Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

A fter several more moments passed, Samantha was quite sure that she could no longer face her new friend. It was far too dangerous; with how she was feeling, it was entirely possible that she would tell her everything, and Samantha's life had been a secret that she hoped to keep for the rest of her life.

It was shameful; she felt shameful. Who in their right mind could possibly love a girl that hated her father so much? Even with how unliked he was, he still had his allies, that much was clear with the fact he had a man lying in wait to take her as his bride.

The garden was far nicer than the room her father had taken her to at least. It was easier, Samantha decided, to name the flowers in Latin that she passed as she walked than it was to stay there a moment longer. There was not anything too difficult to name, for the most part, and she was quite knowledgeable about the subject, having read a book about them before coming to the party. That was when she came to a new flower, purple and large and unlike anything she had read about. She was not even certain of the name in English, and it infuriated her.

She was supposed to be intelligent.

That was why she had never wished to marry. She had hoped that somewhere along the way, women would be allowed to have their scholarly pursuits, and thus she could follow her main dream of becoming a real intellect. It did not appear as though it was coming, though. Even if it was, here she was struggling to name a flower, and she thought that she could change her father's mind, two things rendering her undoubtedly dim.

Her intelligence was the one thing about herself that she had always trusted, and she had to admit to herself that she was wrong. It was too much to bear. Perhaps, she thought, if alcohol helped for a while, perhaps another one of her father's other vices might too.

And so, for the first time in her life, she attacked something out of frustration and kicked a tree.

As with the alcohol, however, the aftereffects made her regret it quite quickly. It hurt terribly, and she instinctively grabbed her foot and whimpered. She must have looked ridiculous, she realized, and even without her secret being revealed, she was not doing her reputation any favors which would only cause her father further anger.

"You certainly are unladylike," a lady's voice came. "Why, I can see why your father loathes you so entirely."

"What do you want, Miss Norton?"

Miss Norton was standing nearby, giggling at her.

"Nothing in particular, Lady Samantha. Believe me, I was not actively seeking you out, for you are not the typical company that I like to keep."

"Likewise."

"You know that is not true. A lady of your background would give anything to be in my circles, and you know it."

"I would rather be known to nobody at all than run in your circles, especially if they are all as self-serving as yourself."

"Those are some rather horrible words from someone that should feel privileged to be here."

"I do not owe you gratitude of any kind. You did not invite me here, and therefore are not my hostess, and so I do not see why I should be grateful to you."

"Perhaps I did not invite you, but you should be grateful for the fact that I have been avoiding you. If the two of us were together, there is no chance that any of the men here would want to marry you."

"I do not wish to marry any of them!" Samantha snapped. "Why is it that you all expect that of me? I do not care about becoming a wife, be it a wife of a prince or of a commoner. There is no man that I love, and so there is no man that I wish to marry. Truly, where is the difficulty in understanding that?"

"Well, if being unmarried is what you wish, then you shall be quite fortunate indeed."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that your father is not being realistic. You know as well as I do that a woman such as yourself should never aspire to a good match, no matter what frivolities you are being fed by your father."

"He does not — Miss Norton, I do not know what you believe you heard, but you are wrong."

It was quite clear to her that Miss Norton had heard her discussion with her father somehow, but she had misunderstood it completely. Her father was not like Miss Norton's parents had been described to her. He did not say anything to her out of kindness or to make things easier. It had only ever been out of malice, but Samantha did not want Miss Norton to know that.

"I am never wrong, Lady Samantha," she smirked. "Especially not about ladies such as yourself. I am good to that awful Penelope out of respect for Lord Drowshire as he is a true gentleman that knows how one should carry themselves, but even then, it would be far better for all of us if she simply remembered her place."

"And what might that place be?"

"As a good little wife to whatever man dares to take her. It is quite simple, really, but I cannot expect much by way of intelligence from you."

"Are you like this with everyone or only ladies?"

"If you mean my disdain, then you must know it has nothing to do with ladies, and everything to do with how some of you act."

"And how might I act?"

Miss Norton scoffed at her, shaking her head as if in utter disbelief.

"You think that you are worthy of a good match, Lady Samantha, and whilst you may not like it, you need to hear this. You are not."

"And why not?"

"Look at you. Your father may be an earl, but he is a drunk and a scoundrel. You have no mother to speak of at all nor a decent father. I remember you from your last London season, as do many of us, and we could not believe that you were granted invitations to those events either. As I heard your father tell you, he has already found a match for you, and so it would be better if you simply accepted his offer of mediocrity and returned home. You are not wanted here, so you should stay away from both Lord Nicholas and the Duke."

"You do not know anything about me."

"I know enough about you to be sure that you are not welcome here."

"What were you saying about the Duke?" A man's voice came suddenly, and for a few seconds, Miss Norton seemed to lose her composure.

"It was nothing, Your Grace," she replied meekly as the Duke of Gloryfield appeared behind Samantha, startling her slightly.

"Are you quite sure? Because I felt as though my ears were very much burning. I thought I was able to see smoke, but I may have been mistaken."

"I assure you that your name was not said."

"In which case, might you tell me which duke it is that Lady Samantha is to stay away from?"

Miss Norton seemed to redden at his words.

"Oh, Your Grace, is that what you were referring to?"

"Yes, and I believe you knew that."

"I — yes, well, it is only because Lady Samantha and I were talking."

"Yes, about myself and my brother."

"Not in any negative way, I promise you that."

"Perhaps not towards my brother and I but certainly towards Lady Samantha, who to my knowledge has been nothing but good to you. Now, you ought to remember that this is not your home, and you are every bit as much a guest as Lady Samantha is, and you should act accordingly. This behavior is highly unbecoming, and it is not the sort that I would like my brother to be engaging with, no matter how much he believes he likes you."

He was being incredibly rude and abrasive, but somehow, Samantha found it more palatable when it seemed to be in her defense.

"What your brother and I have," Miss Norton snapped, "is something that you do not understand, and you never shall. We are both practical people, and we know that it is advantageous on both sides."

"In terms of personality, yes, you are certainly well matched, but that does not signify. I suggest that you keep my name out of your mouth in future. Do you understand me?"

Miss Norton held his gaze for a moment before her lips cracked into a smirk.

"Very well, Your Grace. Believe me, I shall never need to speak your name again, especially after what your brother will announce this evening."

"And what might that announcement be, exactly?"

"Wouldn't you love to know? Unfortunately, I cannot say. Nicholas says you will only attempt to put a stop to it if you find out, and so I am to keep quiet about it which has been so incredibly difficult. You know how much I adore gossip."

"Think about your next words very carefully," he warned.

"Very well, I will," she nodded, smiling politely. "Good day, Your Grace, Lady Samantha."

As she walked away, Samantha felt herself grow angry once more. The Duke's face when he turned to her only made it far worse.

"Lady Samantha, I —"

"Why did you do that?" she asked. "I had it in hand."

"She was being unkind."

"Yes, but what is new there? I shall remind you that you have had a few unkind things to say to me too."

"Yes, but it is different when it is Miss Norton. She is dangerous."

"And an influential duke is not? Truly, it is the birthright of all men to believe so wholly that they know how to handle matters between ladies?"

"Lady Samantha, you do not understand."

"No, of course, I do not. I do not understand anything, do I? I am merely a dim young lady that is floundering around all of you wonderful and high-ranking members of society."

"That is not what I am saying. Miss Norton has the same values as my brother, and trust me when I say that that can only be a bad thing."

"Be that as it may, I am more than capable of handling a smug little upstart such as her. I know you may see me as inexperienced and immature or even opportunistic, but you should think at least a little more highly of me than that. I have handled far worse without the pity of a duke, and that will not change simply because you think it should."

"Lady Samantha, I believe she knows."

That was enough for Samantha to stop. She thought for a moment, trying to work out what she could possibly know that would be so bad, and then she remembered what had happened between them.

"There," he continued. "Now, will you please listen to me?"

"If I have no other choice."

"Very well. Miss Norton is a very opportunistic girl. She is of minor noble birth, but that has not stopped her from trying to go even further. She sees it as ambition, as does my fool of a brother, but the rest of us see it for what it truly is — greed."

"Then why is she here? Lord Drowshire does not seem to be the sort of man to keep such company as her."

"Oliver — Lord Drowshire, told me that he invited her because my brother instructed him to. It was also so that you might have a friend if you thought Lady Penelope was too old."

"So, it is my fault," she sighed.

"No, it is nobody's fault. Why do you always blame yourself?"

"Did you not blame me for things the moment you saw me?"

He seemed to concede that.

"Regardless," he continued, "if I am correct and she and my brother were the ones to send you that note, it means that they are intending to blackmail us, and that means trouble."

"Or ruin," she replied, "which cannot be the worst possible thing to happen to a lady."

He blinked at her in disbelief, but she had meant every word. The more that she thought about it, the more enticing ruin sounded. No man would ever want her, her father would cast her out, and she would be free at last.

Then she thought about how her father could just as easily take her home and have her married before anyone outside of the party heard about it. It was yet another fruitless possibility.

"You truly do not wish to marry, do you?" he asked.

"No more than you do, no. I have plans far bigger than marriage, but my father is determined that I will marry regardless. He has a gentleman in line for me upon my return, so forgive me if I am not thinking clearly. My fate is already put in place, and there is nothing that I can do about it. Ruin is not the worst thing that could happen to me, though, and I mean that completely."

"Even so, I would rather it did not happen thanks to involvement on my part. I will do what I can."

"You do not have to."

"I do," he said firmly, stepping closer to her. "I want to help you. It is the least that I can do after what I have accused you of. Let me at least try."

Samantha wanted to protest and tell him that she would find a way to stop their announcement that evening, but she was distracted by how warm he felt in front of her and how piercing his gaze was as he looked pleadingly into her eyes. He seemed almost desperate to fix everything, and whilst she did not know why, she could not help but believe him.

"Very well," she whispered, "but do not make it any worse. The last thing I need is for you to threaten a lady."

"What sort of gentleman do you think I am?" he asked, "Do not answer that, in fact. Instead, simply trust that I would never threaten a lady."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"I will do one of my least favorite things in the world and have a discussion with my brother."

"Will that even do anything? You make him seem impossible to reason with."

"He is, but I have to at least try," he explained, "Unless…"

"Unless?"

"I have an idea, but you will hate it completely."

"You might as well try. It cannot be much worse than my other prospects."

He seemed to avoid her eyes, and she felt a strange turning in her stomach. Suddenly, she did not want him to speak anymore.

"We could get married."