The earl captured her fluttering fingers in his gloved hand. “You are frightened, that is all.” His dark eyes gazed into hers, and her heart began to pound in her breast. “Do not be, my dear. I should be very gentle.” He touched the tip of her nose and traced the line of her cheekbone with a warm finger. “Ask old Maria. She will tell you I have an excellent reputation as a lover.”
Samantha’s cheeks grew even rosier. “Maria is not here today,” she said, hardly knowing what she told him. “Someone said she was ill.”
“I see.” A slight frown creased his lordship’s forehead. “Well, you can ask her when she returns. I do not suppose you are ready to come to me tonight. Though I have my eye on a neat little house in the suburbs. I am sure you would be quite comfortable there.”
Samantha pulled away the hand that he held. “You - you must not waste your time so. I cannot - I cannot do such a thing.”
The earl continued to smile. “The time is mine, and I shall waste it if I please.” He shrugged. “You must remember, we of the ton are often afflicted with ennui. This is my way of combating it.”
Samantha forced herself to nod. She could never make him understand. Perhaps if she had been able to tell him the truth - that she was a person of quality, with such a person’s principles - he might have begun to realize. But as long as he saw her as a member of a lower social order, he would persist in his pursuit, assuming that her reluctance was not genuine but part of a coy plan. “I myself have never suffered from ennui,” she said finally. “There is far too much to do here for a person to become bored.”
“You could learn if you accept me,” he said with that wicked grin. “And I should furnish you with many gowns; even more fetching than that coral creation you wore to Covent Garden. And jewels to blaze in your ears and on your wrists and throat.”
His eyes regarded her so warmly that Samantha felt her heart begin to thud heavily. Those eyes said so much. They spoke of desire and passion, of depths of feeling that were entirely unknown to her and yet that she yearned to be taught. With his lordship as teacher. For a long moment she stared like one paralyzed. Then she shook her head. “I cannot, milord. I cannot.”
He did not seem at all disturbed by this refusal. He merely smiled and touched her cheek gently. Samantha strove to hide the tremors that wanted to wash over her. His touch made her feel weak and helpless. “I am a very patient man,” he observed dryly. “And if I have to wait for what I want, I will do so. As long as necessary.”
Samantha was about to protest, but he laid a finger on her lips to forestall her. “Ssssh. The curtain is rising. Watch now.”
Obediently she turned toward the stage, but her heart pounded violently in her breast. Much as she might protest, and much as she did not wish to become an object of infamy, she was finally forced to admit to herself that her partiality for his lordship was past controlling. Why else would she have asked him to stay when it was obviously far more to her advantage - or at least that of her virtue - to have him go? Still she could not but be glad that he sat there behind her, that occasionally she felt his warm breath on her ear as he moved to whisper to her, that even when they were both seemingly engrossed in the play, her body was singularly conscious of his presence.
Gradually she forced her mind back upon the performance. Kean’s portrayal was awe-inspiring.
As the curtain fell, she felt his lordship move closer, and his hand appeared in front of her, offering a clean cambric square. She took it gratefully and wiped at her face. Then she turned to him. “How did you know that I should need this?”
The earl shrugged. “The play is very affecting, and Kean is a master. Also, I know you are susceptible to tears. The death scene is particularly moving.”
Samantha nodded. “He told me that he falls forward like that as if to cover the shame of his defeat. He said he got the idea from the figure of a soldier on Sir Ralph Abercrombie’s monument in St. Paul’s Cathedral.”
“Indeed.” Roxbury smiled cheerfully. “Now I learn something from you. The theatre is ever fascinating. Its spell is hard to break.”
“I would not wish to do so,” said Samantha in surprise. “I like my life here.”
Roxbury shook his head. “You are a hard nut to crack, Samantha, my love.” His smile faded and his eyes darkened. “But I shall persist.”
Being unable to think of an adequate response, she did not reply to this. She dared not tell him that he was already influencing her so that she could not bring herself to send him away.
“The afterpiece will soon be over,” he said. “Will you accept a ride home in my carriage?”
Sanity returned to Samantha, if only briefly, and she shook her head. “No, milord.” She hesitated. “I - I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it being there. But since I cannot pay for it in the coin you wish -” She paused and shrugged eloquently.
The earl smiled slightly. “And if I say that your companionship is sufficient reward?”
Samantha allowed herself a small smile. It was better to keep all this light. “Your lordship has several times told me that temptation was too great for him.”
The earl frowned. “Forestalled by my own words. And if I undertake not to touch you, except to hand you in and out?”
Samantha hesitated. The streets were awfully cold and dark. “I -”
“Come,” said his lordship. “Give me a chance to prove myself. Your friend shall ride on the box. Please?” His dark eyes pleaded with her, and Samantha felt her resistance fading. After all, it was foolish to walk in such weather. And with Jake on the box she should be safe enough. She took a deep breath. “All right, milord. But you must keep to your promise.”
“I shall,” he said gravely. “I give you my word of honor. The Roxburys have always been men of their word.”
He rose, and for a moment as he towered there above her, Samantha felt that terrible weakness creeping over her. Then he extended his hand and helped her to her feet. “Let’s get your cloak.”
A glance at the stage told her that the afterpiece was nearly over and so she could leave. As he accompanied her down the corridor to the work room, she was conscious of more than one pair of eyes resting on them speculatively, but she disregarded them. It was no business of anyone else’s how she got home. The earl settled the cloak around her shoulders, his fingers resting there for a moment. Again that shiver coursed down her spine.
“Where do you meet Jake?” he asked.
“By the stage door,” Samantha replied. With a shake of her head, she refused the arm that he offered. His presence, even like this, was doing strange things to her ability to breathe.
Jake made no comment, just touched his forehead and fell in behind them as his lordship led the way through the press of people to where the carriage stood waiting.
“You may sit up with the driver,” said his lordship, and Jake silently obeyed. Samantha thought she had never seen him so deferential before - or so silent.
The earl extended his gloved hand to help her into the carriage. Samantha hesitated for the barest fraction of a second before she put her fingers in his. There was something very disquieting about his touch. It seemed to reach deep inside her to some hidden secret place where it evoked a response so strong that it frightened her.
She settled herself on the velvet squabs and shivered. It was now the beginning of November, and the night air was quite cold. But Samantha knew that there was more to that shiver than just the cold. It had a great deal to do with the physical presence of the Earl of Roxbury.
He mounted the steps and seated himself beside her. Samantha found suddenly that she was holding her breath. Roxbury reached to the seat across from them for a folded fur robe. He spread it out carefully and tucked it around her knees. Again his touch did strange things to her senses. “The trip is short,” he said softly. “But I want you to be snug and warm.”
Samantha could only nod. Her mouth seemed to have gone dry, and under the robe her knees began to tremble. It had b
een sheer foolishness to consent to riding in his carriage; she knew that. But it almost seemed as though his presence was a necessity to her. As she needed air and food, she needed Roxbury’s presence. This was hardly a comfortable thought, and it caused her to sit upright, her back extremely straight.
“You may relax a little,” said his lordship with a wry grin. “I intend to keep my promise.”
“Thank you, milord.” Samantha allowed herself to relax. “I - I very much appreciate the ride. But I am still afraid -”
“Enough,” said his lordship crisply. “I have told you - your company is sufficient reward. You need in no way feel obligated to me.” He made a movement toward her and then drew back. “I would have you come to me freely - with no regrets - or not at all. I should not like to think that I have hurt you in any fashion.”
Samantha again found a lump in her throat. “You are really very kind to me,” she said. “And I feel - somehow - as though I am taking advantage of you.” She forced herself to meet his eyes, those dark eyes that held the promise of so much. “For you see, I cannot do as you wish. Not ever.”
The earl shrugged. “I accept your statement. But, as I said before, I do not intend to desist from my efforts. However, that should be of no concern to you. I expect no return on the investment of my time but the pleasure of your present company. I think that is ultimately fair.”
Samantha could only agree. “It seems so, milord. But never having been in such a situation before, I cannot be sure.”
The earl frowned slightly. “If you were a member of the ton, you would not even have that assurance. A lady with a reasonably sized dowry can never know whether her suitors are after her person or her pocket. Odds are it’s the pocket that predominates.” He smiled slightly. “On the other hand, you can be quite sure where the attraction lies.”
Samantha frowned too. “That may well be true. But you neglect several substantial facts. First, the lady in question gets something for giving up her goods. She gets the security of a husband, who without an act of Parliament is not likely to leave her.”
The earl’s dark brows drew together. “That may well be the case. On the other hand, the lady may get a very poor return for her money. She has given up her freedom and her goods for a security that may exist in name only. The Cyprian fares somewhat better. She knows what she is wanted for, and she increases her goods by the bargain. If the man’s interest fades or he displeases her, she is free to choose another. And all of the time she is a free agent, able to decide for herself.”
Samantha continued to frown. “You make the prospect sound quite delightful,” she said. “But, aside from principles, you have entirely ignored the matter of love.”
The earl sighed. “Now you are chasing chimeras again. Surely attraction should be enough. Love, if it exists at all, is a rarity, and a much maligned one at that. People of sense take little notice of it, preferring to view life in a more realistic vein.”
Samantha sighed. “That is impossible for me, milord. Truly it is.”
The earl did not reply to this immediately, and Samantha found that she was holding her breath again. Finally he spoke. “I can only regret that,” he said slowly. “Love is an ephemerality better left unpursued. In my three and thirty years I have never once seen a true instance of it.”
The carriage drew to a halt, and Roxbury smiled. “Here you are. Safe at your destination.”
“Thank you, milord.” Samantha felt herself coloring up again as his lordship’s eyes met hers. Then he removed the robe and folded it carefully. “I shall precede you out,” he said.
“That is not necessary,” Samantha replied. “Jake is right there.”
The earl smiled. “When I bring a lady home, I do it properly. And that means helping her out of the carriage.” He opened the door and descended, then turned to offer her his hand. Samantha laid her fingers in his and made her way down the steps. When she was standing firmly on the pavement, she sought to remove her hand from the earl’s, but he grasped it tighter still. “I shall accompany you to the door. These streets can be very dangerous.”
Samantha could only assent, and so his lordship led her up the steps. There he paused and looked down on her. “Good night, little one. Sleep well. The carriage will be there on Monday night. Relax tomorrow and take care of yourself.”
“Yes, milord.” Samantha found herself nodding. Suddenly he leaned toward her and dropped a kiss on her forehead. Then he turned on his heel and was gone, striding down the walk with a grace that stirred her senses. Samantha stood there watching for long moments, then, finally conscious of what she was doing, she stepped quickly through the open door.
Hester stood directly inside it, her eyes aglow, but her mouth firmly closed. Samantha moved up the stairs and on into her room. She could still feel the strength of his lordship’s clasp, and her forehead burned where his lips had touched it. Before her eyes swam the vision of his darkly handsome face.
Chapter 13
When she woke the next morning, Samantha felt a vague sense of uneasiness. It was caused, she knew, by concern for Maria. She must find out for herself if the old woman was ill or not. She threw back the covers and shivered as she reached for her robe and slippers. She yanked open the bedroom door. “Hester! Jake! I need you.”
There was a flurry of activity from below stairs, and then Hester came in, followed by Jake. “Whatever is the matter, Miss Samantha? You should still be abed at this hour.” Hester was pulling at her gown in a way Samantha had never seen before, but in her concern for Maria she only vaguely noted it.
“Jake! I want you to find out where Maria lives. You know her, the seamstress I work with. She didn’t come to the theatre yesterday. I’m worried about her. I must go see her. Find out right away.”
“Lord, Miss Samantha,” said Jake. “There’s no need to put yourself in such a taking. I ain’t got to ask nobody. Happen old Maria lives in the same building as my friend, Tippen, the ticket taker. You just get dressed and get yourself some breakfast. Then I’ll get us a hack and we’ll go have a look.”
“No breakfast,” said Samantha. “I’ll eat later, after I know how Maria is. Come, Hester, help me dress. I won’t be long, Jake.”
“Right, Miss Samantha,” he replied. “But I wouldn’t worry none. Maria, she’s been around a long time. She ain’t going to kick off sudden like.”
Samantha did not answer. She had already turned back into the bedroom, gesturing to Hester to follow her.
“Jake’s right, you know,” said that indomitable servant. “Ain’t no use in going off all upset.”
“I know.” Samantha tried to calm herself. “But I can’t help but worry. Suppose she became more sick in the night?”
“Suppose she ain’t sick at all,” said Hester reasonably as she pulled off Samantha’s nightdress. “Then you’re putting yourself all on end for nothing. Best not to borrow trouble. It’ll come soon enough.”
“Yes, Hester.” Samantha forced herself to stand quietly while she was hooked and brushed. “Do you suppose we should take something along? Some hot soup or blankets?”
Hester shook her head. “I ‘spect not. One time Jake showed me where that Tippen lives. It ain’t far. Anything you need he can come back for.”
“All right, Hester. Call him, I’m ready.”
It didn’t take Jake long to find a hack and to have it at the door, but to Samantha the wait seemed interminable. She could not rid her mind of the fear that something dreadful had happened to Maria. She insisted that Jake get in the carriage with her rather than ride on the outside. “Do you know where an apothecary lives?” she asked. “In case we need one?”
Jake nodded. “There’s one the next street over, but if you asks me, a person’s better off without them fellers. ‘Specially the ones as is allus for using them leeches. I figure a man can’t have too much blood. But you ain’t to worry none, Miss Samantha. Like as not we’ll find old Maria fit as ever.”
“Then why didn’t
she come to work? She’s never missed before.”
“We’ll soon know the answers to all your questions,” said Jake. “That’s the house up there.” He stuck his head out the window, then pulled it in. “Ho! Someun’s been there afore us. There’s another carriage.”
As the hack drew to a halt, the other carriage moved away. “Here now,” said Jake, “that there carriage looks awful familiar like.”
Samantha could not be bothered by such things. “Hurry up, Jake. I must see about Maria.”
Samantha took the helping hand he offered her and hurried to descend. The house before her did not present a very favorable picture, old and run-down as most houses in this neighborhood were. “Which floor does she live on?”
“Seems to me it’s the third. I’ll just ask Tippen.” Jake knocked briskly on the door.
It was opened minutes later by Tippen himself. “What are you doing about so early in the day?” he asked with a jovial smile.
Jake smiled too. “Samantha here, she got to worrying ‘cause Maria weren’t at work last night. Now she’s got to see for herself that the old woman’s all right.”
Tippen nodded, his bald head glistening. “That there old woman sure got a powerful lot of friends. But here now” - he cast a glance at Samantha, shivering in her cloak - “just take her up and let her see Maria with her own peepers.”
She followed Jake up the stairs and to a door where he knocked. “Who’s there?” asked a soft voice. Samantha sighed in relief as she heard Maria’s tones.
“It’s Jake and Samantha, come to see how you are.”
“Come in.”
Jake opened the door, and Samantha followed close behind him. The room was small but scrupulously clean, the furniture scanty but neat. A little fire burned brightly on the hearth, and Maria lay propped up on a couch nearby that evidently served as a bed. She was wrapped in a great woolen shawl.
Samantha hurried to her side. “Maria, I have been so worried about you.”
The old woman smiled. “You’re a good girl, Samantha. I just got a touch of the chill. These old bones don’t take the cold like they used to. But it’s nothing serious. I’ll be back at work tomorrow, like as not.”
Love Plays a Part Page 18