by Blue, Andie
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” he chided her softly. “I can’t help you if won’t talk about it. Is it your mother?”
She shook her head. “No. I feel very relieved that I will be there with her soon.”
“Then what are you worrying about?”
“Isn’t a girl allowed to have a secret?” She smiled in an attempt to tease him, but there were shadows in her eyes.
“Not from me.” He couldn’t keep the possessiveness out of his voice. He wanted to know everything about her. When she remained silent, cold fear pooled in the pit of his stomach. Christ. Could she be pregnant, even though he’d been so careful?
He tried again. “Is there something you want to tell me but you are too afraid?”
She looked stunned, as if he had read her mind. “No, it’s nothing.”
He sighed, his earlier contentment fading into frustration. “We should really go to bed early so that we can get an early start for home tomorrow.”
He pushed to his feet and took her hand, leading her toward the tent he’d set up earlier. The moonlight had made the clearing nearly bright as day, but it was dark in the tent and he hugged her tightly just inside the flap, waiting for his eyes to adjust. “Your secret isn’t that you don’t want to make love with me anymore, is it?” He laughed, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
“No.” Her arms tightened around him. “It definitely isn’t that.”
“Good.” Bending down, he gave her a long, deep kiss, which she returned passionately, easing his fears. Samantha fed a need in him that he hadn’t even known was there. He felt it more each time they made love.
He slowly unbuttoned her shirt, taking his time and kissing each inch of soft, bare skin he uncovered. He slid her trousers down over her hips and to the ground. Not to be outdone, she began stripping off his clothes as well. Finally, they were both naked, standing before each other. He moved his hands down to her bottom, gave it a gentle squeeze and pulled her to him, bringing them closer together. His erection pushed up against her and he kissed her hungrily.
Samantha ran her hands over his chest and the muscles of his abdomen. He moaned against her hair as her hand drifted even lower, wrapping around his cock and stroking firmly.
“I didn’t know it was possible for a woman to be this tempting,” he said as he leaned down to kiss her nipples, gently at first and then with little nips to bring both pain and pleasure.
The depth of feeling he had for her frightened him, and he wanted to show her this the only way he knew how.
He brought her down atop their bedrolls, lying on top of her, loving the way she felt beneath him.
“Am I crushing you?” he asked, urging her to part her thighs so he could press between them.
“No,” she gasped, cupping his face in her hands. “I love feeling you on top of me.”
He slid his aching hardness against the damp cleft of her thighs, enjoying the delicious friction. She moved suggestively against him, obviously wanting him inside of her. He bent his head to kiss her nipples once more.
“Tell me, Sam,” he said, moving against her, resorting to dirty tactics he hoped he had the strength to maintain.
“Tell you what?” she whispered, blinking up at him in dismay.
“Tell me the secret you’ve been keeping from me.” He pulled back slightly and she clutched at him, trying to anchor him against her.
She squirmed, and reached down to guide him into her.
“No,” he growled, grabbing her hands and holding them up above her head.
He pressed forward, then withdrew, until she was panting and writhing beneath him.
“Nico, please. Please make love to me. I can’t take it anymore,” she finally sobbed desperately.
“Not until you tell me your secret.” He stared down at her, sweat breaking out across his brow as he struggled to keep from giving in and thrusting deep within her.
“I…” She hesitated.
“Yes? Finish the rest of it.” He thrust inside of her a few inches, and then slowly pulled back out, tempting her to the breaking point.
“I love you,” she sobbed, finally relenting. “I love you, alright?” She looked at him defiantly. “Now make love to me, you bastard.”
Her words unleashed something primal and untapped deep within him and he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt, leaning forward to take her mouth in a passionate kiss. He wanted to brand her as his for all eternity.
Their tent became very hot as she met him thrust for thrust, until the power of it overwhelmed him and he lost himself deep inside her.
Sam and Nico made good time on the way home. Yesterday, they had taken their time, talking and enjoying the scenery. Today, Nico seemed in a rush, distracted and quiet. Sam rode beside him, thinking about last night. Nico hadn’t said anything after he’d gotten her to admit her love for him.
After they’d made love, he’d simply pulled her into his arms and fallen asleep. He woke her before dawn, told her they needed to start breaking camp, then silently and efficiently went about doing so.
As the day wore on, Sam’s emotions ran the gamut between sadness and anger. Above all, her thoughtless declaration embarrassed her. Those words had given him so much power over her. She’d known telling him wasn’t a good idea and couldn’t believe she’d let him destroy her resolve with passion.
He hadn’t returned the sentiment, so she could only assume he didn’t feel the same way about her. At first this made her sad, but gradually anger burned away the sadness. Who did he think he was? Her love was not something she gave away freely. He could have at least acknowledged it.
When they arrived, John was there to greet them and unpack the horses. Sam stared at Nico for a long moment after they dismounted, hoping he’d say something about meeting later, but after he exchanged a few words with John he turned and strode toward the house, leaving her in the barn with John. Obviously, she had once more become nothing more than the hired help.
With a soft sigh of dismay, she started unsaddling the horses and brushing them down. She supposed she could hardly be angry that he expected her to do her job. That’s what he was paying her for, after all.
John seemed to be just as upset as she was, working silently beside her but saying nothing. Their last conversation played itself over in her mind. Perhaps he’d been right, and she shouldn’t have gone on this trip with Nico, but deep in her heart she couldn’t regret it, no matter how hurt and angry she was now. Up until the moment that she’d said she loved him, the trip had been one of the best days of her whole life.
Why didn’t Nico feel the same way about her that she felt for him? She leaned her face against the bay’s shoulder, as emotion welled up inside her, spilling out in a disgraceful sting of tears. She brushed them angrily away, but it was too late, John was looking at her with sadness and pity.
“Ah, Sam,” he murmured, stepping forward and pulling her into his arms. “Are you all right?”
His concern only made her cry harder. For months she’d been trying so hard to keep everything together, and now her entire life seemed to be coming unraveled at once. Her mother was dying, she was leaving Nico, and he didn’t love her.
“He's not for you, dear.” John patted her back a bit awkwardly. “He's obsessed with his work and has little feeling for the living. You’re a beautiful young woman with a lot of choices in front of you. Your two years of mourning is almost finished. Soon you can start going to some country dances and find someone who can love you and value all that you are.”
She shook her head, not wanting to even consider a future without Nico. “I thought he did value me. I know it's stupid, but I really lost my head.”
“He doesn't want to be married. He's married to his work. And you're too good to be anybody's mistress. Don't you want children?”
“Yes, I do, but I want him too.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes. “I'm ruined now in every possible way.”
“No, you're
not. No one will know about this. Besides, you're a widow, not a young maiden. There’s a little leeway.” He hesitated and pulled back so he could meet her gaze as he brushed away her tears with his fingertip. His blue eyes were filled with compassion…and desire. Something she wished she hadn’t seen.
“Samantha, I'm selfishly happy you won't be carrying on with Lord Chattel anymore.”
“Why?” she asked, hoping that she was imagining the longing in his eyes.
“Isn't it obvious that I want you for myself?” He reached down and took her hands in his, squeezing them, his heart in his eyes. “From the minute you walked in here, determined to win that silly game, I've wanted you. Not like him, not out of lust, but out of love and admiration. I want to take care of you.”
“Oh, John, I don't know what to say.” She blinked and let go of his hand. “It's too soon. I'm angry and sad and more than a little confused right now. When I go home today, I’ll have a lot to think about.”
“Yes. I just wanted you to know I have feelings for you. When you’re ready, I would like to see you again.” He brushed a lock of blond hair out of his eyes and gave her a charming smile. “I come highly recommended, Samantha. I make a good living. I’m strong, young and kind to animals.”
Samantha really looked at him for the first time and realized he was absolutely right. John was handsome and sweet. She’d be lucky to have him. Too bad her heart was already taken.
“Yes, I will think on that,” Samantha said gently, giving him a hug. Then she turned and left the barn, heading to her room to pack to go home.
All too soon, she’d gathered up her meager belongings and had no excuse to linger. With a sigh, she put her bag by the door and then went to Nico’s lab, knowing there was no use putting this off.
She opened the door, smiling at the sight of him bent over his worktable, so intent on what he was doing that he didn’t seem to have heard her come in. This is how she’d always think of him, concentrating on making the world a better place. Perhaps she could content herself with the fact that he would surely go on to do great things and save many lives.
“I’m leaving now,” she finally said quietly.
He took off his glasses and gloves and came over to her. “I have something for you.” He picked up an envelope from the desk and handed it to her. “This should be enough money to make sure your mother is comfortably taken care of for as long as it takes,” he said, rubbing her arm gently. “If you need more, don’t hesitate to ask.”
She held the envelope tightly, touched and embarrassed. She hated accepting his help, but this money, which she knew was nothing to him, meant everything to her. “Thank you, Nico,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears. “For giving me the chance to give my mother the best possible care. It means a great deal to me.”
“You’re welcome,” Nico said, his voice filled with sadness. “Samantha, I'll be thinking of you, dreaming of you.”
“Goodbye, Nico,” she said and turned to go, still hoping he would stop her and tell her that he loved her. As she crossed the room, she squared her shoulders, desperately fighting to keep from turning around and begging him to let her stay. When he didn’t say anything, she shut the door carefully behind her, and leaned against the wall in the hallway, crying as her heart broke.
* * *
Nico stared after Samantha longingly, fighting the urge to go after her. She’d been quiet and withdrawn on the ride home, obviously hurt that he hadn’t returned her sweet declaration of love.
He’d wanted to. The words had been on the tip of his tongue. But the moment had been so poignant, so profound, for him, that he hadn’t wanted to ruin it by saying something she’d be sure to think was forced, especially since he hadn’t really known until that very moment how much he did love her. He’d been so overwhelmed that he’d become tongue-tied.
This morning, as they’d ridden home, he’d given the whole situation a lot of thought, trying to decide what was the best thing to do. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but he also didn’t want to say anything she’d take as a promise, not until he was certain what he wanted to do about their relationship.
In the end, he’d decided now was not the right moment. Her mother was dying, and Sam needed to be there. He didn’t want her to be worrying about him when she needed to focus completely on her mother. God knows, he wished he could go back in time and be there when his own mother was dying. He would give her that time. Give them both that time.
With a sigh, he turned back to his work, wondering how he was going to survive the next few weeks or months without her.
* * *
For Samantha, the next month crept by painfully slow. She had to witness the gradual deterioration of the wonderful woman who had raised her, the utter transformation from a woman who loved to sing throughout life to a shell with no voice and no memory.
Thankfully Mrs. Potter was there to help. Samantha tried to remain cheerful for both of their sakes but it was difficult. Often she would simply go outside and try to lose herself in farm work. Seeing her mother like this ripped the joy from her until the only bliss she had was in the prayer she spoke every morning at dawn before her mother awoke.
During one of these mornings, a blessed note arrived from Lady Bellamy. Charlotte had invited her to come for tea. It seemed like an odd request. Why on earth would someone like Charlotte want to have tea with someone like her?
However, Samantha could think of no reason to refuse, and she was desperate to have a moment away from this pain. The Earl’s house was not far from the village, so Samantha set out early and arrived in good time.
The house was similar in style to Bentley Park in that it had a long drive and beautiful gardens. There weren’t any olive trees, though. She looked across the fields behind the house wondering if she could see Nico’s house from there, but she could not.
Samantha rang the bell, introduced herself and waited for the butler to get Charlotte. Charlotte swept into the room, looking radiant in a yellow flowered gown, taking Samantha’s hands.
“I'm so happy to see you,” Charlotte rejoiced, giving her a little hug. “Ever since I met you, I thought we could be good friends. I would have invited you to tea earlier, but we've been away to London for the last month. I'm glad you're here.”
“Thank you, Charlotte,” Samantha replied, stunned by the warm welcome. They talked of the weather and Charlotte told her of the parties they had gone to in London and the changes in fashion. It was fun to get lost in the talk of dancing and fashion after such a difficult month.
“There's actually another reason I invited you here,” Charlotte admitted, after Samantha had just started to get comfortable in these strange surroundings.
“Yes?” Samantha asked, slightly fearful of what was coming. She should have known this was too good to be true.
“I’m holding a ball in a couple of weeks.” Charlotte beamed. “Since you’ve completed your official mourning period, I would love for you to come.”
“A ball? Charlotte. I adore being here with you, but surely you know we are from different worlds. I’m a farmer’s daughter, not ball material. I wouldn't know the first thing about how to talk or walk or anything.”
“I could teach you,” Charlotte exclaimed excitedly.
“Why? Why bother?” As soon as the words were out of Samantha’s mouth, she already knew the answer. “Lord Chattel put you up to this, didn't he?” She stood abruptly and began pacing the floor in front of Charlotte. “Why would he do that? What does he hope to gain with my elevation from farmhand to belle of the ball?”
Charlotte looked a little flushed. She was obviously struggling with how to reply. “Calm down, Samantha. I can explain.” Charlotte took a slow sip of her tea while Samantha waited impatiently.
“I did see Nico, and he didn't look well. I think he's missed you horribly and is taking it out on himself, working night and day.” She paused, searching Samantha’s face, obviously trying to read her reaction to that.
“I suggested that perhaps a little merriment would be just the thing for both of you. You could receive an official introduction to him. No one would ever have to know about the way the two of you actually met, or your past history.”
“You plan to turn me from a plow horse into a show pony? In two weeks? I have callouses on my hands, for goodness sake!”
“Don’t be so serious, Samantha. We have beautiful gloves for that.” Charlotte’s face was full of enthusiasm.
She didn’t want to crush her new friend’s hopes but she also didn’t want to be anyone other than herself. “This is who I am, Charlotte. I guess Nico thought I wasn't good enough. I'm not going to make a fool of myself more than I already have by transforming myself into a pretend lady.”
“Nico did not ask me to change you and you won’t be pretending to be anyone other than yourself. You will be Samantha at a ball. Wouldn't you like to dress up? To dance? To have a little fun, a little cake?” Charlotte asked pleadingly. “Just think of how handsome Nico will look in formal evening wear.”
The image that filled Sam’s mind was almost too much to bear. “The cake does sound good,” she said, and they both laughed. How could she fight this, when she wanted it so badly? “Let the show pony training begin.”
“Oh, good!” Charlotte said, clapping her hands together in obvious pleasure. “I love transformations. You should see what I did to my cousin. She went from a mouse to an angel overnight.”
Samantha didn’t enjoy the comparison to a mouse, but she smiled at Charlotte’s enthusiasm.
“Let's waste no time. Come upstairs and meet my maid, Laura. She’s a wonder with hair and I will tell you all about the protocol of a ball.”
Not waiting for an answer, Charlotte grabbed her hand and pulled her up the stairs. Samantha trailed reluctantly in her wake, patting her short auburn hair, which was starting to grow out but was still far too short to be fashionable. She wondered if Charlotte possibly had the skill to turn her into someone Nico could be proud to join in a waltz.
