Thinking about losing either man made him feel ill, and he thought that perhaps he should forgive them before the chance slipped away.
But how did one forgive such a great offense?
Maybe it had been the thought of Nash losing his own life that had prompted Chris to lie, to betray him in the worst way. Would Nash have done the same to keep Chris alive, if he’d known his brother had a temper?
“So, you think him innocent?” he asked Sam. Nash hadn’t read the page about his brother’s circumstances from Ms. Best’s journal himself, so it was completely possible that many of his assumptions were wrong. It would likely take meeting Lord Brandell himself, to know if the man was capable of murder.
Sam straightened. “You couldn’t honestly ask me to speak ill of a man who’s allowed me into his home.” Her gaze held his firmly.
“I suppose I couldn’t...” His own gaze didn’t move.
She was the first to look away. Color stained her cheeks.
Sitting across from Sam felt like one of the most intimate acts Nash had ever done with a woman. He’d found her out here, leaning over the small white table, her back to him with the sun’s orange and blue rays making her skin and hair glow.
Had the circumstances been different, he’d have liked to greet her with a kiss on the soft skin at her throat, watching the sun bathe her skin as she smiled with pleasure. Then he’d have watched her sketch for hours. The smell of grass and dew clung to the air.
She was beautiful, and her taste still lingered on his mouth. He’d nearly denied himself food in order to keep her taste on him. Then he’d decided he’d not leave until he had more. He wanted so much more from her.
She’d come alive in his arms. He definitely hadn’t been her first kiss.
They were eating now. Alone. He couldn’t help but think Sam unlike any woman he’d met before, and definitely not a lady. Not even from the first moment they’d met, in the darkness of St. James, did she cringe at his presence or shy away from him. Instead, she seemed very comfortable to be speaking to a bastard, and he wondered if that was simply the way she was, or if it was something about him. Maybe she was drawn to him, the same way he was drawn to her.
He hadn’t thought she or Lady Brandell would be here today, but was glad they were.
“I spoke to Lady Brandell,” she said. “About the stolen reticule.” Her own eyes were like a sunrise, golds and blues. “I… also mentioned how you were orphaned.” She bit her lip. “I hope you don’t mind. I simply thought it would make her kinder.”
Nash pulled in a breath around his aching heart. What she meant was she hoped Lady Brandell would speak to him with pity. Well, it had worked, hadn’t it? He recalled her kindness at the theatre, and now that made sense. “No, that was well done.” He’d do anything to keep his mother and her lovely companion safe. The more Lady Brandell took to him, the more she’d grow to trust him and not take matters into her own hands.
There were voices from the foyer.
“The charity meeting must be over.” Sam stood. Their intimate meal was finished. “You can speak to Lady Selby now.”
Nash gained his feet and was on her in seconds.
Her hands rested on his chest, and he watched as her own rose and fell with her rushed breathing. “I… I’m not like this, Mr. Smith.”
“Nash.”
“Oh, I couldn't.”
When he moved away, he placed his hands on her waist and kept her close. “We’re friends,” he reminded her. “You can call me Nash, at least in private.”
“Do let me go before someone sees.” Those blue-rimmed golden eyes came to him again with more than a little concern. Was she afraid of him? Or the rumors this moment could create if they were found?
He let her go without inquiry.
“I can’t call you by your name.” She started to gather her things. A satchel made of cowhide sat beside the table and pencils and papers quickly disappeared inside.
He leaned over the table and spoke in her ear. “I already call you Sam, in my mind,” he confessed. “I’ve been doing so since I first learned it.”
Her eyes widened and then she lowered her voice. “You’re not supposed to do that.” Her amazed expression amused him.
“I’m not?”
“I’m supposed to give you permission for that,” she told him.
“Even in my mind?” He lifted a brow.
She bit her lip; but couldn’t stop from smiling. “Where is the good man I met only days ago? The one who rescued me from a pack of thugs?” She eyed him playfully.
“He’s still here,” he promised in a low voice. “But lest the lady forget, this man is every bit a scoundrel.”
Her color rose again, though he didn’t know if it was in embarrassment or desire.
He liked her. Greatly. She was fascinating and beautiful...
She turned away. “We should meet Lady Selby in the foyer, Mr. Smith.”
…and making it very clear that she had no plans to bed him.
He’d never had to work hard at getting a lady, but it wasn’t the catch that drew him to her. No. It was her warmth.
Her eyes smiled as she started to the foyer, and he followed. He caught up with her, and soon they were walking abreast.
The foyer was alive with activity as Lady Selby ushered all her guests away, and the servants moved to fetch their things.
Nash watched the women depart, witnessed the last guest leave, but before he could say a word, Mr. Ogden walked into the house, looking bright and fresh. “Lady Brandell, I didn’t know you’d come to visit. Did you two have any plans for the day?”
Lady Selby’s eyes widened. “Oh, well, we were planning to go to… visit the orphanage. Were we not, Lady Brandell?”
His mother visibly paled, but she straightened her back and nodded. “Yes… The Best Home in Paddington.” Which was where Nash had grown up. He’d known Lady Charles to be one of the members of the charity Lady Selby had joined. Lady Charles had been one of Ms. Best’s friends and her most loyal sponsor. Nash should have known it was Best Home that they were meeting about. How strange that his mother would be seeing the place he’d grown up.
Ogden frowned. “Sounds dangerous, but if you plan to do it, I’ll be more than glad to accompany you.” Dangerous? What did the man expect? The children to molest the women? And Paddington was hardly as rough as St. Giles or even Covent Garden.
“That won’t be necessary, Oscar,” Lady Selby said. “Mr. Smith will be traveling with us and the carriage will be quite full.” She didn’t even bother to look his way, the scheming woman.
Lady Brandell surprised him by giving introduction. “He saved my life a few days ago. He’s a very… tenacious. A boxer.”
He wasn’t sure if his mother’s words were a compliment or insult. But she was right either way. He’d not rest until he helped her.
“Boxer?” Mr. Ogden looked Nash over, which was something he hadn’t bothered to do the other day. “You were at Lord Brandell’s home, if I recall. I’m Mr. Ogden, Lady Selby’s cousin.” He pushed out his chest enough that one would think he’d addressed himself as Lord Ogden.
And perhaps that was what the man was planning all along, though Nash thought it too soon to jump to conclusions.
Nash nodded once. “Nice to finally be introduced. I’ll ensure your cousin’s safety.”
Ogden looked him over again. “Yes, I’m sure you can…” Then he looked at Lady Selby. “Are you sure you wish to go without me?”
“Yes! Have a good day, Oscar.” Then she turned to Nash and held out her hand. “Mr. Smith.”
* * *
10
CHAPTER
TEN
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It hadn’t occurred to anyone in the carriage that they were all traveling to the place Nash had once called home, until he said so, some minutes down the road.
He sat by Sam�
�s side, to her great dismay and pleasure. So near, yet so far. He would think her a strumpet if he had any idea how much she wanted to kiss him at the moment.
Daringly, she glanced at him, and found him to be already staring at her.
His mouth curved, and she held back her shiver. Scoundrel, he’d called himself. She believed it, but didn’t think him as bad as the word implied. Scoundrels didn’t step in to save foolish women who dared to travel about the city at night, or risk their lives by punching dukes in the face. She only now wished she’d remained in the hall, so she could have seen Brayton’s great fall. It was an event that was likely to never happen again.
Lady Selby’s sigh interrupted her thoughts. “I swear it’s like he’s around every corner? I can barely breathe without him being close.”
“Who?” Lady Brandell asked. “Mr. Smith?” Knowing very well that Lady Selby had been speaking of her cousin, and not Nash. She gave Nash a meaningful look, but there was a softness around her mouth that betrayed her malice.
Nash’s laugh filled the carriage. “Lady Brandell, you’ve a very sharp wit.”
Lady Brandell seemed surprised by the words; and glowed a little as she straightened. “Oh, I was only jesting...”
Sam had never heard the woman jest, and was still reeling from the fact that she had.
Lady Selby laughed as well and grabbed Lady Brandell’s arm. “Oh, my Cili used to be quite the comic. It’s how she lured Vinci, was it not?”
Sam froze as she waited for the mention of her departed husband to steal away the happiness that had bloomed on Lady Brandell’s face.
But instead it was a sadness still laced with fondness. “Yes, that’s how it happened.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“It was a love match then?” Nash leaned forward, seeming to become enraptured with the tale.
Lady Brandell, who’d begun to do what she was most fond of, which was retreat into her own mind, surfaced and looked at Nash. “Oh, yes. We were very much in love. We were quite young and though many had warned us that my infatuation would soon die, and I’d stay around for little more than duty’s sake, we never fell out of love. It was a happy marriage.”
Lady Selby sighed longingly.
Sam had to hold back her own soft sigh. No wonder Lady Brandell often slipped away to her thoughts. If Sam had memories such as the dowager, she’d have stopped paying attention to the world a long time ago. Lady Brandell had known the truest love, something rare for the beau monde, and likely commoners, as well. To love one person forever? What a gift to have had it returned. That part of herself that Sam usually denied reared its ugly head.
It was the longing for things she’d never have.
She recalled the bargain she’d struck with her father.
Find a suitable husband, take Mr. Green, or remain in exile. Only two options would meet her father’s approval.
She recalled Nash saying that Lord Selby had thought to court her. She hadn’t known this, but she’d have readily accepted if he’d asked. A part of knew she should feel new motivation for finding him. Perhaps, she could find a way to move him past his fears of her reputation; and get him to ask for her hand.
Two months was all she had left. When the season ended in August, she’d have no more options.
Yet even as the thought of marriage to Selby came to mind…
She didn’t dare look at Nash, though she thought she felt his eyes on her. Wishful thinking?
“What was your husband like?” Nash asked, as he turned back to Lady Brandell.
For the next few minutes, Lady Brandell spoke about her husband with so much fondness that Sam felt drawn to the lord she’d never met, and was greatly saddened to know he was gone.
When they arrived at the orphanage, Sam admitted that it was quite different than what she’d expected. The building was well kept and looked like any of the other businesses that crowded the streets.
Lady Selby said, “I only said we were coming to the orphanage to get away from Mr. Ogden, so we could speak, but its best we go inside and look around, in case he asks questions, later.”
A footman helped them down and Nash retrieved a key from his pocket, not even bothering to knock.
“You’ve a key?” Lady Brandell asked the obvious.
Nash smiled at her. “I still come here from time to time. I’m friends with the woman who owns it, and my siblings and I often help when we can.” He ushered the women in, and they were greeted the sounds of hammering and the stench of paint.
Sam covered her mouth to block not only the smell but the dust.
Nash spoke over the noise. “The entire building is under renovations. My future sister-in-law, Lady Rachel Lush, decided that once she was done decorating the home she’d share with my brother, Reuben, she wanted to add her touch to the orphanage. My sisters, Lady Chatenny and Lady Obenshire, agreed, and are currently working to transform each space.”
“How very kind of them,” Lady Selby shouted. “If they won’t take offense, I would like to help as well.”
Nash nodded and showed them through a hallway, and then into a kitchen that looked be in a state of chaos, as well. They went through another door and down another hall that was thankfully quiet, once he closed the door behind them.
“These are the classrooms and the nursery,” he said. “I believe the children are currently learning, but the teachers won’t mind if we stick our heads inside.”
Lady Selby said, “I believe the charity helps pay for the teaching.”
Nash nodded. “Indeed, along with the evening meal.”
Sam had yet to see a child, but felt the great urge to help, though she didn’t see the point if she’d be poor, soon. At least she’d still be able to accompany Lady Brandell to the meetings as her companion. It wasn’t the worst position to be in, especially since the woman was being nicer.
Nash opened the first door. Light from the windows in that room fell against him. He waved warmly at whoever looked his way, and then looked up to speak to someone taller. “Don’t mind us, Mr. Easy. We’ve a few sponsors who simply wish to see.” Then Nash waved the women closer, and Sam peeked in to find over a dozen small faces looking her way.
The children’s ages seemed to range from six all the way up to twelve, or beyond. They sat at two long tables with long benches on either side. The walls were unadorned, but clean. The subject was math, from what Sam could see from a child’s paper. Mr. Easy was dressed plainly, but clean, and spoke well. “Say hello to the ladies, children.”
There was great shuffling as the chairs were pulled away, and then fluid curtseys and bows went throughout the room. “Good morning, my ladies.”
Sam smiled.
“They’re just darling,” Lady Selby said with a grin. “Hello, children!” she said loudly to the group.
Lady Brandell stared at their faces without expression.
“Take your seats,” Mr. Easy said. “We’ve a lesson to continue.”
The boys and girls immediately obeyed without fuss, and Sam couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen such well-behaved children.
Nash closed the door a few minutes into the lesson.
Lady Brandell asked, “Did you learn in that very classroom?”
“Yes, but I had a different teacher, and must confess I was not at all as well behaved as the brood you just saw.” He was grinning as he said it.
Lady Selby laughed. “Oh, how interesting. What is in the other rooms?”
Sam bit her lips to suppress her own laugh.
“And why is it, that you were always in trouble?” Lady Brandell asked, with her hands folded before her.
Nash took on her same position as he continued to grin down at her. “Well, unfortunately, I never saw a fight I didn’t wish to join.”
Lady Brandell tsked.
Nash went on. “I’ve always had trouble listening to what others command me to do, and found it a struggle to switch to my right hand for writing.”
A gasp
left Lady Brandell’s lips. “You write with your left hand?”
“Now I do.” He lifted the offending hand and continued to smile. Without a teacher to correct the habit, it was clear that Nash now did what he pleased.
Once Upon an Earl_Heirs of High Society_A Regency Romance Book Page 8