Chapter Eleven

December 20, 1818

Harding House

Manchester Square, Mayfair

London

“Uh, the sapphire superfine jacket this afternoon, if you please, Burton,” Cornelius told his valet as he put the finishing touches to an intricate knot in his cravat. It was a task of his toilette he enjoyed doing himself at times, for it allowed him to focus his mind on the puzzle and that prevented him from being lost in a day terror. “It will pair well with the silver waistcoat.”

Of which he’d already donned. It was his only concession to the season with the white embroidered snowflakes on the silver satin.

“Of course, my lord.” Moments later, the red-haired man brought the garment into the bedchamber where Cornelius attached his cuffs and collar. “Is there a special reason why you’ve requested this jacket today?”

“Not truly.” Except the color reminded him of the dark blue ring around Samantha’s irises. “Just felt like wearing that hue.”

“Ah.” Burton held it up for him to shove his arms into the sleeves. “You seem as though your spirits are quite lifted today. Is there a reason for that? Perhaps you are rubbing along well with Miss Marchington?”

“Cheeky, aren’t you?” But he didn’t mind the teasing from his friend. “As a matter of course, yes, Miss Marchington does have much to do with it. The past few days have been… interesting.” And all manner of rubbing had been quite pleasurable.

After he’d left her home yesterday, his life hadn’t felt real. It had been ages since his steps had been so light or his mind so clear. Had he been a nodcock because he’d bedded her yesterday in her family’s parlor while her father had napped upstairs? Perhaps, but that time with her, seeing her sans clothing and knowing she trusted him enough to do intimate things to her had affected him more deeply than he’d anticipated.

Slowly, she was burrowing her way beneath his skin and under the wall he’d erected around his heart, and what was more, it didn’t pain him as much as he’d previously thought.

“That is encouraging news.” As Burton took a brush to the arms of the jacket in order to remove lint, he said, “What is the state of the engagement at this time?”

Cornelius frowned. “There is not much to tell. Things are progressing as expected.”

Surprise jumped into the valet’s eyes. “But they are progressing? When we last spoke regarding your engagement, you were adamant that the two of you remain separate. Enemies, almost, and you had accused her of stealing your aunt’s bracelet.”

“Yes.” Heat sneaked up the back of his neck. “Which was true at the time. Since then, I have had cause to ponder a bit and don’t truly believe she is a thief.”

“Mmm.” Burton left off with the sleeves. After he stowed the brush into a velvet lined case, he crossed the room to retrieve Cornelius’ recently shined boots. “Have you and she found common ground?”

“We have, I think.”

“Have you kissed her?”

“What difference does that make?” While a hint of annoyance stabbed through his chest, he had wished to keep that information to himself, for it was personal and he didn’t want it sullied from gossip.

“It doesn’t, I suppose. Just making conversation,” the valet said with a wink. “However, since you are my friend, I would like to see you finally happy in your life.”

“I appreciate that.” Cornelius put his foot into the boot Burton held. “And yes, I have kissed her. A couple of times.” The other man didn’t need to know how many times during each session he’d kissed Samantha nor that yesterday’s kisses had led to carnal satisfaction.

“What an interesting but unanticipated development,” the valet said, and there was heavy sarcasm and teasing in his voice.

“Do shut up.” Cornelius couldn’t help his grin as he shoved his other foot into the second boot. “We both know the engagement isn’t serious nor is it permanent.”

“Is that ‘we’ you and I, or is it you and her?” One of Burton’s red eyebrows rose. “Because I think ‘we’ think one thing when something else entirely is going on, and whether ‘we’ want to or not, ‘we’ should consider the possibility that a relationship is brewing. Additionally, it might be exactly the thing one of us needs.”

Though the logic was a bit difficult to follow, he got the gist of it. “Again, shut up, Burton. Suffice it to say Miss Marchington and I are… What we have between us is… That is to say, she and I have… Bloody hell.” After yesterday, everything had changed, just as he’d alluded to when he’d tried to talk her out of the coupling.

Except, it didn’t feel like the looming disaster he’d originally assumed. Damn it all to hell and back. This engagement is becoming exactly what he hadn’t wanted for his life, and what was more, he suspected that his heart wasn’t as frozen as it had been even a year ago.

“If there is nothing else, my lord? I’ll leave you to your own devices.” When the valet stood back from him, amusement danced in his eyes. “By the by, where are you off to this afternoon?”

“I am going to call on Miss Marchington.”

A knock on his open door showed the butler in the corridor.

“One of the footmen has stowed the evergreen branches and pine boughs in your carriage, my lord. If you are ready to depart, the vehicle is at the curb.”

Cornelius nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be down directly.” When the butler departed, he glanced at the valet, who tried to bite back a grin. “What?”

“ You are taking Christmas greenery to the home of your fiancée who really isn’t your fiancée? You, the man who hasn’t celebrated the holiday with fondness in four years and hasn’t let a woman close in the same length of time?” Incredulity rang in his tone.

The heat on his neck intensified. “I promised her father we would decorate his home, and since that man is rapidly losing his facilities, I didn’t see the harm in it.” Without waiting for a reply, he stormed from the room.

Yet he wasn’t all that upset about being the one to deliver the greenery. Oddly enough, he looked forward to helping Samantha make the drawing room festive for her father.

I am the biggest fool in London.

No. 6 Birch Place

Portman Square

Marylebone, Mayfair

London

After arriving at Samantha’s home, the butler told him that Miss Marchington had run out to the orphanage. She’d apparently wished to drop off the donation money she’d collected thus far as well as a few supplies.

“When do you think she might return?” he asked as he handed off his outerwear and gloves.

“Oh, I should think any time. These days, she doesn’t like to leave Mr. Marchington alone by himself for long periods.”

Cornelius frowned. “Surely, he isn’t by himself. You and the other servants are here.”

“It is Sunday, my lord. Most have the day off, but each Sunday, one of us stays back to take a shift and look after Mr. Marchington to prevent him from harming himself when he sinks into the past.”

Slowly, the direness and fretfulness of Samantha’s existence became starkly clear, and his chest tightened. “Thank you, Niles. I have brought Christmas greenery. It’s in my carriage. Since there is no one else, I’ll try and catch my driver to help bring it in.”

“That would be helpful. Miss Marchington mentioned this morning about the decorating. I brought a couple of boxes down from the attics. They are currently outside the drawing room.” The older man shrugged. “I didn’t want Mr. Marchington to root around in them and potentially injure himself.”

“Good man.” He laid a gentle hand on the butler’s shoulder. “I’ll return soon with the greenery.”

Twenty minutes later, the two burlap sacks full of fragrant pine cuttings had been deposited in the drawing room where Samantha’s father was in his customary chair, dozing.

After a loud snore, the man woke. Immediately his gaze fell to Cornelius. He looked at him in confusion for a few seconds, then clarity returned. “Lord Timelbury. What a lovely surprise. Where’s my daughter?”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Marchington. Samantha had to run out, but she’ll return shortly. I came to call, and we are set to decorate the drawing room for Christmas,” he explained as he settled on a low sofa near the other man’s chair.

“Ah, then it’s just us men.” Apparently, that delighted him, for he cackled with laughter and grinned wide enough to show that he was missing a few teeth in his lower jaw. “Sam is always nagging me to have visitors, and I’ll wager she nagged you about the decorations, so we’ll both rout her today, together.”

“To be honest, your daughter doesn’t nag me. I was simply following through on a promise.” If the man was lucid, Cornelius wouldn’t know the difference, for he didn’t know him that well. “And I want her to trust me.” He heaved out a breath. “When we first met, I’m afraid I didn’t make that good of an impression.” Why he thought to confess that to her father, he couldn’t say.

“She probably didn’t like that, the older man said with another grin. “She’s got a quick temper and has lost patience of late.”

“Yes, well, that’s understandable. She has much on her mind.”

The major nodded. “It’s true. My girl has had a hard time of it. Never was the same when she lost her mother four years ago.”

“She mentioned that in passing but didn’t speak much on the subject.”

“It was a difficult time in her life, losing her mother and her sister on the same day.” He tapped a hand on the arm rest of his chair and then pulled the blanket covering his lower half higher up on his person. “I think she’s shoved it down so she won’t feel hurt again, but I do that to her every day.”

“How so?”

His shrug lifted his slight shoulders. “I’m ailing. Must be a nodcock to think I’m not.” He tapped a temple with a gnarled finger. “Mind’s going more and more.” Then his eyes narrowed. “You look like you’ve seen a fight or two. Brain’s going to scramble if you’re not careful.”

“I’m not too worried about it, but just know your daughter is safe with me.”

“Oh, I know it. Girl’s positively giddy when she tells me about her outings with you.”

“Ah.” How interesting. When silence lapsed between them, he hadn’t the faintest clue about what to do. “What sort of girl was your daughter?”

“Sharp as a tack and could always hold her own.”

For the next half hour, the older man regaled Cornelius with stories of Samantha and her sister when they were little girls. It was a fascinating insight into her past, and helped him to understand the woman she was.

“Has Samantha always had a heart for charity? She doesn’t speak often of the orphanage.”

“She wouldn’t. No more humble a person out there than my Sam. Says charity shouldn’t be something one brags about, for that isn’t what it’s about, but she has more or less been that way. Always helping in some capacity. Never could bear to see someone suffering.” A slow grin snaked over his face. “That girl would rather go to sleep at night knowing she made someone else’s life better. Some days, I think she would work herself to the bone, sacrifice herself without a second thought if it meant someone else could sleep in peace that night.”

“Somehow, I’ll wager she learned that from you,” Cornelius said in a low voice. Military men were like that. Always sacrificing and giving, never expecting anything in return.

“I’d like to think that, but she has a lot of her mother in her, which makes her difficult to control at times.”

“Women like Samantha aren’t meant to be controlled, Major.” Suddenly, he was humbled to know her. “If you want the honest truth, she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known.” Every day that went by showed him something else about her that left him gasping for breath in one turn and wanting to praise her from the rooftops with another.

“I expect so. Those types of revelations knock us upside the head and tilt our worlds, eh?”

“Very much so.”

“Well, my Sam won’t ever complain. Charity work keeps her busy. It eases the burden of being a spinster and having a limp. She’s a real brick of a girl.”

Cornelius frowned. Did the man not know that by having the heart she did, she would always feel guilty about leaving him, and in that way, her life would never be her own? It didn’t matter that she’d gone into that silver cage willingly, there was no escape. “ Do things bother her?” Suddenly, he wanted to rescue her from all this and show her how beautiful life could be for her. Truly.

“Don’t know. She doesn’t say as much. Rather ask me about my day.” He rubbed a hand along the side of his face. “I think she’s always wanted to be a mother. That’s why she enjoys spending time at the orphanage. Breaks her heart to see the babes abandoned by their mamas, but this world isn’t kind to the unwed women or ones wed to bounders.” The older man shook his head. “When her sister died, some of her ambition left her. Didn’t want to spend time in society much. Perhaps that’s driven her to charity.”

God, Samantha deserved so much more than she’d been given.

No more was said between them, for she came into the room with apologies on her lips, but interest in her eyes when they told her they’d been having a grand time talking.

“Your fiancé listens well and is respectful. A real solid choice, girl. You did well for yourself,” her father said with a nod.

“Thank you, Papa. I’m glad you approve. I ordered some tea. Cornelius and I will decorate the room for you.” When she glanced at Cornelius, he made a point to grin and usher to the sofa where he’d been sitting.

“We didn’t say anything bad, of course. Just about how we both are grateful to have you in our lives.”

“How lovely.” When she offered a smile, he was certain his world shifted a bit. “It’s a good thing the two of you are getting along.”

Eventually, the butler brought in a tea service, and Samantha poured out with all the grace of a duchess. It was quite a domestic scene, one in which Cornelius unexpectedly enjoyed far more than he probably should have.

By the time he and Samantha began decorating the drawing room, her father was in full celebration attitude, for he entertained them with embarrassing stories from his younger days that had them both laughing. Cornelius did the same, and more laughter ensued. Never had he laughed or smiled so much that his cheeks and sides hurt, but here he was, indulging in the domestic bliss of a holiday gathering, and it hadn’t made him melancholy at all.

He wiped away a trace of tears at the corners of his eyes. “…and that is why a man should always wear small pants beneath breeches.”

Another round of guffaws followed the conclusion of the story.

The major slapped a knee. “You’re good for the gel, Lord Timelbury. Never heard her laugh so much as she did today. Make sure you keep her in good humor.”

Samantha shook her head. “I’m never disagreeable, Papa.”

Her father snorted. “Sure, my girl.” Then, it was as if a switch flipped inside the man. He went pale and he glanced between them with confusion. “I want to go lie down. Don’t really care for all this ruckus.”

Some of the gaiety faded from the afternoon.

“All right, Papa. I’ll escort you upstairs.” When she met Cornelius’ eyes, he offered a small smile of support. Clearly, the responsibilities resting on her shoulders were heavy.

A quarter of an hour later, she rejoined him as he finished drinking his tepid tea. He scrambled to his feet as she came into the room, and he had to admit, the simple dress of navy suited her body and set his mind headed into wicked places, especially when his gaze briefly dropped to her bosom. “I should probably leave you to your day.”

“Why?” A frown tugged at the corners of her lips, and all he wanted to do was kiss her again. “You’re welcome to stay.” A blush stained her cheeks. “I wouldn’t mind admiring our handiwork with you by my side.”

Well, damn. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be sucked further into the domestic scene, which could prove dangerous to his peace of mind. “Thank you but that is far too tempting.”

“Why?” When she closed the distance between them, he reminded himself to behave.

It was difficult, so he grinned instead. “Because I’ve rather enjoyed being here with you and your father. It took me back to a simpler time in my own life, one where nothing mattered except who was in my company, where I could almost forgive my own father for being less than I wanted—needed him—to be.”

Why the hell did he feel the urge to share such things with her?

“I’m sorry your parents weren’t the most loving toward you and your sister.” When she drifted close enough to rest a hand on his arm, the floral scent of her teased his nose. Awareness skipped over his skin. “I’m glad you were here today and caught Papa when his mind was sharp.”

“So am I.” Daring much, he tucked an escaped lock of her hair behind her ear then allowed his fingers to drift along her cheek, the side of her neck. “You are fetching in that dress.”

“Such gammon,” she whispered but there was pleasure in her eyes. “It’s a few years old and quite out of style.”

“That doesn’t matter.” He took her hand, raised it to his lips, and then kissed the back. “If I stay, I’ll linger here, which will lead to kissing, and you already know where that can go.” Feeling far too cheeky, he winked.

“As if that is such a bad thing?” But the blush in her cheeks after what they’d already done together was adorable. “Perhaps you’re right, though. I should have a bath in any event while Papa is napping and doesn’t need supervision.”

Immediately, his mind jumped to an image of her lounging in a porcelain tub of rose-scented water with lather from a soap bar clinging to her breasts… Quickly, Cornelius shook his head. “Right. Shall I see you tomorrow, then?”

“If there is time, of course.” She shrugged, but her gaze dropped to his mouth, and damn if interest didn’t shudder through his length. “Your sister sent over an invitation this morning for me to spend the afternoon with her tomorrow.”

“Why the devil would Annabelle do that?”

“Perhaps she heard about our engagement and wants to come to know me.” Those expressive eyes of her showed a trace of apprehension. “I’m looking forward to meeting her. I suppose if we return early enough you and I can share tea.”

“Very well.” Oddly enough, he wasn’t pleased that his time with her would be cut short. “Barring that, perhaps you and I go on a drive afterward or even have dinner together.”

Her whole face lit when she smiled. “I would enjoy that.”

“So would I.” Surely, he wasn’t beginning to fall for her.

That would prove the greatest folly, wouldn’t it?