by Joan Smith
“When folks come uninvited, they can’t complain of the company. I could hardly turn Jonathon from the door after all he’s done for us.”
Darren demanded an explanation of this intriguing statement. They were still discussing it when luncheon was announced, and they hadn’t gotten around yet to mentioning that Wanda had a grown daughter. The explanations lasted through the whole meal.
When they were finished, Darren said, “Could I have a word with you in your study, Cousin? I find myself a trifle short—for the trip home, you know. Naturally, I’ll repay every penny.”
“Naturally, with interest,” Salverton said, for he wanted Darren to realize the importance of responsibility. Salverton accompanied him out.
Miss Donaldson said to Samantha, “We should be getting home, Sam.”
“To Oakbay, do you mean?”
“We’ll stay the night at Upper Grosvenor Square and get an early start in the morning. Did Edward say anything ...”
“About what?” Sam asked, but the flush that crept up her neck showed she realized very well what her chaperon meant.
“Did he offer for you?”
“Of course not! He’s practically engaged to Lady Louise.”
“I wonder ...”
She was not left long in doubt when Salverton returned to say he would have his carriage deliver Miss Donaldson and Darren to Upper Grosvenor Square. He wished to take Samantha for a drive in the park to discuss matters. “With your permission, ma’am?” he added. “You are in loco parentis.”
“With my heartfelt approval!” she exclaimed, and kissed him on both cheeks, after which she turned as pink as a peony and emitted a girlish giggle.
Edward and Samantha went to the front door to see Darren and Miss Donaldson off. After they left, Samantha turned to Edward, suddenly shy. “Have you called for the carriage for our drive?” she asked.
“In a moment. There’s something I want to say first.” He drew her into the saloon. Over his shoulder he said to Luten, “I am no longer ‘at home,’ Luten.” Then he closed the door.
Luten could not recall having seen that particular door closed since Lord Salty’s disappearance. Behind the closed door, Salverton led Samantha to one of a pair of sofas flanking the fireplace, but they didn’t sit down.
Samantha was overtaken by a fit of nerves. “I’m sorry, Edward,” she said.
Salverton blinked in astonishment. Was it to be a refusal? “I haven’t even asked you yet!” he exclaimed.
“Oh! I meant about Darren, and Wanda, and everything. I know such goings-on are not what you are accustomed to, or approve of. I cannot imagine what Lady Louise thinks.”
“I cannot imagine caring what Lady Louise thinks.”
“Of course you care! You’re going to offer for her.” She gazed at Edward with bated breath, trying to read his mind.
“I was going to offer for her—until you brought me to my senses.” He seized her two hands and squeezed them.
“Oh, I am glad,” she said, and drew a deep breath. “I could not but feel she was the worst possible match for you—although she is very pretty,” she allowed.
“Even in the comatose state I’ve lived in these past years, I still insisted on some modicum of beauty in my ladies. But let us not speak of Louise.”
“You wanted to ask me something ...” she said, peering up at him with a question and such hope and love beaming in her eyes that Salverton forgot the question and crushed her into his arms for a kiss that left them both breathless.
As his lips bruised hers, the question was asked and answered to their mutual satisfaction. Samantha’s head whirled with the unexpected passion and joy of that kiss. Edward loved her. He wanted to marry her, and if he hadn’t asked, she would have died. She had resisted even calling on him until necessity forced her into it, and now she would marry him and be with him forever.
After a long kiss she opened her eyes, and saw him studying her intently. “I never even imagined such a thing,” she sighed.
“I thought you were coming to realize I cared for you.”
“I mean when I first came—or didn’t come, to see you.”
Edward appeared to understand this disjointed speech. “Stiff-rumped,” he said. “I’ve changed.”
“I noticed,” she said with a trembling smile.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door. “I told him I wasn’t at home!” Edward scolded.
Luten’s apologetic voice came through the door. “I’m sorry to disturb you, your lordship, but it’s Lord Liverpool.”
Samantha gasped in excitement.
After a brief pause, Edward said, “Never mind that. It’s only the prime minister,” and kissed his fiancée again.
Copyright © 1995 by Joan Smith
Originally published by Fawcett Crest (ISBN 978-0449223819)
Electronically published in 2015 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228
http://www.RegencyReads.com
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.
