Realizing he could not put off acknowledging her longer, Kenneth entered the drawing room. “Good afternoon, Mother. Catherine,” he greeted as both pairs of eyes settled upon him.
Catherine stood. “Your mother made the long journey here to speak with you. I’ll give you some privacy.” She squeezed his arm before closing him in the room.
“Despite her troubling past, that girl has grown up right.”
Shrugging, Kenneth slid into a seat. He didn’t wish to discuss Catherine or her past. Guilt still engulfed him to think of how his father had used her to pay off their lavish lifestyle and Kenneth’s gambling debts.
“What brings you to London?” he inquired. “I don’t think you’ve been here since you met Father.”
“Is it so wrong to want to be part of your life?”
“Yes.” Kenneth leaned his elbows on his knees. “The time for that has long passed.”
She put her nose in the air and sniffed. “Then I don’t suppose you wish to know what I have come to tell you.”
“If you want to tell me, I’m not averse to hearing it. Otherwise . . .”
She bristled. “Well, I shall tell you anyway. Maybe you will care to learn one of your dear, loyal employees has deserted us at Berwick.”
Kenneth kept his face neutral as he ran staff members through his mind. Whose departure would have such an effect on his mother? He could think of no one who held any importance to her.
“I can’t see how the loss could have any lasting effects. We will replace whomever is gone, if necessary.”
Her eyes narrowed. “He’s here isn’t he? That’s why you left in such a rush?”
The realization hit him. Sam. His mother came here expecting to find Sam in London. Kenneth resisted a groan. His inability to stay away from Samantha made a damned fine mess at home. He had to admit he wouldn’t miss sneaking around with Samantha dressed as a stable boy.
“Mother, why would I bring one of our employees to London?”
“Because you learned his secret. Tell me, is Sam or his master blackmailing you? Is that why you are so intent on marrying an heiress?”
“Enough. The boy had no secrets. I seek to wed in order to sustain Berwick, nothing else. You can put Sam from your thoughts. He indicated to Mr. Oliver he had no desire to remain on.”
She let out a long sigh and smiled. “Then let us return home to Berwick. Marriage isn’t the only way to obtain funds. I can help. Between the two of us, the estate will manage just fine.”
Her offer almost tempted him. If not for her highhanded way of treating him, he may have agreed. Regardless, in the end he would find himself at Berwick with an unwanted baroness.
Samantha knew the minute Kenneth arrived in the ballroom. She wished her body wasn’t so in tune with him. From her vantage point beside her grandmother, she observed him greeting the host and hostess. They both appeared to welcome him as a friend of the family.
When he stood before Miss Doutree, he said something to her, making her laugh and blush. The fact the girl looked nothing like Samantha hadn’t escaped her notice. Was the lady the type of woman he normally felt attracted to? Had availability been the only reason why he pursued Samantha at Berwick?
“Lady Samantha, our waltz?” Lord Klein offered his arm.
As he took her onto the dance floor, she couldn’t help but notice who Kenneth escorted. Miss Doutree apparently had no skills for dancing, but Kenneth managed to pull her along favorably.
Unfortunately for Samantha, her preoccupation and lack of familiarity with dance made her just as clumsy. Lord Klein, however, was no help at all. Seeing his mouth turned down in obvious disapproval, she smiled apologetically at him.
“I see you have a wandering mind again,” Lord Klein observed.
“I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Seeing as this is a common occurrence, I must know. Is there something in particular you are drawn to, or are you prone to inattentiveness?”
Her eyes whipped up to meet his as she missed another few steps. Irritation shone on his face. She began to believe Lord Klein was not the gentleman he wanted her to believe.
The dance ended, saving her from answering. As he guided her away from the dancers, she ducked her head down, hoping he wouldn’t push the question. She didn’t realize his intended destination until she felt the wind on her face from the open terrace doors. She stopped.
“Klein,” Kenneth called from behind, forcing them to turn around. “Miss Doutree indicated this next set is hers. Do you intend to insult her?”
Samantha looked at the lady who smiled and batted her eyes at Lord Klein. Having no desire to visit the gardens with him, Samantha released his arm and took Kenneth’s, who didn’t seem to mind.
“I don’t want to keep you from your dance. I’m sure Lord Berwick wouldn’t mind accompanying me in your stead.”
Kenneth placed his warm hand on their linked arms in a possessive manner. “I would be happy to.”
Without waiting for his response, Kenneth sidestepped Lord Klein and took her out the terrace doors. When he guided her to stand against the railing instead of going further out, she slumped her shoulders in relief.
“We need to talk.” Kenneth’s voice sounded conversational, but his intense eyes delved into her, seeking out her secrets.
She gulped. “As you wish, my lord.”
“We can meet in the library. All you need to do is-”
“No.” She glanced about to make sure no one could overhear them. “I will not meet you in a clandestine place.”
He shook his head, and then with a sigh, led her into the garden. His response filled her with nerves. Did he wish to speak of marriage again? She hoped not. The very thought slowed her steps. He shot her a quizzical glance, but otherwise didn’t halt.
Seeing a bench off to the side, she turned him toward it and pulled her hand from him. She had no idea where his destination was, but she refused to go any deeper into the garden.
“This is far enough.” She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her face to meet his. “Now, what did you need to speak to me about?”
He mirrored her position as he glared down at her. “Lord Klein.”
“I don’t see how he is any of your concern. Therefore, we have nothing to talk about.”
She turned to leave, but Kenneth grabbed her upper arm. After shrugging him off, she faced him.
“Miss Doutree and I didn’t go through the trouble for me to be unable to speak my piece. I want you to stay away from Lord Klein.”
“Why? He has done nothing wrong.”
“Don’t defend him. You know nothing about him except the lies he has told you,” Kenneth warned. “For example, did you know he is in search of an heiress?”
She gasped, partially from the knowledge and part from the vehemence in Kenneth’s tone. “L-Lots of men are.”
“He lost his fortune at the gaming tables, similar to me, and now he has selected you to fill his coffers and put him back in the card room.”
Although she believed him, his conviction that Lord Klein only wanted her for her dowry hurt more than she cared to admit. Did he honestly feel she had so little worth? Tears sprung to her eyes as anger caused her to clench her fists.
“Never in my life have I been so thoroughly insulted. You have made it clear my only worth is for the wedding settlement.”
“That is not what I meant, I-”
“No.” She slashed her hand through the air. “I don’t want to hear any more from you. Lord Klein may only want me for my dowry, but at least he has the decency to keep the knowledge to himself. You, on the other hand, continuously feel the need to remind me.” She spun around.
“Samantha, wait.”
Forcing herself to unclench her hands, she paused. “Save your excuses. I’m done talking, and I never want to see you again.”
Her heart ached as she marched away from him. How could she have been so foolish? The man who worked to better the life of an
orphaned boy and who replaced her chairs and repaired her roof no longer existed. Those sweet months at Berwick introduced her to a man who was a lie. The true Kenneth rejected her, plagued her, and insulted her. With each revelation, walking away from him became easier.
By the time she and her grandmother entered the carriage to return home, Samantha felt drained. Overall, she didn’t care for London. Not only were the entertainments overwhelming, but the people were false.
The urge to run away struck her. Dropping her eyelids, she took a deep breath. She could establish herself as Sam on another estate again. The thought brought a burning sensation to the back of her eyes. She could do it, and find a way to survive.
“What is troubling you, my dear?” Her grandmother patted Samantha’s knee.
“I suppose I’m growing weary of London,” Samantha answered, too raw to come up with another reason. “Coming from the country, the constant activity is a bit much to handle.”
“In that case, I have wonderful news for you. The Marquis and Marchioness of Stonemede have asked us to their estate in the country for the holidays. Apparently your relationship with Lady Grace brought about an invitation to attend their yearly family gathering.”
“Although I’m flattered, I don’t believe joining the party will alleviate my tired soul. Don’t concern yourself over me, I only wished to be honest.”
Her grandmother sat forward and grasped Samantha’s cold fingers. “You are not the same girl who entered Lord Burford’s ballroom. Tell me what happened.”
Repressed tears fell unbidden down Samantha’s cheeks. She couldn’t hide her pain any longer. What would her grandmother think of her? Fixing her gaze on her clasped hands, she took a deep breath.
“I fell in love with a gentleman who does not return the sentiment.”
“Are you certain? Some gentlemen are more guarded than others.”
Samantha nodded. “His harsh words this evening made his stance regarding me very clear.”
“May I know his name? I can ensure he leaves you alone.”
Lifting her gaze to her grandmother’s worried eyes, Samantha wondered if she should tell. Remembering Kenneth’s callous words swayed her decision. He cared nothing for her, so why should she spare him? But still . . .
“He isn’t important.”
“Of course not.” Her grandmother sat back and tapped her fingers against her chin. “How would you like to disappear for a while? I enjoy traveling this time of year. We could leave and wouldn’t have to return until you are ready.”
Stunned, she stared at her grandmother. An escape. Giddiness rose in Samantha’s chest.
“Could we really? Oh, Grandmother, I would love to.”
“Then it is settled. We can leave tomorrow if you’d like.”
“Yes.” A smile broke out across Samantha’s face as she threw herself into her grandmother’s arms.
“I’m pleased you are excited.” She touched Samantha’s cheek. “Since we will no longer be in London, or England for that matter, can you tell me his name?”
“Kenneth Rawson, Baron Berwick.”
Chapter 11
Kenneth rolled over and stared at the ceiling of Samantha’s old house. Nothing he had done in regard to her had been right. Had he simply agreed to marry her on that last night they shared together, she would probably be naked and in this very bed with him right now. Instead, he lay here alone, feeling sorry for himself.
After spending the holidays with Richard’s family and friends, Kenneth hadn’t felt the desire to return to London like the rest of them. However, another Season was almost upon him, and he had to make another decision.
Should he continue to lie around and allow his mother to run his life and estate? Or should he return to London and marry the first heiress he could find?
Neither solution appealed to him.
The door opening made him jump to his feet. To his surprise, Froste poked his head in. Knowing his friend posed no danger, Kenneth took a seat on the bed.
“What are you doing here?” Kenneth demanded.
“Such a greeting.” Froste shook his head. “And here I tore myself from London for you.”
“I didn’t request your presence, so go back there.”
Kenneth still hadn’t forgiven his friend for interfering with Samantha. Froste had never made any excuses, merely claimed he did the right thing. A traitorous thought entered Kenneth’s mind. Why hadn’t his friend intervened sooner? Then he would be spared from the torment of his memories.
“The baroness summoned me. Your refusal to talk to her, combined with your extended disappearances, has made her worry.”
“Let her be concerned.”
Froste shook his head and sat down on one of the chairs Kenneth had purchased for Samantha.
“I can’t begin to understand how you feel, but if you keep coming here, someone else is bound to come looking for you. After being told of the direction you took, I easily located you.”
“Why does it matter? I’m not hurting anyone out here, and my mother enjoys running the house on her own. She already indicated such numerous times to me.”
“I can’t answer for your mother’s actions, but I can help you with yours. Why don’t you allow me to fix up another house for you to disappear in? Did you know there are a number of them closer to the estate?”
Kenneth eyed his friend closely. Had Froste gone mad? Why did it matter that he wanted to be in Samantha’s house? She wasn’t coming back.
“I’m content to remain here.”
After closing his eyes for a brief moment, Froste leaned forward in his chair. “Don’t you know what could happen to you? Or your family? You must not forget what happened to the Viscount Tarrington. It could happen to you too.”
The memory of their conversation about the viscount easily returned to Kenneth’s mind. At the time, he thought Samantha was a boy and related to Tarrington’s situation. Kenneth groaned as he silently cursed himself.
“That is not going to happen to me.”
“I know Sam is gone, but your presence here, as well as the lavish furnishings”-Froste waved a hand toward the bed–“indicate you shared a very close relationship.”
Fear sliced through him as a thought entered his mind. “Have you told my mother all this?”
“Certainly not. She has her own theories, and I’m happy to allow her to believe them. I only took her advice to encourage Sam to leave in order to help you.”
Kenneth laughed, a mirthless sound. Help him? The very thought was a joke. No one could help him.
“My mother was right in regard to Sam. He had a secret, an immense one at that. Sam is a woman. The boy who mucked out stalls and shared in boyhood adventures is really Samantha.”
Froste’s jaw dropped. In all of Kenneth’s recollections, it was the first time his friend could find nothing to say.
“Why?”
“She was hiding from something, but wouldn’t tell me what. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“I’m so sorry I made her leave. I honestly didn’t know. My head accepted what everyone thought to be the truth.”
Rubbing his temples, Kenneth knew he had to assuage his friend’s guilt. “You didn’t make her leave. I did.”
“What happened?”
“Suffice it to say, I’m a fool and no amount of groveling could ever encourage her to forgive me.”
“Then forget her.” Froste shrugged. “Come to London with me. We can grace the beds of every available woman, then leave the country with your heiress on your arm.”
Although Kenneth didn’t want to take the chance of running into Samantha, he couldn’t resist the urge to marry and end his torture. In addition, bedding another woman would cure him of the image of milky white skin, soft brown hair, and sultry smiles.
Two days later, Kenneth found himself stuffed inside the carriage with his mother. Unfortunately, the woman had insisted on accompanying him, and he’d been powerless to refuse her.
“I still don’t know why you’re insisting on doing this. Hasn’t the estate been managing fine without some girl’s dowry these past months?”
“I have completely depleted the coffers and spent the last shilling received from my investments. To my account, that is not managing fine.”
She drew her lips into a hard line. “You didn’t give it enough time. The tenants’ rent has been-”
“Not enough.” Kenneth gripped his seat in an attempt to keep from strangling his mother. “It matters not how much or how long. Regardless, I shall wed before the end of the Season.”
“You are much too young to make such a decision. Why not wait until you have at least reached your thirtieth year?”
Closing his eyes, Kenneth did his best to block out his mother’s voice. He sincerely resented being forced to remain in the carriage with her. He fully intended to find his bride quickly in an attempt to end her incessant nagging. Once that was done, she would move to the dowager house and back to the role she had previously played in his life.
With so many ladies wanting a husband, how hard could it be to locate one suitable?
Samantha untied and tossed her bonnet into a chair. Then she gratefully dropped herself into the seat beside it with a hiss of protest from the layers of material she wore. Both the hat and dress were the latest fashions purchased directly from Paris. She had never realized how indulgent clothes could be until she’d felt the first slide of silk against her body months ago.
“It sure feels good to be home.” Her grandmother acknowledged, as she took on a similar position to Samantha’s. “I do adore my travels, but nothing is quite like this place.”
Catching the Baron Page 12