Chapter Four

December 15, 1818

No. 6 Birch Place

Portman Square

Marylebone, Mayfair

London

Samantha couldn’t help but smile, for her father was having a good day, and for that she was exceedingly grateful.

One never knew what his mind would be like from day to day or even within that same day, so when he was himself, all was well in her world. As she put a teacup into his hand, she bussed his cheek. “I’m glad in a happy attitude. I have another round of canvassing to accomplish this afternoon, but after that, we’ll have a lovely conversation over tea and possibly discuss plans for Christmas.”

He sipped his tea while watching her from his chair near the fireplace. “We can certainly discuss that, but that isn’t what’s uppermost in my mind.”

“Oh?” Quickly, Samantha finished her own tea, for she wasn’t lying when she said she needed to be out of the house. At least the tea would help to keep her insides warm once she went outside.

“What I am currently thinking about is your future.”

“I will be fine. Haven’t I up until this point?” Was it a lonely life at times? Certainly, but it could be twelve times worse.

“No. Listen to me, girl.” He caught her free hand with his and met her gaze. “Please marry that man who keeps coming ‘round wanting to court you. Seems to me he’s your only chance at being a wife and possibly a mother.”

“What?” She frowned. “Mr. Arbuthnot?” When her father nodded, she gawked as if he’d grown two heads. “I don’t find him all that appealing. Yes, he is easy on the eyes, but he isn’t my ideal man for a husband.”

Unfortunately, she had met the gentleman in question at the nearby lending library perhaps a month ago. He had struck up a conversation with her, did some flirting that she’d tried not to return. After that, she’d politely but firmly told him she wasn’t interested in a courtship. He, apparently, was either hopefully determined or stupidly aggressive.

“Beyond that, I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with a man I don’t love.”

“Yet he’s interested in you. The old saying ‘a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush’ is applicable here, I think.”

Briefly, she pointed her gaze at the ceiling before resting it on him again. “Mr. Arbuthnot is of questionable morals. I don’t care for some of his contemporaries. They seem a greedy, shifty lot and make me feel vastly uncomfortable when I’m with them.” It was something she couldn’t explain, and she’d only met a couple of his friends once when they’d congregated outside a shop where she’d been.

“Bah. I don’t know what you are waiting for, so I told him you would welcome a suit from him. I should think he’ll call on you soon.” He nodded with apparent encouragement.

“Oh, Papa.” An annoyed huff escaped her as she laid her cup and saucer on the low table then stood. “I’ve told you I don’t fancy him. Now this has made everything complicated and will be quite embarrassing for all of us.”

When her father stared at her as if he couldn’t remember who she was, her chest tightened in panic. “I don’t remember you saying that.” Surprise lined his face. “Hell, I haven’t talked to you for days, child.”

“No, Papa, I live here, same as I have all my life. We were just now talking over tea.” It didn’t matter that it was frustrating at times bearing witness to his failing faculties, he would never understand it, and she couldn’t blame him. His mind was going, and he had no control over that. Emotions lodged in her throat. It was becoming worse every week that passed. “Well, I need to go canvassing for donations. Will you be all right while I’m gone?”

“Why are you leaving?”

She tried to summon her patience around herself, but it was a difficult and heart-breaking prospect. “I’m raising funds for the orphanage. Remember when I told you about that?”

“I don’t recall any such thing, and it’s scandalous that you are doing this. At your age, you should be married with children.” He shook his head and mumbled to himself, clearly no longer with her in the present.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she patted his arm. “Well, there are other concerns in this world than what you want from my life. I’ll return in a couple of hours.”

“You don’t come to visit me, girl. Miss you,” he said in response.

Fighting off tears, Samantha left the drawing room. When she reached the short entry hall, she accepted her cloak from the butler, who gave her a silent look of compassion, and no sooner than she took her bonnet in hand than there was a knock on the door.

With her lips pursed together, she pulled the wooden panel open ahead of the butler, and then narrowed her eyes to see a man standing there who she recognized from her last call from yesterday. “Lord Timelbury?” Oh, dear. He was even more handsome bundled up on the chilly afternoon and rather dashing in his top hat, red muffler, and dark gray greatcoat. Unfortunately, she was in no mood for banter or conversation. “Did you wish to donate additional funding to the orphanage?” For that matter, how the devil had he found her? She’d never given him her full direction.

“Ha!” The man regarded her with a mixture of incredulity and disgust, but why? “Donate more? Surely, you must be mad.” And he continued to gawk at her. “I’m here because you stole something from me, or rather my aunt.”

“What?” She could fathom what he was on about. “I did no such thing. How dare you accuse me. Now if you don’t mind, I have business away from this house.” When she made to move around him with her bonnet still in hand, he stepped directly into her path and then slammed the door so she couldn’t easily leave.

“Then where is it?” He crossed his arms at his chest and glared while the butler looked on in confusion.

She frowned. “Where is what?” What was happening? Had maggots got into the man’s brain since he was accusing her of something she obviously hadn’t done?

Another huff of frustration escaped him. “The diamond and pearl bracelet! It’s been missing since your visit yesterday, and I distinctly remember you made a point of admiring it on my aunt’s wrist.” His eyes narrowed. “Did you slip it from her person while distracting her with talk about your charity?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, so I will ask that you leave.” The mad was mad, of course. She had never stolen anything from anyone.

“Poppycock. All I know is that the bracelet is missing. You were the last person to see it.”

“I rather doubt that. I’ll wager it was still on her wrist when I left.”

“Then why the hell do you think I’m here?” His voice grew more angry with every word. “She came to my house just now, extremely upset because the bracelet is missing, and she said she’d searched the house. Clearly, it’s gone.”

“Then, by all means, if you think you’re right, go ahead and search my house. You’ll come up empty handed.” She glared. “I am not a thief, and quite frankly, I haven’t the time to be a member of the criminal element, not with everything else that’s been going on.” Then, to her horror, tears welled in her eyes in a quick torrent to spill onto her cheeks.

Obviously, that gave him pause, for he frowned. His gray eyes resembled thunderclouds, and his expression suggested he wouldn’t give quarter. “Miss Marchington, if you think taking refuge in tears will distract me from my investigation, you have no idea how tenacious I can be.”

God, the man was insufferable! Her patience snapped. “Sometimes it’s not about you, you ogre!”

“Like hell it’s not!”

“Enough.” The heat of embarrassment seeped into her cheeks to argue with him in the entryway of her home in front of the butler, who would no doubt run to the servants with the gossip. Then thoughts of her father flooded her brain and made the situation even worse. “You have no idea what it’s like to grieve a loved one who hasn’t even died yet. You watch them day by day deteriorate and know that their mind is slowly leaving them. They don’t always remember you or even the past you’ve shared, and it’s quite difficult.”

“That is neither here nor there, Miss Marchington.” If possible, his scowl deepened. “I worked hard to be able to procure that bracelet for my aunt, and now it’s gone.”

Did the man have no feelings, no compassion? She brushed at the moisture on her cheeks. “Sometimes things don’t go our way and sometimes things are just gone .” She thought about her father’s mind, and how nothing would ever be the same. That she had disappointed him by not marrying well before now. Then she shook her head. “I do not have time for the nonsense you’ve brought to my door, Lord Timelbury. If you don’t mind, I have pressing things to attend.”

“No.”

She stared at him, and so did Niles, the butler. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said no .” Then he went a step beyond propriety and grabbed her free hand. “I am not going anywhere until you return the bracelet.”

This is outside of enough!

“Are you daft?” As she struggled to tug her hand from his, she gawked at him. “I. Don’t. Have. It. Go home, Lord Timelbury, and think about your horrid choices from today.” When he didn’t appear to want to move neither did he release her hand, the remainder of her patience blew away like chaff in the wind. “Quite frankly, a misplaced bracelet isn’t nearly as weighty as everything else I’m currently worried about.”

“I rather think—”

“No.” She shook her head, effectively interrupting him. “A bracelet doesn’t matter, not compared to my father’s mind slipping away to the point that he only remembers me half the time. A bracelet doesn’t matter against being worried about making ends meet or keeping food on the table and having the ability to keep fires going or paying the staff or the taxes.” With each point, she drummed an index finger into his chest, and since she still held the bonnet in her hand, it thumped against his nether region as it hung by the ribbons. “A missing bracelet doesn’t matter when compared to the orphanage that is bursting at the seams with unwanted infants and children, because their parents couldn’t pay for their upkeep. Imagine the horror if that institution were to close. What would become of those children?”

With each new statement, Lord Timelbury’s eyes widened. “I—”

“And to make things even more difficult, Christmastide will be upon us soon, which brings with it memories and a different sort of grief, for nothing will be the same, and once I lose my father fully, I will be alone in this world. So, please, tell me again how any of that is less important than a misplaced bracelet?”

“I suppose when put it such terms it’s not but—”

“And all of this is made even worse by some puffed up, arrogant peer who thinks he knows much more about seemingly everything. A man who has nothing else better to do than bedevil a stranger and—”

“Good God, do shut up.” With a huff, he tugged her close and pressed his lips to hers, no doubt in an effort to stem the flow of her words.

Shock went through her, for she had only been kissed a handful of times in her adult life, but she did cease talking. As she stared up at him—he had a good six inches on her average height—flutters moved through her lower belly. For whatever reason, and for the space of a heartbeat, there was a connection between them, a flash of recognition as if their souls had briefly flared, but then she pulled away. Dropping her bonnet, she used that hand to slap him, hard enough to leave faint marks on his skin.

Lord Timelbury put a hand to his cheek where the outline of her hand was deepening. “Why the devil did you do that?”

Niles retrieved her bonnet and then discreetly moved to the closet where outwear was stored.

Samantha ignored him to concentrate on the man in front of her, and she didn’t answer his question. “Why did you kiss me?”

He shrugged. “Because I’d be here forever if you didn’t shut up and it’s damned cold in this entry hall.”

At least it was the truth, and inside that, there was a touch of humor lurking.

Before she could answer him, the unthinkable happened. Her father came down the stairs. He’d no doubt heard voices and had come to investigate, but when he reached the entry hall with a disoriented expression on his face, his gaze fell on Lord Timelbury and his hand holding hers. Delight crossed her father’s face, as well as excitement, and that was something she’d not seen from him in a very long time indeed.

“What is this, Annie? It’s as if you haven’t the sense God gave a goose. Introduce me to your suitor. He’s different from Mr. Arbuthnot.”

Oh, merciful heavens.

The heat of embarrassment once more seeped into her cheeks, but tears welled again, for the name her father had called her was her mother’s, who had been dead for years.

“I, um… My name is Samantha, remember, Papa?”

Lord Timelbury frowned at her then bounced his gaze between them. “Uh, Mr. Marchington, I really must inform you that—”

“He is you beau? You are a cheeky monkey for keeping this secret.” Her father cackled with laughter. “Now I don’t need to worry over you or your future. You will be taken care of.”

She didn’t need things to be more complicated than they already were. “Papa, this is Lord Timelbury. He was just leaving. There is nothing betwe—”

Once more, the man interrupted her. Unfortunately, it wasn’t with a kiss. “Hello, Mr. Marchington.” Lord Timelbury slowly walked through the entry hall to where her father stood, brazen as a thief. “I’m sorry to keep your daughter in the entry hall, but she wasn’t quite ready to share the happy news, which is why we were having words here.” Then he sent her a speaking glance. “However, since you are here, I’m going to announce it anyway.”

“Oh?” Both of her father’s bushy eyebrows rose up his forehead.

Samantha frowned at him. “This is ridiculous. We aren’t—”

Lord Timelbury silenced her with a look that had storms shadowing his gray eyes. “Miss Marchington has just agreed to be my wife. We are engaged.”

Both Samantha and Niles gasped and stared at him.

“I know, it’s a bit of a shock. It has been for both of us as well.” He gave her a speaking glance then gestured her toward the stairs with her father. “We won’t marry for a while, of course. I need to sort myself, you see, but I wanted you to know she’s no longer a spinster, and she’s promised to help me find a bracelet my aunt lost.” There was a hard note to his voice that sent cold shivers down her spine. “Hopefully sooner rather than later.”

“Marvelous! Let’s go upstairs to celebrate. Deuced cold in this corridor.” Her father led the way up the stairs.

She had no choice but to come abreast of Lord Timelbury. “Oh, well played.” she muttered as she slowly went up the stairs with him. “You bastard.”

A snort preceded his answer. “At least in this way I can keep you close, and I can watch you in the event you try to pawn the bracelet.”

Once in the drawing room, her father gestured Timelbury onto a low sofa.

“Do you plan to take care of my daughter in the manner she deserves?”

A grin curved those sensuous lips, but it was far from kind. “I can promise you that she will have exactly what she deserves, Mr. Marchington. Do not worry on that point.”

Still stewing, Samantha tugged on the bell pull. The last thing her father needed was brandy, so she would order tea to head off potential disaster. How dare Lord Timelbury high handedly think to manage her life! Yet her father was uncommonly happy, and she didn’t want to break his heart by telling him the truth.

What a coil.

After she ordered tea from the footman who answered the ring, she was forced to play the role Lord Timelbury had unexpectedly thrust her into. She settled on the sofa next to him, went so far to as to buss his cheek. The scent of his shaving soap or cologne immediately wafted to her nose and she let herself bask in the scents of sandalwood, cedar, with a hint of pine and orange. “He’s exactly what I’ve ever wanted in a soon-to-be husband.”

“How wonderful,” her father responded with a wide grin.

Beneath her breath to Lord Timelbury, she said, “If you so much as make my father confused or sad or angry or upset, I will make your life so miserable you’ll think you were married.”

“Ah.” But his lips twitched as if he would laugh, but that sound never came.

“Before tea comes, since my daughter apparently doesn’t trust me with brandy these days, I want to see you both share a kiss.” Merriment danced in his faded eyes.

“Uh…” Heat settled into Samantha’s cheeks, but this time not from embarrassment. “How silly, Papa. We would need mistletoe for that, since it’s Christmastide.” Not that she wouldn’t welcome another kiss… but not with this man, not as a part of his foolish notions.

“Clever girl.” Her father shook his head. “I’m sure your fiancé can procure that for you.” In his glee, he rubbed his hands together. “We shall decorate the drawing like we did when you were little. Your mother always liked that…”

Well, drat.

Cold disappointment circled through her gut. She glanced at Lord Timelbury, who shrugged. “I suppose we could do that.” Yet how much would he actually remember or even want when his mind shifted once more? “Don’t you agree…” Oh, dear. At the last second, she remembered his Christian name from yesterday. “…Cornelius?”

“Oh, ah, yes, of course.” But he seemed anything but helpful. A look of annoyance crossed his face, and he frowned at her, rested his gaze on her face, searching for what she couldn’t say.

“Good.” She didn’t say more, for the footman brought in the tea tray.

They could be inconvenienced together, but part of her was relieved that she might not pass the holiday season alone and there would be someone to talk to during the bad days with her father. If Lord Timelbury insisted on this stupid little farce, so be it, but she didn’t need to make it easy on him.

Perhaps.