.
Samantha sat next to the dowager and said not a word, as they waited for their guest to arrive. All morning, Samantha had used her time to reassure her that she’d keep her confidence, that she was her friend and would help her any way that she could. After repeating these words over and over, Sam had finally convinced the countess to allow her to remain in the sitting room to await Viscountess Selby’s arrival.
Lady Selby was Lady Brandell’s truest friend, and, as their guest entered the room, it occurred to Samantha that it had been a visit to Lady Selby’s home the previous day that had changed Lady Brandell. If there was a reason for the dowager’s strange behavior the previous night, Lady Selby was that reason.
The widowed viscountess, who was close to the dowager in age, but at least two stones less, paused at the sight of Samantha. “Lady Samantha.” Then she turned her blue gaze to Lady Brandell. “I thought we were to meet alone.”
“No.” The dowager sighed. “Sam will follow me wherever I go, no matter what I say. There’s no point in hiding the truth from her. She… can be trusted.”
Sam straightened and smiled at the words, even while she ignored their lack of confidence.
Lady Selby didn’t seem so sure; and took a step back.
Sam stood. “Lady Selby, I am Lady Brandell’s companion and have sworn to keep her confidences.” Then, knowing it would only ruin her reputation further, she said, “I know how to keep a secret.” Because I’ve plenty of my own, went the unspoken words.
That caught Lady’s Selby’s attention. She stiffened, catching Sam’s implication that she was a sullied woman, and had likely been for some time. Sam saw no point in denying it anymore. For months, she’d tried to no avail, and now that her life was set on spinsterhood, there was no point in not using the rumors to appease Lady Selby.
After a disgruntled look, the lady settled close to the dowager and asked, “Did you find someone who could do as we’ve asked and be discreet about it?
Sam listened quietly, though a hundred question ran through her mind.
The dowager turned fully to Lady Selby then. “Not yet. I barely had a chance to hire a man to follow him before someone stopped me.”
Lady Selby shook her head. Tears began to gather in her eyes as the dowager grabbed her hand.
“I’ll try again tonight,” Lady Brandell said and then gave Sam a pointed look. “And no one will stop me this time.”
Sam opened her mouth but wasn’t sure what she planned to say.
“I… don’t know what I’ll do if something has happened to him,” Lady Selby sobbed.
“To whom?” Sam finally asked.
Lady Selby turned to Sam. “Lord Selby, my son.”
Sam’s eyes widened. She’d met Viscount Selby after becoming Lady Brandell’s companion, since the dowager’s only trips away from her own terrace were to Lady Selby’s. Lord Mark Ogden, the Viscount Selby, was in his early thirties and though not very attractive, he was tall and had a way of holding himself that made him rather pleasant to behold. He’d been kind to Samantha… until he’d found out how she’d become Lady Brandell’s companion. After that he ‘d made sure to never meet her eyes, likely for fear of encouraging a match.
As though Sam would ever think herself good enough for a titled gentleman ever again. Before coming to London, Sam had heard how London could be. Men like Lord Selby made sure that Sam felt the coldness of Society even on the warmest days.
She recalled Lady Selby claiming her son to have gone on a fishing trip a few weeks ago with some friends. Was that no longer true?
Lady Selby closed her eyes and pulled in a breath. “The other lords he went fishing with claimed that my son met up with another… friend and no one had seen him since.”
That she’d hesitated on the word ‘friend,’ made Sam wonder if the friend her son planned to meet happened to be a woman. Not for the first time, Sam thought how unfair it was that men could do as they pleased, while women were to remain chaste, or suffer the consequences for the rest of their lives.
She turned and saw the dowager was looking down at her own lap, and Sam immediately understood why the dowager had been so determined to help Lady Selby… and why Lady Selby had sought Lady Brandell for aid.
The dowager knew what it was like to lose a child.
“But I don’t understand,” Sam said. “Why not hire someone to find him? A watchman or two. Surely, they’d be of better aid than a thug off the street.”
Selby looked at Sam. “I can’t hire a watchman because…” She turned to Lady Brandell. “I…”
Lady Brandell remained quiet.
Sam was still confused. Had it been her own child, she’d have hired all the men her money could afford.
She had money now, but that money would soon be cut from her. She had a mere two months before the grace period her father had given her came to an end. Marry a gentleman of the ton or marry the man who’d ruined her name. If she refused both then she’d be cut off for good and alone in the world unless she stayed Lady Brandell’s companion.
Time, and her already soiled reputation, were against her.
It made no difference that her father knew her to be innocent, or that it had been his friend, a sailor named Mr. Green, who’d crawled into her bed, three sheets to the wind, forever ruining her reputation.
During that first month after the incident, her father had encouraged Sam to marry the sailor, who’d seemed all too happy to take Sam, and likely, her dowry. She’d grown up alone quite often, since her father liked to travel. Her mother had died when she was young. It left her with plenty of time to do what she loved best. Garden. Or rather, design gardens. She’d started with her own, and then had been asked to arrange the beds for a friend. Eventually, Sam had had used her talents in most of the gardens in Oakmont.
She enjoyed the quiet and beauty of gardens, and how they could bring people such instant happiness on sight. The gardener at her own home in Oakmont had been a close friend, like a grandfather, in a way. She had no siblings, and though at first, the thought of never having a family of her own had been devastating, she found it a better option than what was being currently offered to her.
She couldn’t miss what she’d never had.
Though silently, she admitted to herself that she’d had hopes.
The sailor was still someone she was dealing with, and yet another reason she’d taken Karl up on his offer. She’d needed to flee, and surrounded by the ton, she felt safer than if she’d remained in the country.
Then there was also the deal she’d made with her father...
There were footsteps at the door, and then the butler showed in the last man Sam had expected to see.
Sam stood at the sight of Mr. Smith, and immediately her stomach clenched.
He was more beautiful in the daylight. Dashing, even. He was tall and once again dressed in a very fine suit that showed off the powerful lines of his body. He wore a pleasant expression on his masculine face, and his dazzling blue eyes glanced at her before immediately turning toward Lady Brandell. The look happened so quickly that Sam wondered if she’d imagined it. Whatever he saw in Sam wasn’t enough to hold his attention.
“My lady.” He bowed and then greeted Sam and Lady Selby, but he kept his eyes on Lady Brandell. “I hoped that you were well. After our meeting last night, I had to be sure.”
The butler left, shutting the door behind him.
Lady Selby gasped. “Last night? Cili, who is this?”
Lady Brandell didn’t address her friend. Instead, she lifted her chin and stared down Mr. Smith. “Why are you here?”
The man hesitated for the first time, as if struggling to find the words. “To keep my promise to you.” His gaze flickered to Lady Selby. He was purposefully being vague, likely to not expose last evening’s events to Lady Selby.
If only he knew.
“Mr. Smith,” Lady Brandell said. “I believe your promise to help was on the occasion that I asked for it. I did
not ask for your help. So, though I thank you for your concern, you may go.”
Mr. Smith narrowed his eyes and his heavy shoulders fell slightly, but his gaze didn’t waver. It seemed it was trying to figure the woman out, and Sam wondered at his determination.
Lady Selby spoke to Mr. Smith. “I’m sorry, but do you know Lady Brandell?”
Mr. Smith kept his gaze locked on Lady Brandell. “I’m sure the lady could share that with you.”
Lady Brandell sighed. “Mr. Smith is the ‘someone’ I mentioned. The one who interrupted my evening.”
“Oh,” Lady Selby said. “And what is it that you do, Mr. Smith?”
He straightened. “I’m a boxing instructor.”
Sam’s eyes widened. Her mouth fell open slightly, and she looked over to find that both Lady Brandell and Lady Selby had similar expressions. Lady Brandell recovered quickly.
“Boxing?” Lady Brandell asked. “You fight, sir?”
He lifted a brow. “Fighting is not legal, my lady. I only train others in the art.”
Sam looked him over again, and now understood why the man had felt like a wall, the previous evening. She’d been a fool to think him a solicitor. No, he did not have the body of a man who spoke and wrote for a living. Her eyes moved to those large hands. Gloveless today. They looked just as rough as she’d imagined a boxer’s would. She didn’t imagine instructors made enough to afford the clothing Mr. Smith wore, and wondered what else he did for a living.
Lady Selby brightened. “A boxer.” Her mind was clearly at work. “And where do you teach, Mr. Smith?”
“Iverstone’s Boxing Club.” Sam hadn’t been in London long enough to know the establishment by name, but she knew who Iverstone was. A duke. But still, she wasn’t sure that working for a duke explained how Mr. Smith had managed to afford his clothes.
Lady Selby’s eyes widened once again. “Why, my son is a member of that club.”
“I know,” Mr. Smith told her with a grin. “I don’t train him myself, but I know him to be very good.”
“Have you seen him recently?” Lady Selby asked hopefully.
Sam wondered how reasonable the question was. Likely there were many who came in and out of the club every day.
Mr. Smith frowned. “Lord Selby has not been in all week, which is unusual.”
“How would you know?” Sam asked, unable to stop herself from asking it.
Finally, those eyes turned to her. “I keep the books at the club, as well.”
“An accountant?” Lady Selby asked.
“A manager,” he corrected, which meant he made more than a simple instructor, and was likely close to Lord Iverstone. Who was this man?
“If you are a manager,” Lady Brandell cut in. “Then why not introduce yourself as that instead of a simple instructor.”
“Because, my lady.” Mr. Smith’s gaze was intent once more. “It was a tough you were hunting for last night. So once again, I offer you my aid.”
“Oh, Cili.” Lady Selby grabbed her. “He’s perfect! He knows what my son looks like and he—”
The door opened, and Lady Selby’s footman came in, followed by her cousin, Mr. Oscar Ogden. “Ah, Lady Selby. There you are. I’ve search all of London for you.” He was a man of average height who wore a smile he found more charming than anyone else did. To Sam, it seemed like a sneer, more than anything else. His blond head was balding, and his dark eyes searched out Sam. Interest burned in their depths, as they always did, whenever he looked at her, and Sam fought the urge to flee the room. “Lady Samantha. I should have known you’d be here. Always the faithful companion to Lady Brandell.”
“Mr. Ogden.” She used one of Lord Selby’s moves and didn’t meet his eyes again.
The obnoxious man ignored Mr. Smith, greeted Lady Brandell, and then turned to Lady Selby. “Time to go.” The pleasantness left his voice immediately, and Sam wondered why.
Lady Selby blinked and then nodded, looking slightly downtrodden as she turned to Lady Brandell. “Thank you for tea,” even though she’d not drank a sip. She left before anyone could say a word.
* * *
4
CHAPTER
FOUR
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Nash watched Mr. Ogden rush Lady Selby from the room, sure there was something wrong in that situation, but put it out of his mind as he turned to his mother.
And that was where he let his eyes remain, though he didn’t miss a thing about Lady Sam as she took her seat next Lady Brandell.
A few seconds passed before the lady invited Nash to have a seat.
More tea was brought in, since the last had clearly cooled.
Samantha fixed the tea. “How do you take it?” Those strange and exotic eyes came up to him.
Nash swallowed, thinking of all the ways he wanted to… “Plain.”
Her color rose, but she ducked away before he could see how the change could affect her eyes. His attraction for the lady would be hard to ignore; but ignore it, he must. He had no intentions of leaving his mother’s home in shambles when he departed. He planned to help and then leave. Those were his goals for the moment, until he could figure out what to do about his uncle.
Could they truly find a way to expose his crimes? If they did, it didn’t necessary mean that Parliament would believe Nash’s claim as his father’s true heir. It seemed an easier plan just to kill him, but Chris’s words still held sway in his mind, just as he was sure Chris had intended. Ever the clever manipulator.
“How can you help me?” Lady Brandell asked.
“That depends,” Nash said. “Why not tell me the issue?”
Lady Brandell straightened. “I’m only doing so, because it seemed Lady Selby would have asked it if she were here, but I’ll not tell you everything, since I don’t trust you.” Her eyes were stern. “Her son has gone missing. He was on a fishing trip with some other lads, but none of them have seen him, since he split from the group to visit another person. We don’t know who that other person was he planned to meet, but it is unlike Lord Selby to disappear without a word.”
“And you’ve spoken to the young men who were with Lord Selby?” Nash asked.
She nodded. “They were all there when Lord Selby announced his strange departure, and left in haste. He’d said nothing about the person he planned to meet. Lady Selby believes it to have been a meeting with a woman, but who truly knows. It could have been anyone.”
There was much missing from this story. Nash could feel it, but he wasn’t sure where the truth started and began. “I’ll need the names of the young men.” There were likely a few who also attended the boxing club, which would make Nash’s job easier. He could only hope that if, and when, he found Lord Selby, the man was still alive.
There was another question Nash wanted to ask, but he hesitated, as he took his mother in. He definitely had her eyes, and some of her facial features, though it was hard to truly tell with the extra weight she carried. She dressed as though she were still in mourning, though her husband had died years ago. Was she? Had his parents had a love match? Those were questions he’d never get the answers to, but he could safely satisfy one curiosity. “Why did Lady Selby ask for your assistance?”
He noticed Lady Samantha stiffen, but kept his eyes on the dowager.
Lady Brandell swallowed, and some of the fire left her eyes before she lowered her chin. “That’s none of your concern, Mr. Smith.”
She didn’t like him, and that same dagger of hate kept drilling into Nash’s chest in the most dreadful way. He didn’t want his mother to not like him. Even if she never knew who he was to her, but how did he go about gaining her favor?
He allowed his eyes to find Lady Samantha and caught her gaze. She might have the answers.
* * *
Samantha stepped out on the back porch and stood just a few feet away from Mr. Smith. She’d been surprised when he’d asked Lady
Brandell for a tour of the gardens while he thought over their situation, claiming he didn’t wish to leave the house in case he had more questions for her.
Lady Brandell hadn’t been able to object, but, deciding she didn’t wish for his company, she sent Sam to go with him.
Sam didn’t understand the woman’s objection to Mr. Smith. He was here to assist her and her friend, after all, but Lady Brandell refused to be friendly, and Sam wondered why. She took a breath as Mr. Smith closed the distance between them.
“After you, my lady.”
Once Upon an Earl_Heirs of High Society_A Regency Romance Book Page 4