Catching the Baron

by Jenn Langston

  Leaning back in his seat, he tried to act as if the information didn’t affect him. “You exaggerate. All three of those women barely tolerate me.”

  Her stare told him she didn’t believe him.

  “Regardless, I have invited the three of them to come over today. That will give you a better opportunity to decide if you would like to marry one of them.”

  With a groan, Kenneth rose to his feet and began pacing. “Why are you so intent on trying to see me wed even when I’ve almost completely given up on the notion?”

  Silence spread around him, making him worry he’d hurt her feelings. Guilt plagued him to see Catherine with her head bowed. Raking his hands through his hair, he wanted to howl in frustration. Why was nothing he did good enough anymore?

  “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this, but your mother asked Jonathan for a loan a few weeks ago.”

  Gritting his teeth, Kenneth decided he needed to have a talk with his mother. Not only was her interference unwanted, but it was inappropriate. He didn’t even want to know what Jonathan thought of him now.

  “Ignore my mother. She knows nothing of my finances.” With a sigh, he attempted to soften his voice. “I appreciate everything you are doing for me. Don’t be concerned. I will choose a bride by the end of the Season.”

  The reality brought more distress than he expected to feel. He realized that up to this point he hadn’t believed he would have to submit himself to marriage to a lady he didn’t know. Now he’d run out of options.

  He would give himself a few more weeks with Samantha, and then he would devote his time to finding his own heiress. He would not leave London without a wife on his arm.

  Chapter 13

  Samantha stared across Lady Linwood’s drawing room at Kenneth enjoying a lively discussion with Miss Doutree. From their obvious comfort with one another, she wondered if she should begin checking the Society pages for announcements of their betrothal.

  An intense jealousy burned in her chest. Unable to handle the sight of them any longer, she looked away. Is this how life would be from now on? Last night when Kenneth had taken her in his arms, she knew their encounter would be a mistake. Although she tried to hold herself aloof, she could no longer deny her love for him.

  After she’d returned to the ballroom, she had futilely searched for him all night. He’d never returned. Had he regretted sharing her bed? Had he been repulsed by her boldness? Or had she left a mark on him as well? An invisible one at least. Without thought, she reached up to touch the scarf around her neck. The memory of his mouth on her still brought chills.

  Glancing up, she noticed Kenneth’s eyes were on her neck. The amusement in his face angered her. She dropped her hand. How dare he give her a lingering mark?

  “How are you enjoying the Season?” Lady Linwood asked as she took a seat to Samantha’s left.

  Flustered, Samantha tried to forget Kenneth. She would deal with him later. “It’s very busy. I never imagined having so many demands on my time.”

  “True, but there are enough positive aspects to bring everyone back here year after year. Myself included.”

  Samantha smiled. “Gunter’s ices being one of them.”

  “Lady Laramie’s ball being the second. Last night had been my third time attending, and I wasn’t disappointed. I can’t imagine the work involved.”

  “My grandmother devotes a lot of time to see to the preparations.”

  “Such a shame my cousin had to leave so early.”

  “Quite.” Curiosity tugged at Samantha, making her squirm in her seat. “Did he give his reason for leaving?”

  With a sigh, Lady Linwood shook her head, but her eyes betrayed her intensity. “I had hoped you would know. He followed you out onto the terrace, then never returned to the ballroom.”

  Although her heart thumped thunderously in her chest, Samantha tried to remain outwardly unmoved. She had thought the plan had run smoothly. Even her grandmother hadn’t known what had occurred last night until she saw Samantha’s neck this morning.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t see him on the terrace, and he never made any excuses to me.”

  “Oh well, I had hoped-”

  “May I interrupt?” Kenneth slid into the chair beside his cousin, drawing her gaze.

  “Of course.” Lady Linwood faced Samantha again. “Please excuse me.”

  Kenneth stood with her as she rose, then he took the chair she vacated. Considering the viscountess’s observant eyes, unease crawled across Samantha’s skin. She wished she could be anywhere but here.

  “Don’t mind her.” Kenneth’s lowered voice made her want to close her eyes and lean into him. “She means well.”

  Panic assaulted her as his words sank in. “You could hear us? Everyone in the room will start to speculate.”

  “Calm down. I simply read your face, as I am now. Smile at me and nod your head.”

  Forcing herself to obey, she put on a tight smile and nodded once. He laughed. What was he hoping to accomplish? Taking her eyes off him, she noticed the other guest’s interest in them. Miss Doutree and Grace were openly watching, while the chaperones were being more covert in their observations.

  “We have somehow become the center of attention.” Samantha attempted to contain the blush heating her neck.

  “I know. Although I understand the gazes from some of them, I don’t pretend to know them all. Just act normal. It’s me they are interested in.”

  “Why?”

  Kenneth raised an eyebrow at his cousin, leaned back in his seat, and raised his voice. “That is a lovely scarf you are wearing.”

  She resisted the urge to narrow her eyes. Clearly he wanted to discuss his less-than-gentlemanly behavior. She still could hardly believe he marked her.

  “Thank you. It was a gift from Monsieur Gerard.”

  “You are accepting gifts from the man?” His tone came out louder than she would have preferred.

  His outrage rang plainly, as did his jealousy. She almost smiled at her small bit of revenge, but although the volume of conversation in the room had increased, the curious stares didn’t lessen.

  She hadn’t exactly received the scarf as a gift since she had insisted on reimbursing Monsieur Gerard, but Kenneth didn’t need to know that.

  “I only thought it fair to represent more than one man on my neck.” She strived to set her tone barely above a whisper. “My grandmother thought I should take you to task, though. She said a sloppy lover is an ex-lover.”

  His eyes bulged. “You told her?”

  “How could I hide it from her? She saw it this morning at breakfast. However, she doesn’t know who gave it to me. What were you thinking?”

  Kenneth opened his mouth, but closed it when Miss Doutree approached them.

  “Lord Berwick, could I have a word with you?”

  Uncertainty ran through his eyes before he nodded to the girl. “Indeed. Please excuse me, Lady Samantha.”

  The tension in the room brought a stifling atmosphere. Samantha couldn’t take it any longer. After a few whispered words to her grandmother, they, along with Grace and her mother, excused themselves.

  Hoping to take advantage of the beautiful day, they opted to walk back to the townhouse.

  “That was strange,” Grace acknowledged as they trailed behind their chaperones. “I also find it unusual the three of us were invited to attend together.”

  “Yes,” Samantha agreed, unsure if the strangeness Grace referred to was the feeling of being watched or something else entirely.

  “Did you notice it too? When Kenneth sat beside me to talk, I thought everyone was watching us, straining their ears to hear our every word.”

  Relief flooded Samantha to know she hadn’t been the only one. But where was the interest coming from? Certainly the women had better conversation to hold then to observe others. She wasn’t sure if she should be concerned or not.

  “I know. Why do you think that is?”

  “Well, the three of us
have spent quite a bit of time in Kenneth’s company, so his cousin must expect him to marry one of us. Perhaps she hoped he would choose today.”

  Samantha nodded in agreement. Their chaperones must have come to the same conclusion and watched to determine if his favor leaned to one above the rest. Her stomach clenched. The cold-blooded approach to marriage made her ill.

  “Do you think he intends to choose from us?”

  Grace’s side glance and curious eyes indicated Samantha had given away more than she intended. She merely wished to know if Miss Doutree would become the next baroness, not to insinuate she desired the position. Because she did not.

  “Why do you ask? I daresay if you are interested in him, he would be more than happy to oblige.”

  “Yes.” Her voice turned bitter. “He needs to marry an heiress. I’ve heard so. Many times.”

  “Don’t pretend that is the only thing passing between you. The two of you seemed intent on your conversation today, and he didn’t appear like a man who is after your dowry.”

  “But I-”

  They were interrupted when her grandmother and Grace’s mother rushed back to them. Concern was etched in both women’s faces.

  “We should take the carriage the remainder of the way,” her grandmother suggested.

  “What is wrong?” Grace asked her mother.

  “Lady Minor approached us with news. The Duchess of Donetic and Viscount Rhodes are dead.”

  Silence echoed in the room. Kenneth shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the lack of conversation. He sat in the duke’s study with Greyson, Braiden, and the duke’s cousin, Thomas Everett. However, Braiden remained in his chair with his back to them.

  Unexpectedly, the duke jumped to his feet and paced the room. “Drink up. I’ve opened my home and liquor to you. The least you can do is get soused with me.”

  “I’m not sure that is a good idea.” Greyson rose and put a hand on Braiden’s shoulder, stopping his incessant movement. “It’s late. You should rest now.”

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me over these past days.” Braiden’s voice barely made it above a whisper. “You should probably be with my sister right now. She and the duchess were close.”

  “I know, but she was your wife. I-”

  “Please see to Abigail.”

  The twisted smile on the duke’s face reminded Kenneth of all their conversations about women. Clearly Braiden hadn’t seen fit to explain the nature of his relationship to his brother-in-law. Did Greyson truly believe Braiden had been happy?

  “If you need anything . . .”

  Braiden nodded and watched Greyson leave the room.

  “You should have just told him,” Thomas said from the corner of the room.

  “Why?” Braiden turned on him. “He and my sister are happier in their ignorance of my loveless marriage.”

  “So Berwick and I are left to listen to the sordid details.”

  “Damn it, Thomas. Stop pestering him,” Kenneth demanded. “Regardless of their relationship, he just lost his wife.”

  “Yes,” Braiden said bitterly. “Leaving my dear cousin, Thomas, the task of finding his own life-crushing harpy to sire a child on.”

  “Sire your own heir,” Thomas spat. “I have no need of one.”

  Kenneth knew the men were close enough that their bickering wouldn’t harm their relationship, but it couldn’t be helping Braiden’s state of mind right now.

  “Don’t think of it now. In the future, you might feel differently,” Kenneth inserted.

  “No. I won’t. The false happiness brought on by ‘love’ doesn’t last past the wedding night. Then the subsequent years of torment do nothing to add joy to your life.”

  “Marriage is a trap,” Thomas added.

  With his throat closing, Kenneth felt as though the room grew darker. Could his future be bleak as well? What of Jonathan? Or Richard? Or Greyson? Surely they had pleasure in their lives.

  “It isn’t that way for all,” Kenneth defended, desperately grasping at the knowledge of his friends’ relationships, while the walls caved in on him.

  Braiden dropped himself in a chair and threw back a brandy. “You are right. My problem was that I did care for the duchess at one point. She didn’t reciprocate. I suppose marriage can work if both parties felt nothing for one another. Or, as in my sister’s case, they have fooled themselves into believing they love each other. That’s temporary, of course.”

  Thomas stood and stumbled forward. “At least you won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

  Glass shattered a foot in front of Thomas. Kenneth cast his gaze to Braiden, who still held his hand in the air from tossing the brandy decanter.

  “Don’t disrespect her. I’m not glad this happened. I will miss . . . No, I won’t. But I grieve for the life she should have had.”

  Kenneth got to his feet as the duke fell into his chair and covered his face with his hands. “Come on, Thomas. I’ll see you to bed.”

  After aiding Thomas to the capable hands of the butler, Kenneth headed home. He couldn’t begin to imagine what Braiden experienced right now. The poor man hadn’t had an easy time of it with his wife in life or in death.

  Their conversation continued to haunt him all night and wouldn’t release him in the morning either. Was he doomed to endure the misery Braiden had? Thoughts of his mother flickered through his mind. Had his speculation been right? Was that why she confined herself to the dowager house? Had his parent’s marriage been like Braiden’s?

  By midmorning, Kenneth couldn’t contain his restlessness and decided to go see Samantha. Ever since he’d heard of the duchess’ death, he wanted to grab Samantha to him and never let her go. Life seemed too fragile right now, and he needed the reassurance of seeing her.

  Regardless of how irrational his feelings were, he began walking in the direction of Lady Laramie’s townhouse. The air smelled moist, hinting at the impending rain, but he didn’t care. Even if the sky opened up and unleashed its fury, he wouldn’t stop.

  Luckily both Samantha and her grandmother were home. Lady Laramie agreed to meet with him in the drawing room. When the butler ushered him in, she sat in a chair and regarded him with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

  “What do I owe the honor of your visit today?” she asked as she unfolded her arms and indicated the chair in front of her.

  “I wish to inquire after Lady Samantha. Is she available for a stroll through Hyde Park today?”

  “Do you believe that is wise? You coming here is already unorthodox enough.”

  Kenneth sucked in his breath. She knew. Had Samantha told her they were lovers? Or had she discovered it on her own? Regardless, he refused to remain quiet and be scolded like an errant child.

  “I see nothing unusual in my request. I have accompanied a number of ladies through Hyde Park, and have never encountered an issue due to it.”

  “The difference being-”

  “Lord Berwick.” Pleasure sounded in Samantha’s voice as she swept into the room. “We were not expecting your visit today.”

  Lady Laramie shook her head. “Yes. We were just speaking of his surprise appearance.” She got to her feet, prompting him to do the same. “I will allow a walk through my garden, not the park. It will be known I accompanied you.”

  “Thank you, Grandmother.”

  She patted Samantha’s arm. “Let’s not make a habit of this.”

  As Samantha took his arm and led him to the garden, he relaxed. The wet air and dreary light only furthered his miserable mood. The lovely flowers couldn’t even touch him with their beauty or inviting fragrance. The duchess’s death and the conversation with Braiden disturbed him more than he cared to admit.

  He had many sins he needed to atone for, and perhaps enduring a miserable marriage to keep the barony prospering was his payment. Breathing became difficult.

  “You seem sad.” Samantha lightly rubbed his arm. “What is wrong?”

  Forcing himself to smile, he
stopped and faced her, knowing they were a fair distance away from onlookers. She shone gloriously, like a ray of sunlight bursting through the darkness. His heart swelled as if healed by simply basking in her glow. Although she didn’t love him, he couldn’t imagine being as miserable with her as Braiden was with his wife.

  Desperate to obtain some kind of emotion from her, he slid his hand along her soft cheek and drew her lips toward his. She wound her arms around him, pressing her body close. Requiring something different from her, he kept the pace sedate, content to lavish attention on her slowly.

  Her lips were sweet and her body warm. When the breeze brushed against them, it brought the exotic bouquet of flowers to mix with Samantha’s clean scent. As she slipped her hands under his waistcoat, spikes of pleasure pierced him. When she moved lower, he knew he had to stop her.

  Frustration bubbled within him as he peered into her hurt eyes. He loved her and couldn’t handle meaning nothing more than a means of release to her. He wanted more. He needed more. He deserved more.

  “You have no idea what you do to me,” he admitted, running a finger down the side of her face. “I’ve never desired anyone this strongly.”

  “Then why did you stop me?” Her confusion said more than he cared to hear.

  “That isn’t why I came today.”

  She nodded. “I know my grandmother thought that was why you were here, and she wasn’t pleased about it.”

  Shock reverberated through him. “She knew and allowed us alone regardless? Does that mean she approves of me?”

  Red crawled up Samantha’s face. “Not of you being here or of . . . Well, she let’s just say she harbors no issue with me enjoying male companionship.”

  The way she so offhandedly referred to their relationship made his teeth clench. The urge to shake her overtook him. Why didn’t she understand? She should be seeking marriage, not a night of pleasure.