“Your grandfather named you?”
“Yes, there was no one else willing to give me a fitting name.”
“What of your mother?” Sam inquired in a whisper as another carriage rolled past without slowing for a greeting. “Did she not have a name selected before your birth?” His faraway look returned. “I do not mean to pry.”
“It is all right, Samantha,” he said, but the heaviness did not leave him. “My mother barely noticed she was pregnant once she learned of my father’s death. She did not leave her bed…she barely ate…and conversed with no one. So, if she had selected a name for me, she voiced it to no one before she fled shortly after my birth. She stayed long enough for a portrait to be painted depicting her and me, but then her attention quickly turned to other…things.”
“That is horrible.” And not so far from her own story, though it was her father who’d abandoned her mother. “I do not mean to bring up such delicate matters.”
He led the horses to the side of the carriage path and pulled them to a stop, tying the reins to the wooden peg next to him before shifting to face her. Sam did not dare look around to see if they’d garnered the attention of anyone. Everything faded with his eyes trained on her.
“You are the first person I’ve told of the circumstances surrounding my birth,” he confided. “My servants are aware. Possibly even Lord Cartwright has an inkling, but I have told no one. Not even my classmates at Eton.”
“Why tell me?” They’d shared a few brief moments of intimacy but never had she expected that to lead to a confession of his most private secrets. “Do not misunderstand, I am grateful you think so much of me as to share this…but…”
He took her gloved hands in his, his stare never wavering. “I trust you, Samantha. Since my grandfather passed away, you are the closest thing to a friend I have found. I believe stumbling upon you on that deserted road was fate; it was meant to bring us together.”
A heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Elijah had been her distraction, something to take her focus off her father’s reappearance and to keep Lord Gunther at bay. It had hurt greatly when he’d departed Hollybrooke without a farewell, but fate?
Certainly, their association had naught to do with any lasting entanglement, least of all fate.
“I do not understand, my lord.”
“Sam, I left Hollybrooke to allow you the opportunity to connect with your father; something I have longed to do with my mother but have been denied.”
“What would lead you to believe I would ever want to connect with my father?” she hissed. “He abandoned Jude and me. He left my mother with not a single look back after discovering she had the misfortune of birthing a girl…and twin girls at that. He left us to live barely above poverty while he wed his proper bride and tried for an ideal family.” Sam chuckled, not her usual deep, throaty laugh but a manic cackle. “Imagine his misfortune to discover his wife was not a broodmare able to give him an heir and a spare, let alone a daughter.”
“My presence was a distraction, everyone knew that.”
“Who is everyone?”
“Your family—“
“My family?” she asked. “Did my family request you leave without saying goodbye?”
He shook his head. “They did outline the reasons I should depart; however, it was entirely my decision to leave immediately.”
He had only been a distraction for her…that is what they’d agreed upon.
Sam hadn’t expected any attachment to develop beyond the physical attraction, which was undeniable. But there was little other explanation as to why she’d insisted on Eli accompanying her on outings. She was back in London. It was far simpler to avoid unwanted attention from men she found not to her liking. Sam wasn’t in need of Elijah to protect her against…what had she expected him to protect her from?
She was a capable woman. She led a decent life. She had a family who greatly cared for her, and she returned that feeling with all of her heart.
But still, she was drawn to Elijah. Longed to have him close—and not only for what he could teach her about pleasure.
“Who bid you leave Hollybrooke?” Sam demanded. “I need to know who would do such a thing. It was Marce—no, Garrett—who stepped in unbidden to try and steer me down a path not of my choosing. Was it not?”
“It was not, Sam, I promise you that.”
“Then whom?” Her voice cracked as she spiraled out of control.
Elijah glanced around before retaking the reins and bidding the horses continue down the path.
She needs must know who in her family would so outwardly betray her without so much as consulting Sam to see where her intentions lay.
“Tell me who, Elijah.” She infused the demand with all the sternness she possessed, her tone strong to let him know he would not get away with keeping the truth from her.
“It was Cartwright; however, he admitted the advice had come from Miss Judith, err, Lady Cartwright.” Elijah cleared his throat when Sam remained silent. “She thought it best I allow you the opportunity to decide if you wanted a relationship with your father. I was a distraction from the serious matter at hand. Which I believed to be true. We both know she was correct.”
Her own twin had done this to her? It seemed impossible Jude would wish such hurt upon Sam. How dare she run off with her new husband and leave Sam alone, even taking Eli from her company.
“…and so you left?” Sam couldn’t keep the sorrow from her voice or her vision focused as it blurred, her head spinning. She shouldn’t have pressed him for an answer. It had taken weeks, but Sam had worked through the hurt of Eli disappearing. It would have been far better not to know the reason for his hasty departure. Maybe even continue to think he’d been called away on important business. It hurt to know the one person who should care for her above all others had sent him away.
But that was no longer true or even possible. Jude had Simon now. Her allegiance belonged solely to her husband, not her twin.
“I think it is time I return you to Craven House.” His shoulders slumped.
“I think that is for the best, my lord.”
Chapter 26
“It was your best interests they were concerned with, Samantha.” Eli kept his hands tight on the reins as he navigated the path leading out of Hyde Park. He had to wonder how his day had taken such an unexpected turn. She’d been all smiles and laughter until discovering his reason for departing Derbyshire. However, how could she be angry with her sister? It had been he who had left without saying goodbye. He had made a promise to her that he hadn’t stayed long enough to fulfill. “If you seek to be angry with someone, it should be me.”
Elijah longed to pull her close once more, her fingers tangling in his hair and the scent of her surrounding him. Anything but the sight of the woman next to him presently, her shoulders bent forward as she wrapped her arms around herself and stared off into the distance…focusing on nothing.
He turned onto the main street leading back toward Craven House. The time of day was not late, and most of society was shopping, promenading around one of the many parks in London, or making their rounds of social calls, thus leaving the streets less crowded than any other time of the day. They passed several carriages and men on horseback, but not so many as to slow their travel.
Eli had the horses at a solid trot as they moved through town.
He stared straight ahead but risked several glances in Sam’s direction. She alternated between focusing on something in the distance and picking at the stitching of her overcoat.
The need to comfort her drew him; however, Eli was conflicted on how to soothe the pain he’d caused.
“Miss Samantha!” a male voice shouted behind them. “Samantha!”
Eli glanced over his shoulder to see the raven-haired man who had escorted Sam from the ballroom two nights prior. Though he was curious about him, Eli’s jaw clenched with jealousy as the man shouted for Sam’s attention once more.
“Do you wish m
e to stop?” Eli asked
She turned slightly and glanced behind them to the man creating the commotion.
“Lord Proctor,” she hissed, flipping back around, her shoulders straightening. “I most certainly do not wish you to stop, my lord.”
“We may not be able to avoid it,” Eli said, throwing another look over his shoulder before flipping the reins. “His carriage is picking up speed, and he will be alongside us before long.”
“Then for heaven’s sake, let us increase our pace, as well.”
“I am uncertain this phaeton can go any faster.”
“It is a blasted phaeton, it is meant for speed, my lord,” she shouted, grabbing for the reins. “Give the horses their heads and let us outpace Lord Proctor.”
He wanted to question her reasoning, but when she took control of the horses and flipped the lead, they went from a trot to a full gallop. The horse directly in front of Eli bucked slightly, unhappy with the sudden change in pace.
“Miss Samantha,” he called, grasping the bar beside him. “I do not think this safe—or prudent—on a busy London street.”
“Where is your sense of adventure, my lord?” she shouted over the pounding of hooves.
At the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, not far from the Chesapeake Bay. Eli bit his tongue to stop the words from escaping. There was only so much he was willing to share with Sam. The true depths of the guilt he felt over his grandfather’s death wasn’t something he was ready to share with anyone, least of all Sam. He’d generously admitted a speck of the fault that plagued him, however, it would only serve to lessen the purity of his remorse to speak of the weight with another. Maybe one day…but that was not at present.
Instead, Eli hooked his boots under the front edge of the conveyance and held on as they careened around a corner, narrowly missing a cart heaped with coal. He had no idea how Sam kept her seat as the carriage swayed and jostled.
“The bloody fool is still trailing us,” Sam shouted.
The wind from their speed had sent her bonnet from her head, and it hung down her back. With each moment that passed, more of her hair came loose and flew behind her. Even her eyes shone like he’d never seen before.
They were alight with…life.
Adventure.
The thrill of danger.
“Turn there,” Eli shouted, recognizing the wide road leading toward the countryside. Certainly, the man would not chase them from the city. “Why does he seek your attention so?”
She glanced quickly in Eli’s direction, and her smile wobbled. “We shared a brief conversation at the ball the other evening. That is all. He likely seeks to continue our discussion.”
“And you do not wish for that?” His brow rose.
The road before them cleared as they traveled from the well-maintained city roads to the wood-packed, rutted roads leading out of London proper. The phaeton hopped and bounced on the uneven surface.
They needs must slow down before anything disastrous occurred.
“Lord Cartwright will be cross with me if I damage his conveyance, Sam.”
“Then let us pray Lord Proctor gives up his chase soon.”
They bumped and jostled down the path, passing several men on horseback and a wagon hauling fruit to the market.
“He is falling behind,” Eli shouted. “Do slow down.”
“Not until he is out of sight.”
They rounded another bend, and the phaeton let out a loud crack as the ride became ever rougher.
“Something is not right.” Eli leaned over the side of the phaeton as they slowed to see a wooden plank protruding from the underside of the carriage. “Blast it, I think we broke the axel.”
“The what?” Sam inquired, her eyes widening. “Is it easily fixed?”
“I haven’t much experience with carriage repairs, but we certainly will be stuck here if I am unable to mend it.” They came to a stop, and Eli jumped down from the phaeton and assisted Sam with doing the same before they both squatted to see the damage done to the underside of the vehicle. “It is a wonder the wheel did not fall off entirely. As much as my pride hurts to admit this, I think this is far beyond my level of skill with repairs.”
Eli straightened, brushing the dust from his trousers. A glance in both directions showed him that they were alone—not another carriage in sight.
“At least we lost Lord Proctor,” he mumbled. “Why would the man go to such great lengths to gain your attention?”
She shrugged, digging the toe of her slipper into the soft dirt at the side of the path.
“Very well,” he said. “Keep your secrets.”
Her eyes rounded, and she stomped her foot. “I am doing no such thing. The man is a nuisance, and I have no interest in associating with the scoundrel.”
Scoundrel? Eli raised his brow at her venom.
“Shall we?” He held out his arm.
“Shall we what?”
“Well, it is either we sit here and await nightfall—there are still animals hunting, even so close to London—or we start walking and hope to gain a ride from a passing carriage.” He jiggled his arm. “Either way, it is unsafe to wait here where a highwayman could happen upon us and rob us blind.”
“Do not fear, my lord,” Sam said with a laugh. “I will defend your honor.”
“I would expect nothing less since it is your fault we are in this predicament to begin with.”
She slipped her arm into his. “My fault?” They fell into step alongside one another as she pondered his words. “If you hadn’t stopped to collect me along the road in Derbyshire, I don’t believe we would be in our present situation.” She stared up at him, eyes full of laughter as she attempted to keep a serious expression.
“Very true,” he conceded, stepping around a gaping hole in the road. “I should have left you to the storm. You likely would have succumbed to the elements and either floated away with the rain or froze by the roadside. I can now see the merit in that course of action.”
“You would not have dared!” she stammered.
“And if I had?” he countered.
“I certainly would not have blamed you. I am a handful. My family can attest to that.”
“Will you do me a favor?” He squeezed her arm.
“Depends.”
“Do not blame Lord and Lady Cartwright for what happened in Derbyshire.” He glanced at her, but her loose auburn hair blocked her expression. “They only wished for you to have the chance to mend your relationship with Beauchamp. Besides, we were caught in a position that was not altogether innocent.”
The rumbling of wagon wheels against the rocky road behind them drew Eli’s attention.
They turned in unison to see an empty cart being pulled by a single horse, driven by a farmer, his dirt-streaked face and toothy grin comforting as he stopped alongside them.
“That be ye fancy rig back there?” he called.
“It is, sir,” Elijah answered with his own smile. “I don’t suppose you are headed into London proper and would be willing to allow us a ride in your cart.”
The man, at least thirty years Eli’s senior, looked to his ragged horse and back at his empty cart. “Ye and the missus be stranded?”
“We are.” Elijah shook his head with regret. “I’d planned a lovely picnic in the country with my wife, and our phaeton broke an axel. Barmy mistake I made not checking the thing before leaving town.” He didn’t risk a glance at Sam after referring to her as his wife.
The driver scratched his head. “Well, me own wife only sent me and me son ta town ta collect lumber for the barn repairs. Oh, an’ flour. I left him with ye horses. I suppose she won’t be know’n if’n I give ye a ride as far as the market off Piccadilly.”
“That is perfect.” Sam didn’t wait for the driver to change his mind before moving to take a place in the cart, leaving Eli to follow. “Come, my dear, sweet husband. Our day is not completely ruined, after all. Thank you, kind sir. I am Miss—Lady Ridgefeld, and this is my husband,
Elijah. We will certainly reward you for the transport.”
“I be Ralph, m’lady.” The man removed his hat and nodded his head. “It be a pleasure ta meet the pair of ye, but no coin be needed. I be goin’ that way regardless. When I be pass’n back toward home, I be give’n me son directions ta deliver ye horses safe ’n sound, I will.”
“Well, you are very kind, Ralph—and your son, as well.” Sam smiled her most charming grin, and Ralph blushed as crimson as the sun setting on the far horizon. “My husband and I are very grateful for your assistance.”
Elijah climbed into the cart and settled next to Sam, his wife for the present. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit the sound of his name on her lips—in conjunction with the term husband—did not have him thinking all sorts of wicked thoughts…mainly the idea of making Sam a proper wife, his bride.
Certainly, a courtship between them was developing. Why else would she demand he take her on outings? It would not be long before a conversation with her guardian—was that Marce or Garrett?—would be necessary. He would make his noble intentions known…and pray that Sam’s family approved of him.
Chapter 27
Sam slipped into the house and sighed, quietly closing the door behind her. Her face was still heated from her exciting escapades with Eli. Though he hadn’t claimed his payment kiss, she owed him a huge reward. Leaning against the door, Sam set her fingers against her lips, and her eyes drifted shut as she imagined the kiss to come. She would be bold and wrap her arms around him, maybe slip her hands under his shirt to feel the muscles she knew lay beneath, hidden from view.
Her heartbeat spiked at the thought, and her face likely reddened further.
“Did you just climb out of a cart?”
Sam’s eyes sprang open, and her hand fell to her side.
Marvelous.
She should have insisted Ralph drop them off at the market, which had been their original plan, but the man had insisted on seeing her all the way home.
Her youngest sister, Payton, stood right outside the drawing room, its windows facing the driveway.
The Mistress Enchants Her Marquis Page 22
