High Stakes Chattel

by Blue, Andie

  Samantha saw the love between the couple right away. Bellamy was a tall, handsome fellow with sandy blond hair and green eyes. Charlotte was much shorter and darker than him, and dressed in a beautiful peach-colored gown.

  To Nico’s relief, they greeted her warmly, and Charlotte immediately took her under her wing, pouring her a glass of wine and asking pointed yet interested questions.

  “She’s as lovely as you said,” Bellamy said in a low voice as they watched the ladies talk.

  “Yes. And she’s very unique,” Nico agreed. He’d never met anyone like her, and he enjoyed looking at her from a distance.

  “What are your intentions toward her?” Bellamy asked, one brow raised in speculation. “I’ve never known you to take a mistress, let alone have one live with you so openly.”

  “She’s not my mistress,” Nico snapped, struggling to keep his voice low. He supposed that technically there was no other word for his relationship with Sam, but he didn’t like to hear her called that for some reason.

  “No?” Bellamy gave him a wry smile. “Alright. No need to bite my head off. A man would have to be blind not to see that you care for her.”

  “I do care,” Nico admitted. “Hell, I don’t know what I’m doing, truth be told. I just can’t seem to stay away from her.”

  Bellamy patted him on the back. “Well, just be careful.”

  Nico quaffed his brandy and walked over to the table. “Shall we be seated?”

  The women joined them at the table, and he was pleased to have Samantha seated at his left. Joseph brought out the first course, a delicious seafood stew that Samantha ate with as much restrain as she could manage.

  Nico asked Samantha to recount her adventures at the Chattel contest and she complied, making light of the darker, more dangerous moments and focusing on the second place win.

  “How wonderful,” Charlotte exclaimed, her blue eyes sparkling as she looked approvingly at Samantha. “You know, I’ve always been able to beat Bellamy at the game, though I’m sure he’d never admit it. Perhaps I should don a disguise and join you at the next tournament.”

  Sam laughed, meeting Nico’s gaze with delight as she obviously pictured the lovely Countess of Bellamy dressed as a boy. “It would be a wonderful lark. You’re more than welcome to join me any time.”

  Nico’s smile slipped a bit, wondering if she’d truly given the prospect of joining another Chattel tournament any thought. He had been horrified to hear about the way she’d been attacked last time, and didn’t want her to ever be driven to such an act of desperation again.

  Unfortunately, her choices were very limited and he could see her resorting to such measures in order to keep from having to rely on him for support.

  She gave him a questioning look, obviously sensing his change of mood. Luckily, Charlotte drew her attention with another funny comment and the moment passed.

  The following courses included a succulent cherry duck, roasted root vegetables and flaky pastry. Samantha hoped she was eating everything correctly and not in her normal abundant fashion.

  “The food is delicious as always, Nico.” Charlotte winked conspiratorially at Sam. “I’m going to steal your cook away one day.”

  “I think she likes cooking for the eccentric, lone bachelor. Your volume of parties would make my quiet, peaceful Mrs. Lotte go mad.”

  “Well, you won’t always be a bachelor, so it’s only a matter of time until I can sweep in and make her an offer she can’t refuse,” Charlotte said with another wink.

  “Maybe,” Nico said and found himself unconsciously looking over at Samantha who was busy folding her napkin.

  Nico knew he had to make a decision about his relationship with Sam, and he had to do it soon.

  “If you are through, Samantha, we could go for a stroll in the garden and you could tell me about yourself.” Charlotte stood up and held out her hand invitingly.

  “That sounds lovely,” Samantha said, glad to leave the table and go outside. It was a beautiful summer evening and the air was still quite warm.

  The two women walked and talked at first about Nico’s garden. It was overflowing with fragrant and colorful flowers, as well as whimsical sculptures.

  “Nico’s mother chose many of the plantings herself,” Charlotte marveled. “She loved to walk out here.”

  “You knew Nico’s mother?” Samantha was surprised at the envious feelings this brought up in her.

  “Yes, she was a friend of my mother. We came to visit often,” Charlotte recalled with a wistful smile. “This was after Nico had gone off traveling.”

  The conversation soon turned to Charlotte’s mother, who had passed away the previous year. Charlotte shared a bit of her grief with Samantha.

  “Nico told us that your mother’s health is fading. Is that right?” Charlotte inquired, her expression full of concern.

  “Yes. She doesn’t recognize me anymore.” Samantha stifled a sob.

  “You are doing the right thing, going to be with her, no matter how difficult it will be,” Charlotte said with a tear in her eye.

  By the time they returned to the house, the two women were well on their way to becoming friends.

  At daybreak the next morning, Nico, Samantha and John all met in the barn. John had packs on the horses already and stiffly explained all the gear to Samantha. Most of their journey would be across rough terrain, so they had all the food and water they would need, as well as overnight packs and bedrolls.

  “Please don't do this,” John implored Samantha when Nico was out of earshot. “You deserve better.”

  “I know you don’t approve,” Samantha told him sadly. “I’m sorry, John. I'm going.”

  He gave her one last pleading look as he helped her up on her horse.

  Sam and Nico rode off into the dark, both quiet at first. Streaks of lavender and magenta painted the eastern sky, and though it was a bit chilly, Sam enjoyed the ride immensely. She and Nico could have been the only two people in the world. She wished that they were. All the obstacles between them stemmed from outside forces beyond her control.

  She had to go home and take care of her mother. Her conscience wouldn’t let her do otherwise, even though her mother would never know whether she was there or not. Still, she feared that once she left, this thing between them would come to an end. Would they just drift apart? Was it only a physical attraction for him? Surely he’d soon find someone of his class, someone like Lady Morgan and forget all about her. Should she tell him she loved him as Jolene had suggested? Just thinking about that made her sweaty and nervous. Yet the secret burned within her, fighting to get out.

  If she told him how much she cared, his response would tell her everything she needed to know. Unfortunately, there was a very good chance that the answer wouldn’t be the one she wanted, so she continued to put it off. Right now, she needed hope to keep her going. She didn’t want to know the truth. Not yet.

  Two hours into the ride they stopped for a rest to give the horses some water and break their fast with fresh bread and cheese.

  “How did you meet your friend the Earl?” Sam asked curiously as they ate, figuring that was a safe topic of conversation.

  Nico grinned and leaned back on his elbows, as relaxed as Sam had ever seen him. “Our parents were friends. His estate is very close to Bentley Park so we basically grew up together from childhood.”

  “I can picture that. Only I can’t quite guess who would be the bossier one out of the two of you.” Samantha’s eyes sparkled as she teased Nico.

  “Obviously, me, you trouble-maker.” Nico gave her a roguish smile. When he looked at her that way it made her want to jump on top of him and strip off all of his clothes.

  “I probably never would have come up with Chattel if not for Bellamy,” Nico said. “Even as young boys, our favorite form of entertainment was making up games to play. We’d take turns inventing the game and the rules, and we were constantly trying to one up each other.”

  Samantha laughed
. “So you came up with the ultimate game. Chattel.”

  He smiled. “Yes, when it caught on so quickly, even Bellamy had to admit I’d won.”

  Sam finished her bread and leaned against him companionably. “Was he angry?”

  Nico shook his head and put his arm around her. “No. He was happy for me. We had so much fun in the beginning, playing Chattel and traveling.”

  “I’m glad you have someone like that in your life.” Sam spoke truthfully. “I think everyone needs a friend who has known them their whole life. Someone who knows your past and understands why you do the things you do.” She sensed Bellamy was very like Jolene in that he would always support Nico, no matter what he thought of the plan. He’d brought his wife to dinner with someone they must think of as little better than a whore, just to make Nico happy. That was nice.

  “We even went to a brothel together when we were sixteen, intending to lose our virginity together.” Nico gave a short laugh. “I couldn’t go through with it though.”

  “Why?” Sam asked curiously.

  He squeezed her tightly, then pushed to his feet and began packing up the food. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Of course.” Sam got up too and folded the blanket they’d been sitting on. She liked that he was opening up to her like this.

  “I was a pretty sensitive kid,” he said, once they’d mounted their horses and continued on their way. “It just felt sad to me.”

  “What do you mean?” Sam looked over at him curiously, admiring the way the bright morning sunlight caressed his handsome features.

  “I just thought it was a pretty important moment. I didn’t want to have it with a woman I’d paid. Someone who didn’t even want to be there sharing it with me.”

  His words touched Samantha, making her fall even deeper in love with him. “So, whom did you lose your virginity to?”

  “A widow who was a friend of our family. I was 17, and she was 30.” He grinned a bit, obviously remembering the woman. “Older, experienced, beautiful. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. She liked to play games with me, tie me up, and play roles. Given our history, I’m sure you realize how much I enjoyed that. It wasn’t until later that I realized such games were not normally done.”

  “Have you had that kind of lovemaking with every woman since then?”

  “No.” He turned a bit in the saddle, meeting her gaze intently. “Never. Until you.”

  “Why not?” Samantha asked in surprise.

  “It didn’t seem right with the women in brothels. It wouldn’t be their choice. And I didn’t trust the society women enough not to talk about it later.”

  “Hmm, I understand.” She dropped her gaze, wondering what category that put her in. More consequential than a prostitute but less important than a lady? Or was it an honor of a sort that he trusted her enough to play with her?

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “Did you love her? The widow?”

  “I thought I did, but it was probably just lust. At least that’s what she told me, over and over again, until she finally left me.” A hint of pain colored his words, even after all these years, and she realized that it must have hurt him badly at the time.

  “That’s sad. Why did she leave you?”

  He shrugged. “She didn’t want to have any children or be married again. She’d already had an arranged marriage, and when he died, she had the money and freedom she craved. She enjoyed our relationship, while it lasted, but I was still a boy. I certainly wasn’t someone who could keep her attention long-term, not back then. Besides, she told me she wanted me to find a girl my own age, get married, and have a family.”

  “And yet you haven’t ever married,” she mused. “Why is that?”

  “A combination of things.” He sighed and shoved a hand through his dark hair. “I’ve always had projects that consume me to the point of obsession. And I suppose I’ve just never been able to see myself tied down to any one person.”

  “Oh.” Sam looked away, doing her best to hide her disappointment. Well, that answered some of what she’d been dying to know. He wasn’t the marrying kind. Even if he were, she’d never fit into his life. She hadn’t even known which fork to use at dinner last night and had to watch Charlotte and mimic her like a parrot. Maybe she should forget about telling him she loved him and just let him go.

  “Tell me more about your trip to Paris,” she said after a long moment, desperate to change the subject.

  He gave her a long, measuring look, obviously not fooled. She sensed he knew he’d said something to hurt her, but couldn’t decide what.

  “The institute is a very modern facility where the world’s best scientists gather,” he said, his face brightening. “Although Pasteur is famous for developing the vaccination to treat rabies, the scientists also do quite a bit of study on bacterial infection—which is the area I’ve been researching.”

  “Because of your mother,” she said, remembering their earlier conversation.

  He nodded. “My mother had a rapid onset of joint pain. I believe this was caused by a bacterial infection, which localized in her knee.”

  “How did you figure out what that meant?” She cast a quick look at him, admiring the lost, intense look on his face as he got into his subject. When he spoke of medicine, he became even more devastatingly attractive.

  “Two years ago, Émile Roux and Alexandre Yersin, two of the scientists I met with at the institute, published a paper on the causes of diphtheria. They believe it is caused by a facultative anaerobic organism—the same type of organism I was studying, although the manifestations are quite different in diphtheria. They are now very close to developing a serum to treat the disease.”

  Samantha wasn’t following the language completely but could get the gist of what he was saying and was impressed with his involvement in something so important.

  “I’ve really done all I can do without having patients to test on and I don’t have the desire or the facilities to do that like they do. My findings are best left in their hands to finish.”

  “Then why are we going to gather plants?” Samantha asked.

  “The white willow releases fever. The last thing I want to do on this project is add it to the serum that attacks the bacteria,” he explained.

  After three more hours of riding they came to a beautiful meadow by a stream. “This is the place,” Nico said, dismounting. It was a peaceful, secluded area full of white willow. They spent the afternoon gathering the branches and bark and preserving it in special containers, until Nico declared that they’d found enough.

  “Thank you for helping me,” Nico told Samantha as they made their way back to where they’d left all their gear. It would be dark in an hour or so, and he wanted to make sure they had everything prepared for the night before the light left them.

  As they went about putting up the canvas tent and gathering firewood, Nico found his gaze returning repeatedly to Samantha. She’d worn her boy’s trousers again, since they were going to be spending so much time on horseback. The sight of her bending over to pick things up and moving around the campsite with easy, elegant grace made him long for the moment when they could climb inside the tent and lose themselves in each other until morning.

  He’d always enjoyed the time he spent with her, but today had been wonderful. He’d found himself telling her things he’d never told anyone, but instead of being disinterested, she’d kept on encouraging him to tell her more.

  He didn’t want to think of how he’d feel when she left. She’d become very important to him in such a short time. She was a friend, a partner and a lover all rolled into one. With her, he felt free to be himself, both in the bedroom and out. Hell, he couldn’t get through a single day now without wanting her in his bed.

  He finished putting up the tent, and then grabbed his fishing pole. “Mrs. Lotte packed us plenty to eat, but I’d still like to see if I can catch a fish.”

  She smiled. “Sounds good. There’s noth
ing like a trout cooked over a fire.”

  “Do you know how to start a fire?”

  “Of course.” She gave him a chiding glance, then efficiently began to lie out the wood and strike some flint to the kindling as he walked to the water’s edge. Before long, she had a hot little fire going. Without being asked, she unsaddled the horses and brushed them down.

  He grinned to himself as he waited for the fish to bite. He loved being outdoors, fishing and camping. He couldn’t think of a single woman of his acquaintance who would not only enjoy a trip like this but also make herself so useful. If he’d tried to bring Anna Morgan out here, she’d have demanded a silken pillow to sit on and would have probably complained the entire time of being cold, tired and hungry.

  Within half an hour, he was roasting a large trout over the fire in some wild herbs he’d gathered, while Samantha cut up the figs and sliced the cheese, ham and bread. She also found some wine in the pack and cups to pour it into. Soon they were eating a delicious feast in front of the fire.

  When they were done, they cleaned everything up companionably in the diminishing light, and sat back down close to the fire. He leaned against a large tree stump, and she rested between his legs, her back against his chest, with a wool blanket wrapped around them both to ward off the chill.

  She sighed and relaxed into his embrace, gazing up at the summer sky. “The stars are so bright tonight.”

  He nodded and pressed his face against the back of her head, enjoying the smell of her soft hair. For a long time they just sat there, quietly, enjoying the stars, but then he started to feel tension growing within her. Several times she seemed as though she was going to say something, only to sigh and nestle tighter into his embrace. Worry grew within him as he pondered all the things that could be troubling her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, cupping her face and angling her head a bit so he could gaze into her eyes, glad for the full moon that lit the clearing.