Samantha wanted to make a good impression on her new sister-in-law in spite of her homemade clothes. She tilted her head. Actually, the style wasn’t that bad. “Thank you, Langston. I appreciate your guidance.”
“Perhaps, my lady, you will recommend me to the duke. I am presently in search of good position.”
Samantha stared at the proud lady’s maid and felt a touch of panic—until she noticed how Langston’s gaze didn’t quite meet her own, and the stiffness in Langston’s shoulders. Here was another woman alone. Samantha immediately recognized the fears. But the thought of Langston being assigned to her permanently was intimidating. Yet she couldn’t turn her back on a soul in need. “Ah, perhaps.”
Apparently that was all Langston had expected her to say. The tension in her shoulders eased and she bossily ordered Samantha to hurry to meet the duke.
Samantha gathered her cape and bonnet, thankful to escape the woman’s presence.
When Langston said, “I will escort my lady to the breakfast parlor,” Samantha assured her she could find her way, feeling a need to separate herself from the maid’s self-seeking service. She slipped out the door before Langston could comment.
She had to walk carefully down the hall to the stairs because her hair was so heavy the pins felt as if they would fall out at any moment. Fortunately, the inn was quiet at this hour of the morning. In fact, it was so quiet that as she came down off the last step, she could hear arguing coming from the duke’s private room where they’d eaten a hasty dinner the night before.
Wayland was shouting, “You have responsibilities here in England! You have no right to even talk about dashing off and leaving it all to me!”
She paused outside the door, her hand on the handle.
“I was disinherited,” Yale answered. His voice lacked the heat of his brother’s. “I have no life here. My home, my work, everything is in Ceylon.”
“Perhaps at one time. But now you are back.”
“Wayland, I don’t want to stay in England.”
“Then why the bloody hell did you come back, if you didn’t plan to stay?”
“I returned to see Father. But I’m leaving, Wayland. I have my own money, my own life. I make no claim on the title for my living. My share was spent years ago getting me out of debt.”
“You are a damn stubborn fool!”
“Well, on that point, we may agree,” Yale said pleasantly. Samantha didn’t realize how close he was to the door until he pulled it open. She still held the door handle and stumbled into the room, catching herself before she landed sprawled on the floor.
Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment to have been caught so ignobly eavesdropping.
“Good morning, Sam,” Yale said, as if he hadn’t just dragged her into the room. “Styled your hair differently. I don’t like it. You look ridiculous.”
Her earlier good humor with him vanished. She held her head high. “It is all the fashion in London.”
“Ah, yes.” He paused and slid a glance at his brother. “I was never one to follow fashion. I’m going to see to Beast. I’ll wait for the two of you outside.”
Without another word he left.
Standing in the middle of the room, Wayland stared after him, hands on hips, his mouth set in disgust. Samantha wanted to say she hadn’t really been eavesdropping…but that would have sounded stupid, so she remained quiet.
Fenley shut the door, taking her hat and cape from her. “Would you care for grilled sausages and eggs, my lady?”
“Yes, please,” she said quickly, and took a seat at the table.
Wayland didn’t speak, but threw himself down in the chair opposite hers. Lost in thought, he stared at the pattern in the carpet.
Fenley set the plate in front of her and Samantha busied herself with her breakfast. She sliced off a piece of sausage and was just about to put it in her mouth when Wayland blurted out, “He is being ridiculous, you know.”
Samantha shot a glance at Fenley, who told her with a raise of his eyebrows that he didn’t know what to expect, either.
“No matter what he thinks he has built for himself,” Wayland continued, “I’m offering him a great deal more. After all, we are his family.” He looked to Samantha for confirmation.
Realizing he expected an answer, she murmured, “Yes, that’s true.”
Wayland came to his feet and started pacing the perimeter of the room. “It’s not like I’m asking too much. He has an obligation to help carry the family responsibilities. But does he realize that? No! He insists on living his own life. Taking off whenever he wishes and leaving me with the majority of the burden.”
Samantha chewed the sausage slowly, uncomfortable with the topic.
Wayland looked at her. “Being a duke isn’t that much fun,” he said candidly. “I could use help, especially from someone who knows what he is doing, like my brother. Imagine, Yale is the owner of Rogue Shipping. He may have botched his boyhood Latin lessons, but he possesses the keen sort of business savvy we need in this family.”
She swallowed the sausage. “What of your sister? Isn’t she married? Can’t her husband help?”
“That twit!” He immediately regretted the words. “Don’t tell her I said that. She thinks the world of him, but I don’t trust him. His eyes are too small. Besides, Samantha, it has to do with blood. Yale can’t turn his back on me. We’re blood. Can you understand that?”
“It’s not a question of what I understand, Your Grace, but of what Yale believes.”
“Yes,” Wayland agreed. “But what I fear most is that once he leaves a second time, he will never return.” He lapsed into a glum silence, his hands behind his back.
Samantha’s appetite left her. She set the fork down on her plate.
It would have been easier to accept the inevitable if she and Yale had not talked last night. Part of her wanted still to think of him as a scoundrel.
The other part of her had carefully packed the hothouse rose in tissue paper.
The duke’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Samantha, you and my brother do get along reasonably well, don’t you?”
She looked up at him, suddenly wary. She was conscious that Fenley’s ears, too, had perked up. “Do you mean, in spite of his misrepresenting himself when we married and his planning on leaving me?”
“Oh, that,” Wayland said dismissively. “Yes, well, the two of you may not have gotten off to the best start, but things are close between you, aren’t they?”
Samantha sat back. “I’m not certain what you mean.”
Wayland sat in the chair across from her. He leaned across the table, pressing the palms of his hands together. “Close. You’ve been close, haven’t you?”
Samantha felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “We get along.” She wasn’t going to confess more than that.
Wayland lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh, come, Samantha, you do a bit more than just ‘get along.’”
“I do not know what you mean,” she said, attempting to be obtuse.
“Squire Biggers said the two of you literally shook the floorboards.”
Samantha’s mouth dropped open. She was astounded the duke would say such a thing. She glanced over her shoulder at Fenley, who seemed inordinately interested in a speck on one of the silver dishes. “It wasn’t quite like that,” she hedged.
“They could hear the two of you.”
“Hear what?” she asked, almost frightened of the answer.
“Apparently, either you or Yale were quite loud in your enjoyment.” Wayland shrugged. “It happens.”
The walls of the room seemed to close in on Samantha. She moved her mouth, but no words came out.
Wayland reached across the table and took her hands. “Here now, I’ve embarrassed you, and that was not my intent. I merely wish to speak frankly because I am going to approach a delicate subject.”
“I don’t know if I can take much more frankness, Your Grace,” Samantha replied honestly.
&nb
sp; He looked over at Fenley and signaled with his eyes for the servant to leave the room. Once the door had closed behind him, Wayland asked, “Have you and my brother—” He paused as if considering his words, “made love on this trip? You do understand what I’m asking now, don’t you?”
The breath left Samantha with a soft whoosh. She should have pulled her hand away, but he held it fast.
“I—I don’t think I shall answer that.”
One corner of Wayland’s mouth turned down. “You haven’t. Damn, that’s what I suspected.”
“And why did you suspect that?” she asked with genuine surprise.
“There is an energy about my brother, a restlessness, that’s made me wonder if he was, ah, fulfilled or not.”
Samantha didn’t need an explanation of what “fulfilled” meant. Did all men have nothing but one thing on their minds?
Releasing her hand, Wayland sat back in his chair. “I was newly married once. I well remember the intense desire of new lovers. I offered Yale the privacy of the coach yesterday, but he turned it down.”
“The privacy of the coach?”
“Yes. You haven’t made love until you’ve done it in a well-sprung coach.” He smiled at the memory.
Samantha’s senses reeled at his bold words. She came up out of the chair. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be so frank.”
Wayland also rose to his feet. “Oh, wait, I’ve put your back up, and that wasn’t what I meant to do. I forget how sheltered your life has been.”
“Being sheltered has nothing to do with it! You may be the head of the family, Your Grace, but I don’t believe what happens between Yale and myself is your business.”
He gave her a quizzical smile. “When you talk in such a manner, you sound exactly as high-handed and independent as my stubborn brother.”
Samantha changed the subject. “Isn’t it time we left?” She moved for her cape and bonnet hanging on a peg by the door, but he stepped into her path.
“It is time—but first I have a favor to ask of you, Samantha, and it is so important, the horses can wait a moment longer.”
“What is it?” she asked, fearing his answer.
“Sit down, please,” he begged her, and refused to say another word until she had honored his request.
He knelt down beside her chair. “If anyone has any influence over Yale, it is you.”
She almost laughed out loud. “He wishes to leave me behind as much as he is determined to leave you, Your Grace.”
“But you can change all that.” He took her hand in his. “You see, I think Yale would like to be close with you.”
“Yale would like to be close with anything in skirts,” she countered tartly.
“Don’t deceive yourself, Samantha. He is far more discriminating than that. Always has been.”
“Yes? Well then, why was he disinherited?”
Now it was Wayland’s turn to look ill at ease. “That is another story for another day, my dear.”
Samantha tilted her head, studying him a moment. “I’d always heard there were women involved.”
“Yes, but what do you care if he chased a brigade of them? All that happened years ago. Besides, Father didn’t disinherit Yale for his interest in the fairer sex. He would have disinherited me if that had been the case. No, Father was upset with the money Yale squandered. But my brother has mended his ways. He couldn’t have built his own shipping company if he hadn’t.”
She digested this a moment, having to shift her picture of her brother-in-law. She had trouble seeing Wayland as a ladies’ man.
“I know you and Yale are not a love match, but I don’t share your opinion that he is indifferent to you.”
Now he had Samantha’s complete attention. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I’ve seen him watch you, Samantha. I’m a man. I know what he’s thinking. He wouldn’t be making this trip to London if it weren’t for you.”
“But I can’t influence him to stay. He told me the morning after our wedding that he was going to leave. He has not changed his mind.”
“But he has not left yet,” Wayland said pointedly. He lowered his voice. “I believe that if you tried, Samantha, you could convince him to stay.”
She looked down at her lap. She was pressing pleats into her skirt with her fingers. “I don’t know.”
Wayland’s arm came around her chair. “I admit, it wasn’t a good trick that he played, marrying you under a false name and all that. But he does have a plausible explanation. And you must understand my position. I wish to keep my family intact. I’ve already spent years without my brother, and I refuse to spend more. I need him. The estate needs him.”
Still holding her hand, he traced the back of it with his thumb before saying, “I’m going to ask a favor of you, and I fear, knowing what I do of your character, it will be a difficult request. But for the good of the family, I’m going to ask it anyway.”
She held her breath.
“I want you to get my brother to fall in love with you.”
Samantha almost fell out of the chair. “Have you gone mad?” she managed to sputter. “Yale is the last man I could imagine being led around by his nose.”
“Oh, no,” Wayland differed with a superior laugh. “We can all be easily led with the right enticement. And unless I miss my guess, my brother is enamored of you. You seem to have aroused in him a sense of chivalry. It would not take much more than a little warmth on your part to make him listen to reason.”
“Warmth?”
Wayland’s steady gaze met hers. “You know, make the floorboards shake.”
Samantha came to her feet before he could stop her. She marched halfway across the room. “Do you realize what you are asking?”
“Nothing more than what you have already given,” he responded plainly. “In fact, I believe the Church considers it your duty.”
She faced Wayland. “I can’t. It’s about principle and values. From listening to you speak about your wife, I thought you understood those things.”
Wayland came to his feet. “I do, I do…but this is about family. Yale is a far cry from the wayward youth he was at nineteen. He’s a man to be respected. I want him to stay in England. He doesn’t need Rogue Shipping or anything else. Not really. However, the Ayleborough estates and all the business, enterprises, and responsibilities that go with them are vast. Yale can help me ensure the family’s future for generations to come. My sons need him. Your children need him. I will do anything to keep him from leaving England.”
Samantha placed the flat of her hand against her stomach. Children. She could already be carrying Yale’s child. What would she say to that child when he grew old enough to ask where his father was? Wayland had a valid point. The Carderock name would be part of her child’s birthright.
And yet she had her pride. Her principles.
“What I understand, Your Grace,” she said, her voice shaking slightly with emotion, “is that you want me to compromise myself on the altar of your wishes. Your request makes a mockery of the sacrament of marriage. Yale did not mean the vows he took with me. His intention has always been to leave me. I will not beg him to stay. Or seduce him.”
The duke’s lips pressed into a thin line. He seemed to weigh what she had to say and then walked over to her. “Samantha, your high-strung sense of honor is, however admirable, a bit of an irritant. I am not accustomed to being refused when I make what I consider a reasonable request. I’m opening my home to you. I’ve embraced you as a sister. Your refusal to help my family in return is—” He paused as if to consider the right word. “Distressing.”
Samantha felt as if her heart had stopped beating. “I must be true to myself.”
“Nonsense. Everyone is asked at one time or another to make a sacrifice for the good of the whole.”
“And what if I discover I cannot honor your request?” she asked faintly.
“Why would you want to refuse me?” Wayland countered politely, but Samantha could sense a
chasm growing between them.
He said, “My role in this family is to keep it together. That has been the duke of Alyeborough’s role for succeeding generations. My father was a shrewd man. His wise investments built the family coffers to what they are today, but once Yale left, he considered himself a failure. If my brother leaves a second time, I will consider myself a failure, too. Can you understand that, Samantha?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Family is important, Samantha. It is the only reason any of us is here. Without it, life would be a cold, lonely existence.” He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Samantha stood rooted to the floor. Life was lonely without family. After the past year, she knew that all too well.
Of course, Yale had offered to buy her a house of her own. She was not without resources. She did not have to sacrifice her principles.
Then she thought of Yale’s description last night of Penhurst, the duke’s London residence. She thought about the possibility that she could be with child…and did not want the child ostracized by its uncle, the great duke of Ayleborough.
Or that she would be alone. Again.
His words had been couched as a request, but there had been a ducal command behind it. He was not a man to be crossed.
Slowly she raised her hands and began pulling the pins out of her hair. It tumbled down around her shoulders. Without the aid of a mirror, she plaited it into a single braid…and felt a bit more like herself—plain Samantha Northrup, the vicar’s unwanted daughter.
She pulled her gloves on and then, picking up her cape and worn bonnet, left the room.
Outside the horses were stamping impatiently. Yale waited astride the Beast. His and the animal’s breath came out in small puffs of frigid air. Fenley stepped forward and helped her don her cape.
“Sam, I was beginning to fear you were not coming!” Yale greeted her. The duke was already inside the coach.
Because of You Page 17