by Danice Allen
“Completely,” Julian answered dryly. He had not expected Priss and Nan to be so unembarrassed and blunt. Apparently he need not worry that the aunts would handle the situation with aplomb. And to think he’d been hesitant to read Isabelle’s letter in front of them.
Just then Sam came in, her expression one of studied indifference. Julian observed her subdued appearance, which was belied by the fiery flash in her blue eyes. And unexpectedly, for one brief moment of insanity, he envied Sam’s future husband with all his might. What a handful she was … and what an armful she would be. And that kiss…
He forced the disturbingly erotic thoughts from his mind and rang the bell for the butler. He might be hot, but the soup was cooling…
The next morning was overcast, cold and drizzly, spoiling Sam’s plans for another walk in the park with Nathan and Clara. She tried to get the two lovers together as often as possible in this manner, but it appeared that today’s rendezvous was not to be. And when Nathan came to the house, either the aunts or Julian chaperoned, rendering Clara’s presence unnecessary. If Sam called her abigail into the room while Nathan was paying a visit, not only would it appear strange to the others, but it would serve no purpose to the lovers. Unless they were alone, or with Sam, Nathan and Clara could not act naturally with each other. Their romance was still a secret.
So Sam sent a note to Nathan expressing her disappointment in canceling the walk, and telling him she understood if he did not wish to come to the house. After all, although there was a chance of seeing Clara, there was no chance of spending private time with her.
A few gentlemen had braved the elements and called that morning, but none of her three favorites had made an appearance and Sam had had to force herself to be sparkling and flirtatious. It would never have done to behave as depressed as she felt, because Julian had been the chaperon sitting in the parlor that morning and Sam had no intention of letting him see how his behavior the night before had affected her.
Sam was discouraged. How was she ever going to work her newly learned wiles on Julian when, despite an ardent kiss and nothing but a chemise between his hands and her bare skin, all he could think of doing was lecture her? And today he was acting more like a watchdog than a man, sitting and glowering at her gentleman callers as if daring them to misbehave.
And the aunts … It had been an amusing half hour that morning when Priss and Nan had invaded her bedchamber before breakfast and moralized ad nauseam about the perils of premarital sex. Then, having done their duty, they begged Sam to tell them exactly what she’d learned from the famous Isabelle Descartes. Sam imparted some of Isabelle’s advice as the aunts avidly listened, then they fanned their faces with their hands, cleared their throats, and gave their opinion that if all married women took lessons from a courtesan, more marriages would be happy ones.
Sam couldn’t agree more. But, sitting now, all alone in the library, with an open book in her lap and an ache in her heart, she wasn’t sure whether or not she’d ever have the opportunity to try out her newfound knowledge. She would never marry if she couldn’t marry Julian. And, at that very moment, Julian was with Charlotte Batsford. He’d announced his intention of visiting Charlotte directly after he’d taken lunch, which had been an extremely strained affair with the only conversation coming from Priss and Nan.
And now, since the aunts were doing needlework in the parlor for the Women’s Shelter, Sam had the whole dreary afternoon to get through, with nothing but a book for company. But as she stared out of the rain-streaked window at the stable yard, she got an idea. She’d ring for Clara and have her bring one of the dogs inside for a romp. Also, it would be an excuse to get Clara away from some of the extra duties her father insisted on giving her, and the two of them could talk about Nathan and Julian.
But as soon as Clara walked into the library, she took one look at Sam and burst into tears.
“Clara, what’s wrong?” Sam exclaimed, taking a wriggling Madison out of her arms and setting him on the carpet. “Tell me why you’re crying!”
Sam led Clara, who had covered her face with her hands and was paying absolutely no attention to where she was going, to a wing chair by the fire. Once seated, Clara slumped forward and continued to sob quite disconsolately, so Sam simply perched on the chair arm, patted her friend’s back, and murmured soothing words till the poor girl cried herself out. Sam knew she wouldn’t get any coherent explanation out of Clara till the worst of the storm had passed anyway, so she kept her questions for later.
Eventually Clara blindly groped for a handkerchief in her apron pocket, which Sam found and handed to her, then wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She looked pathetically at Sam through red-rimmed eyes.
“It’s hopeless, miss. I wished I’d never met Nathan Ford, because now I’ll spend the rest of my life wishing things had turned out differently. I’ll never love anyone else, you know, so I reckon I’m destined to be a childless spinster.”
“Have you seen Nathan today? Has something happened?” Sam demanded to know, standing up and looking down at Clara, her hackles raised. “Has that man done something to hurt you, Clara? Why, I’ll … I’ll—”
“Nathan’s done nothing,” Clara quickly clarified, her lip quivering. “The dear man’s done nothing but be everything a girl could ever want. Only this girl can’t have him.”
“Why do you say that, Clara? If Nathan didn’t do something to make you unhappy, who did?” Her voice lowered. “Was it your father?”
Clara’s eyes welled up again. “Just now when I was leading Madison in through the back door, he scolded me for favoring ‘that damned colonial’s mutt.’ He even kicked the poor pup in the hindquarters! He doesn’t dislike dogs as a rule, miss … except when they soil the floor, or chew things up, or bark … but he hates Madison just because Nathan gave him to you.” Clara swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.
Sam shook her head disgustedly.
“It all goes back to the fact that my mother ran off with that rich American farmer,” Clara continued. “That was years ago, so it’s foolish of me to hope his attitude will ever change. I might as well face the fact that my father will never give his blessing or his permission for me to marry Nathan,” she finished despairingly.
Sam crossed her arms and knitted her brows. “Does he know you’re in love with Nathan?”
“Bless me, no!” Clara exclaimed. “I’ve no doubt he’d take a strap to me if he knew! He’s very calm most of the time, but he’s got the devil of a temper when he loses control. By his angry reaction to my attachment to Nathan’s dog, I’m quite sure he wouldn’t take at all kindly to the fact that I’m a hundred times more attached to Nathan himself!”
“As I’m sure you know your father best,” Sam said thoughtfully, pacing the floor and rubbing her chin, “I have no choice but to believe you. Therefore, there’s only one thing left to do.”
Clara’s eyes widened as Sam stopped pacing and sat down again beside her. “What’s that, miss?”
“You have to elope.”
Clara pressed a hand flat against her chest. “La, miss. I couldn’t! My father would never forgive me!”
Sam cocked her head to the side and gave Clara a sober look. “Is keeping your father’s unreasonable rules more important to you than marrying the love of your life?”
“But my brothers and sisters … I’ll never see them again!”
“I don’t believe that,” was Sam’s firmly spoken opinion. “They’ll find a way to correspond with you, and maybe some of them will even follow you to America. In your new life, as the wife of a rich American horse breeder, you could do your brothers and sisters a world of good. Think about it, Clara. But in the end, don’t base your decision on what your father’s reaction might be, or on the fact that you could help out your siblings. You must decide if you love Nathan enough to leave everything behind and brave the future with him, and only him, by your side.” Sam smiled slyly. “That is, until the little ones come along.”
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nbsp; Clara blushed and chuckled nervously. “Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves? He hasn’t even officially asked me to marry him!” Bored with sniffing around the room, Madison rubbed up against her hand just then, and Clara reached down and stroked the dog’s head.
“Oh, but he will, Clara,” Sam said decisively, petting Madison, too. “He will! You know it, I know it, and Nathan knows it. And when he does, you’ll have to tell him that a dash to Gretna Green is the only way you’ll be able to tie the nuptial knot.”
“But how’s it to be done, miss?” Clara asked her. “How will I get away without my father knowing and following?”
“I’m sure Nathan will have some ideas,” Sam assured her. She smiled broadly and added stoutly, “And I’m going to help!”
Just then there was a discreet knock on the door and Hedley entered. Clara quickly ducked her head over the pup to hide her red, watery eyes, but the sharp-sighted butler gave her a questioning look and a disapproving frown anyway.
“What is it, Hedley?” said Sam, standing up and hovering in front of Clara to try to divert the butler’s attention away from his daughter.
Hedley fixed his gaze on Sam, but it was apparent that he was still wondering what the deuce was wrong with Clara.
“You have a visitor, miss. Mr. Wentworth is waiting to see you.”
“Is he in the parlor with Nan and Priss?” Sam asked unnecessarily, trying to give Clara as much time as possible to compose herself before she was left to the ruthless interrogation of her father.
“Of course, miss.”
“Good. Tell him I’ll be there presently, Hedley.” Hedley had not expected to be sent back to relay a message, but he only gritted his teeth a little before saying, “Very well, miss,” then turned on his heels and left the room.
“Now take Madison back to the stable and wash your face in cold water before he sees you again,” Sam hurriedly instructed her abigail. “If he asks you if you were crying, tell him you got something in your eye. And when you’re feeling more the thing, bring George to the small front parlor. I’m sure Ninian would love to see his pup!”
Clara nodded, snatched up Madison, and hurried out of the room before her father came back. And Sam headed for the parlor, eager to see Ninian after an unusual two-day absence.
When Sam entered the parlor, she was surprised to find Ninian alone. The two, well-padded chairs the aunts usually occupied by the fire were empty, but their scissors and thread and other sewing accoutrements were still scattered about as if they’d left in a rush. Ninian had his back turned to the door and was staring into the fire.
“Ninian?” Sam said, when he didn’t immediately turn around. “Where are my aunts? It’s not like them to abandon a visitor. Especially a gentleman caller!”
As Ninian turned slowly around, the forlorn expression on his face made her own welcoming smile disappear. “Good heavens, is something wrong? You look like you’ve just been told you need a tooth pulled!”
Ninian attempted a smile. “No, nothing’s wrong, Sam. Nothing at all.”
Sam frowned and shook her head. “I don’t believe you. Out with it, Ninian. ’Fess up. What’s bothering you?”
For the first time since she’d entered the room, Sam noticed that Ninian was dressed even fancier than usual. And for a dandy, that was saying something, indeed. He wore a lavender morning jacket, a daffodil-yellow waistcoat, and purple-striped trousers. His cravat was intricately tied and appeared so stiff, Sam marveled that he could even turn his head.
“My, you look quite dashing, Ninian,” she couldn’t help adding, hoping to bring a more natural smile to his lips. “What’s the occasion?”
“Well, Sam, the occasion is…” He bit his lip, stiffened his spine, and started over. “That is, your aunts didn’t desert me, I asked them to leave. You see, I wanted to talk to you … er … privately.”
Now Sam was really growing alarmed. “Something is the matter, isn’t it? Tell me what it is this instant, Ninian!”
Ninian shifted uncomfortably, his arms stiff at his sides and his hands—encased in lavender gloves—curled into fists. “Truly, nothing is wrong, Sam,” he said, his tone a trifle irritable. “The matter I came here to discuss with you today is not of a distressing nature. Rather, it is a thing that ought … nay, that will … bring a great deal of joy into my life if only you will agree to—That is, I wonder if you would be so good as to—Will you—”
Sam laughed. “Will I what, Ninian? Goodness, if I didn’t know you better I’d think you were—” Sam sobered as the truth dawned on her. Her eyes grew wide with surprise. “Good heavens, you aren’t trying to propose to me, are you?”
Ninian whirled around, pounding his thigh with his fist. “I told my mother it was a bad idea!” he cried, striding away toward the window and staring out over the rain-drenched street.
“Oh, Ninian, you misunderstood me!” Sam exclaimed, hurrying over to touch his arm and peer up into his face. “It’s not that I find the proposal disagreeable. It’s just that I’m extremely surprised!”
Ninian frowned down at her. “Mother said you were expecting me to propose. And she said I had better do it before someone else beat me to the point. Mother likes you, and she thinks—”
“But, Ninian, what do you think?” Sam interrupted with an encouraging smile. “I can’t suppose you were very keen on the idea of proposing to me. As I said when I first entered this room, you looked as though you were in need of a tooth drawn!”
Ninian blushed and chuckled, shaking his head with embarrassment. “Was I that transparent? I thought I probably looked nervous. I had not thought that I looked like I was in pain!”
“You looked like you were in pain of the most acute kind,” Sam assured him, laughing.
Ninian laughed with her, then suddenly sobered. “You mustn’t think my reluctance to propose any reflection on you, Sam,” he eagerly told her. “In fact, if I were to marry, I’d as soon marry you as anyone else. I like you excessively. You’re a real trump. But—”
“But you simply don’t want to get married to anyone right now … right?” Sam suggested.
Ninian gave a relieved sigh. “Exactly. And so I’ve told my mother a million times. But she won’t listen. She’s tried before to get me to propose to a number of females with all the proper requirements of money, connections, et cetera, but…” He shrugged.
“But you’ve refused to do it before?” Sam inquired.
“Every single time,” Ninian said proudly. “Despite her megrims and her swoons and her nervous palpitations.”
“Then why did you give in this time?”
“Because, as I said, I like you, Sam. And because…” Ninian sighed again, but not with relief. It was a sad sigh. “Because I’m finally convinced she’ll never put up the blunt to buy me a commission in the army. And I won’t have a single groat of my own beyond my quarterly allowance till she’s dead! And, though she can be the most colossal pain in the … neck, I don’t wish her dead! But, in the meantime, I am reduced to frittering away my time doing nothing. I have no profession, no employment, no independence whatsoever! Lord, I might as well be the Prince Regent for all the use I am to anybody! In short, I reckoned that marrying you would be much more diverting than picking out yet another waistcoat and learning a new way to tie my cravat!”
Sam caught both Ninian’s hands and turned him away from the dreary scene outside and toward her. She beamed up at him. “I’m so proud of you, Ninian. The majority of young men would be perfectly happy to do nothing but fritter away their time. You are better than the majority. You want to be about the business of something as useful and honorable as serving in the army. Your mother needs to be convinced that she’s doing you a horrible injustice by limiting you in this way!”
Ninian was blushing crimson from Sam’s praise. “By Jupiter, Sam, if you keep flattering me so, I shall end up asking you to marry me in earnest!”
Sam giggled. “What? And deprive the army of such a fine o
fficer?”
“I appreciate your confidence in me, Sam,” Ninian answered dejectedly, “but I won’t have a chance to prove myself a fine officer … at least, not for now. I suppose I shall have to continue to wait and hope, and fend off my mother’s continued attempts to make me marry. She insists I haven’t the gumption for the military!”
Sam looked coy. “What if someone—some occurrence, perhaps—convinces her otherwise?”
Ninian peered suspiciously down at Sam, his mouth curved in a faint smile. “Are you up to something, Sam?”
Sam nodded. “Indeed, I am. I have a plan. Would you like to hear it?”
Cautious, but hopeful, Ninian agreed to hear Sam’s plan. Therefore, they were sitting close together and were deep in conversation when Clara showed up ten minutes later with George. As they were basically finished going over the fine points of Sam’s plan, they happily greeted the pup and spent the next half hour romping with him on the rug. Their whoops of laughter could be heard clear down the hall in the library.
Julian had come home early from his visit with Charlotte. Since, owing to his run-in with Sam over the mistress business, he had not been in the best of spirits, Charlotte had suggested that he might benefit best from going home and having another talk with his ward. Charlotte reminded him that he was not used to being at odds with Sam; therefore, he was bound to be unhappy till they were on good terms again. After all, she was like a little sister to him … wasn’t she? Naturally, Charlotte didn’t know that Julian had kissed his “little sister.” And he wasn’t about to tell her. It had been a terrible mistake.
Then, as soon as he’d stepped across the threshold of Montgomery House, he was virtually attacked by Priss and Nan, the both of them telling him with a great deal of agitation that Ninian was at that very moment in the parlor proposing to Sam! As Ninian had not asked for permission to pay his addresses, Julian was a little surprised. But not for long. Certainly both Ninian and Nathan would propose to Sam. Julian had no desire to see her shackled to either man, but he very much feared that Ninian had no chance against Nathan, anyway. Nathan would doubtless win the day and cart her off to Virginia.