, on her. One touch and all her virtuous resolve melted like wisps of smoke. She suddenly longed to run her fingers over his bare skin.
“Samantha is everything alright?” Franklin interrupted her reverie.
A blush crept into Sam’s cheeks as the image faded, and Franklin came into focus. “My apologies, dear cousin, I was reflecting on a recent conversation.”
“Is this something you want, or is Edward forcing you to marry?” Franklin leaned forward in concern, patting her arm.
“Edward is not forcing me to do anything,” Sam replied. Indeed, Edward seemed less keen on the idea than she was. It had taken Edward some time to accept Lord Westwood’s offer—time and a black eye. A small smile flitted across Sam’s face—predictable Edward.
“Has Edward approved of a suitor?” pressed Franklin, a dark, unreadable expression crossing his face.
“Miss Hastings,” a strained voice echoed in the room, cutting off Sam’s reluctant reply.
Sam looked up in joy and relief. “Lord Westwood.”
Franklin, still pale, glanced up at Lord Westwood, offering him a weak greeting, then apologizing for keeping Sam from the ball due to his unfortunate reaction to seeing Edward.
With a concerned look, Lord Westwood took a seat across from Sam and stared intently at Franklin. Folding his hands patiently, Benjamin gestured for Franklin to continue. Before Franklin uttered one word, Mr. Lockhearst stormed into the room, his chest puffed ridiculously.
“Miss Hastings,” he demanded, a pompous tone rolling from his mouth. He paused briefly, noticing the other two men in the room. His eyes roved disdainfully over Franklin, narrowing significantly as they passed over Lord Westwood. Dismissing them with a curt nod, he turned his complete attention to Sam.
“Mr. Lockhearst,” Sam greeted him with the barest of smiles. She noticed Lord Westwood rolling his eyes at her.
“You haven’t the faintest idea what I have had to put up with recently,” he muttered, loud enough for only Sam to hear.
She smirked, glancing down to hide her grin. Quickly she gathered her composure and returned her attention to Mr. Lockhearst. “What can I do for you, Mr. Lockhearst?”
“Your guardian has rejected my proposal,” Mr. Lockhearst indicated Lord Westwood with a swipe of his hand.
Sam glanced at Lord Westwood and raised her eyebrows. He offered a slight nod in answer to her silent question.
“I am given to believe you have accepted an offer of marriage from another man,” he bellowed, ignorant of the exchange between them. “I demand you tell me the name of the gentleman, so I may convince him to withdraw his proposal as I would be a more suitable match. I am
positive you were unaware of my desires, or you would have rejected this suitor in favor of the more acceptable choice.”
Sam felt Franklin shift unhappily next to her. This was not the way she had wished Franklin to discover her engagement. She had planned on breaking the news gently to him, so as not to damage his fragile nature. Sam glared at Mr. Lockhearst, ire flashing in her eyes. When she finally spoke, her aggravation barely contained itself in her frosty response.
“Mr. Lockhearst, I am well aware of your desires,” she stated, her voice dripping with venom, “and I am certain it was not your intention to insult me by questioning my decision to accept another man’s proposal.”
Mr. Lockhearst’s mouth fell open with a pop, but shock prevented any sound from escaping.
Ignoring him, Sam continued in her seething tone.
“Since you are not family or my fiancé, it is none of your concern the name of the gentleman who proposed to me. However, since you find it necessary to bully your way into my affairs, I will answer your demand with this statement. I would never entertain the idea of accepting a man who doubted my mind.”
Mr. Lockhearst glared at Lord Westwood. “I assume this response is due to the meddling of your guardian.”
“Lord Westwood is no longer my acting guardian,” answered Sam, rising to her feet. “Do not presume I am easily swayed from my decisions.”
“And if I disagree with your rash choice?” spat Mr. Lockhearst.
Sam offered a tight smile, rising from the bench. “Then you may take the matter up with Edward as my brother is now my guardian.”
“I shall,” retorted Mr. Lockhearst, turning on his heel and stomping out of the room.
“Do you really want to set that man on your poor unsuspecting brother?” asked Lord Westwood with a grin.
Sam answered his grin with her own. “I owe him one. He needs to fulfill his brotherly duties. Besides, I cannot allow you to bear that agony alone.”
“My goodness, what has Mr. Lockhearst in such a fury?” Lady Westwood stood in the doorway, her eyes twinkling.
“Miss Hastings’ sharp tongue,” replied Lord Westwood with a laugh.
“Miss Hastings,” Lady Westwood smiled as Samantha offered her a wobbly curtsy. “I certainly hope never to err on the side of your anger.”
Sam turned a bright shade of pink. “Lady Westwood, I am sure I would never find an occasion to speak to you in rough tones.”
“I should hope not, my dear,” Lady Westwood replied. She smiled again at the room, noticing Franklin peering around Sam with a pale expression. He rose and bowed.
“Mr. Morris, how delightful to see you again. How was your trip?”
“It was very enjoyable, thank you,” he responded, his quiet tone filled with sadness.
“We did not get a chance to speak of it this morning. You were in such a hurry to return to town.”
“Please forgive my rudeness,” answered Franklin. “My thoughts were scattered this morning.”
“Of course, Mr. Morris, I understand your distress. That reminds me,” Lady Westwood turned back toward Sam and produced a handkerchief from her handbag. “One of the maids found this when she changed the linens. I believe this is yours.”
She handed Sam a small handkerchief. Sam gasped. How could she have forgotten her father’s pocket watch? Opening the handkerchief, she showed the gold watch to Franklin who leaned over to inspect it, curiosity shining in his face.
“It was my father’s,” Sam explained, holding it out for Franklin.
He took it, his fingers sliding over the watch cautiously. It snapped open. He poked the face, gently rubbing his thumb across the gilded edges. “It does not seem to be working.”
“Would you be able to repair it?” asked Sam, her head bent over the watch too.
“I can try,” answered Franklin, closing the lid and returning the watch to her. “I will drop by sometime this week and take a look at it.”
“Thank you,” smiled Sam. A master with all things mechanical, Franklin loved to tinker with timepieces. Sam knew he would do everything within his knowledge to repair her father’s watch.
“Mr. Morris, I am terribly parched. Would you care to get some refreshment with me?” asked Lady Westwood. Sam thought she spied Lady Westwood sending a quick wink in her son’s direction. Sam wondered what silent conversation had occurred between him and his mother while Franklin and Sam were preoccupied with the watch.
“Certainly,” he replied. He bowed stiffly to both Sam and Lord Westwood, then offered his arm to Lady Westwood, escorting her from the library.
Sam grinned at Lord Westwood. “Mr. Lockhearst did not seem to be enjoying himself at all tonight. Tell me, have you had a pleasant evening?”
“Not in the slightest,” he responded. “Though I am planning on remedying the situation immediately.”
“How do you intend to do that my Lord?” asked Sam, tilting her head slightly.
Without speaking, he crossed the room in two large steps and gathered her into his arms. burying his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. She squirmed as his mouth, moving wickedly against her neck, beginning an assault on her skin.
“Benjamin,” she moaned softly as his mouth traveled slowly up her throat, nibbling on her lips incessantly.
“Samantha!”
Sam jumped a foot in the air. Her head whipped around at the sound. Casually, Lord Westwood released his seductive grip and slid his body in front of Sam to protect her from the rage of Wilhelmina as she stood vibrating in the doorway.
“In public, no less,” Wilhelmina continued, still shaking with fury.
“Nothing happened,” replied Sam, peeking around Lord Westwood’s arm.
“Nothing happened yet,” stated Wilhelmina, her accusing eyes falling on Lord Westwood.
He had the good sense to appear apologetic. “Mrs. Hastings, surely you do not believe I would do anything to compromise the reputation of my future wife.”
“I believe a great deal many things, Lord Westwood. That includes the rumors I have heard about your less than gentlemanly exploits.”
“Whose less than gentlemanly exploits are we discussing?” Edward appeared behind Wilhelmina. His eyes quickly drank in the scene in front of him—Wilhelmina radiating anger and Sam partially hidden behind Lord Westwood.
Edward sighed. He moved around Wilhelmina into the room, shaking his head. He focused his attention on Lord Westwood. “Benjamin, I do not wish to strike my future brother-in-law twice in the same week. However, if the need arises, I shall.”
Lord Westwood nodded curtly. “You must do what you feel is best.”
Sam noticed the ghost of a smile on Edward’s lips. “Sammie, as you have very little experience in this particular area of relationships, I would recommend you try not to stray too far from your guardian.”
Sam glanced at Lord Westwood and raised her eyebrows, a giggle threatening to burst into the silent room. Quickly, she pressed her hand over her lips, momentarily distracted by the thought of his mouth on hers. She flushed, the heat creeping up her neck, following the same path his lips had taken only a few minutes earlier. Embarrassed, she looked down at the floor.
“What are you thinking about?” murmured Lord Westwood. She blushed even deeper, afraid to look into his blazing emerald eyes.
“Edward is your guardian,” growled Wilhelmina, glaring at Sam.
“Speaking of guardians, what did you say to Mr. Lockhearst?” asked Edward with a confused expression. “He was in a terribly foul mood when he approached me in the ballroom.”
Sam coughed to cover a chuckle. Her eyes rose to meet Lord Westwood’s, who was also having difficulty keeping a straight face.
“Mr. Lockhearst does not approve of my ability to act as Miss Hastings’ guardian,” Lord Westwood managed to choke out.
“I am not entirely certain I do either,” muttered Wilhelmina.
“Since you are no longer Sammie’s guardian, I believe the point is moot. However, Mr. Lockhear
st did express his wishes to court Samantha. Therefore, I must ask a question.”
Sam tilted her head slightly and smiled sweetly. “What would you like to ask me, Edward?”
Edward sighed, his disgust for social etiquette apparent. He directed his statement at Lord Westwood. “This is a mere formality.”
He nodded. “Of course, please ask my fiancée your question.”
Edward rolled his eyes. “Samantha, would you prefer to stay engaged to Lord Westwood, or would you like to reject his proposal in favor of Mr. Lockhearst?”
“Hmm,” Sam teased. “That is such a difficult decision.”
“Samantha, please act seriously,” Wilhelmina chastised.
“My dear brother,” replied Sam, “I would prefer to remain engaged to Lord Westwood.”
“Thank you,” responded Edward. “I shall tell Mr. Lockhearst.”
“Miss Hastings.” Lord Westwood bowed ridiculously low to the ground. “Would you be so kind as to allow me to escort you into the ballroom? That is if your guardian approves.”
Sam giggled, accepting his arm. “I would be delighted, Lord Westwood.”
“You are trying my patience, Benjamin,” warned Edward as they passed him. “Remember the real reason for my attendance this evening.”
“Of course,” nodded Lord Westwood, a serious expression replacing his easy smile.
A significant look passed between the two of them. Edward nodded once, wrapping Wilhelmina’s arm through his. “Come, my dear. I think we should join them on the dance floor.”
Wilhelmina paused, her eyes narrowing slightly. She planted her feet firmly on the floor, refusing to budge. “What is the real reason for your attendance this evening?”
“To announce the engagement and subsequent party for Samantha,” Edward answered. He smiled winningly at his wife.
Lord Westwood tugged lightly on Sam’s arm. “Miss Hastings, I believe we will be safer in the ballroom.”
“I quite agree, Lord Westwood.”
They disappeared into the ballroom, the music drowning out Wilhelmina’s angry retort.
