Brandy in hand, Vail lifted his glass, and said, “To my brother, who loved women, perhaps a bit too much.”
The rest of them raised their glasses, and echoed, “To Thomas.”
“How you holding up?” Redgrave asked as Vail settled into the brown leather chair behind the desk.
Vail took a deep breath and let it out on a heavy sigh. “Better, now that it’s over.”
An odd thing for one to say at the passing of a loved one, but Chad could understand completely. His father had been in pain—suffering horribly from the cancer. It would a blessing when he passed, no matter how much Chad would miss him.
“Thomas was ill for over two years, it was time.”
Chad leaned against the mantle and took another long swig of his brandy. It felt good, as if it were chasing away the pain—or at least burning it.
“You never mentioned what Thomas suffered from,” Redgrave said into the quiet.
It was a forward thing to ask, but it was bound to come out sometime.
Adam snorted. “Ah, that was because Grandfather would not have anyone know. Fear of gossips wagging their tongues and all of that rot.” He swigged his brandy then set the glass down with an audible thud. “My dear fellows, Thomas died of the pox.”
St. Giles cleared his throat. “Usually that disease doesn’t kill so young.”
“True.” Adam took another drink. “But, add an addiction to the poppy and a deep appreciation for brandy, and one’s fate is sealed.” Adam shook his head and took another drink. “I didn’t realize how bad it was until Thomas was returned home. The restlessness, anxiety, he wasn’t sleeping, stomach cramps and nausea. I wanted him to break the addiction but grandfather couldn’t stand to see him in so much pain.”
“What did he do?” Lord Michael asked.
“Provided an endless supply of laudanum,” Adam replied. “I’m still not certain if it was one thing that brought about the end, or the combination, but at least my brother is now at peace.”
Now at peace. Chad’s father soon would be too. At peace. He tried to tell himself it was for the best. He could have suffered for many years, as Thomas Vail had, but in the grand scheme of things, his father’s suffering had been brief. Though Chad desperately wished he’d not had to suffer at all. That the horrific disease had found someone else to inflict. Someone who wasn’t so good or kind or generous.
After more brandy, reminiscing, and some arguing over the Beck brothers’ sister, Chad’s thoughts wandered straight back to Lady Samantha. The clock on the mantle told him it was nearly one o’clock, and the clouds looming in the distance made him worry he might miss his opportunity to stroll through the gardens with the lovely redhead.
“I beg your pardon, gentlemen,” Chad said, drawing the surprised attention of the other men in the room. Perhaps they’d forgotten he was even there in the first place. “I’m afraid I must be going.”
“Of course, Kendall,” Vail said, rising from his chair once again. “Allow me to see you out.”
Chad held up a hand. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Well, then…thank you for coming today.”
“I hope our next meeting shall be on happier terms.”
“Indeed.”
And with that, Chad bid adieu to the rest of the party and then made his way back to Lady Samantha.
Chapter 14
By the time luncheon rolled around, Samantha was somewhat beside herself, wondering when she’d see Mr. Kendall for their walk. She had no clue when to expect him back at the castle—she hadn’t even known he’d be attending the Thomas Vail funeral that morning until she inquired of the butler, whom he’d apparently informed of his destination as he left that morning. To be truthful, she wasn’t even certain who Thomas Vail was—only that he’d died. And with his father’s impending death, it was possible Mr. Kendall would want to be alone, but Sam hoped that wasn’t the case. She’d never been the care-taker type—even as a small child, she’d never gravitated toward playing with dolls, and especially not caring for or even playing with her own baby brothers. It wasn’t that she didn’t love them, she just hadn’t felt the need to take care of them. Not like Cassy, anyhow, who practically melted at the sight of anything small, human or otherwise.
And yet, here she was, wanting to care for Mr. Kendall. She hated the look of sadness in his eyes last night, the worry on his brow. If she’d been brave enough, she’d have reached up to smooth the wrinkles, and maybe even kiss away the sadness.
Not that she thought so highly of herself that she could do such a thing. One couldn’t just kiss away the pain of losing someone dear to them. But if she could ease it, she’d be most satisfied.
Being that she wanted to run into Mr. Kendall, Sam remained on the main floor, taking luncheon with her cousins, and then taking herself off to the main parlor to sit by the fire with the book she’d retrieved from the library that morning.
Time dragged on, and she was nearly ready to jump out of her skin, when finally, he walked through the doors of the main parlor.
Sam had to steady her breath, her nerves, and swallow down the lump that rose to her throat. Not the kind of lump that one experiences when one cries, but the kind that simply renders one completely mute out of shock. Was he this handsome last night? Perhaps it had been too dark to see. And in the dim hallway yesterday, too, she’d not experienced him in all his glory. But now…
The dark black of his clothes stood out in stark contrast to the light, airy drawing room, cloaked in pale blues and yellows. He nearly sucked up all the air, for heaven’s sake! So tall and impressively built, like a statue, carved to perfection.
“Lady Samantha,” he said, striding right to where she sat and bowing over her. A lock of his sun-kissed hair fell over his eye as he bowed, but then fell right back into place as he stood up straight.
“Mr. Kendall,” she breathed, coming quickly to her feet. “Why, I heard you had gone to a funeral this morning.” And then she stopped, because what did one say beyond that? I hope it wasn’t too sad? I hope you weren’t terribly close? Was it extra painful because of your father? No, she couldn’t say any of those things.
But if he thought it strange that she didn’t go on, he didn’t say anything. He only nodded. “Brother of a friend who lives nearby. I didn’t know him well, but I was happy to attend in support of the brother I did know well.”
“Of course,” Sam said. “How very kind of you.”
And then she waited, praying he still wanted to walk with her this afternoon.
“I do believe you promised me a walk through the gardens, did you not?”
Relief rushed through Samantha. “I believe that is correct, sir.” She smiled up at him, and he smiled back, and it was as if the world stood still. Or tilted on its axis. Or some other such nonsense that apparently happened when one became smitten. It all seemed to happen at once, and Sam had to remind herself that she was being foolhardy. That Mother and Father would never approve. That she was only setting herself up for heartbreak. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself. She looped her arm through his and followed him through the castle to the doors that led out to the verandah and down into the expansive gardens below.
The clouds were getting thicker and darker as the day went on. It was a possibility they’d be drenched by the time they returned to the castle, but thus was the weather in England. Though it was a bit colder here than in Somerset, and Sam attributed it to the proximity to the sea. A cold wind whipped around them, and she was inclined to pull her shawl more tightly about her as they reached the garden path.
“I am so sorry,” Mr. Kendall said, and only then did Samantha realize he’d stopped a few paces back.
Sam whirled to face him. “For what, Mr. Kendall?”
“I believe it is far too cold for a walk today. Why, you’re shivering already.”
A little giggle bubbled up in Samantha. “You needn’t worry on my account, Mr. Kendall. I quite like the cold. Besides, it isn’t much warmer i
n the castle anyhow.”
He seemed to concede the point, for he smiled, nodded his head and began walking again. “If you catch your death, I would like to be absolved of blame.”
“Duly noted.”
They walked on for a few minutes in silence. Sam quite enjoyed being silent with him. Odd, that, but there weren’t many people who were content with being quiet.
“Did you have a nice morning?” Mr. Kendall finally spoke, and Sam shrugged.
“I suppose it could have been worse.”
“That good?” he laughed, and it made Sam’s heart skip a beat.
“It was rather uneventful…” I was waiting for you for what felt like an eternity. “So I took myself off to read.”
“Until I came along,” he finished.
“Until you came along,” she confirmed.
“And have you been cured of your boredom?”
“Almost.” Samantha giggled.
“Did I hear your sister has a dog with her?”
Sam scrunched her face up. “Oscar. Have you had the misfortune of meeting him yet?”
Chad laughed in earnest, and she felt rather proud at having made him do so. “Not an animal lover, then?”
“Oh, it’s not that! But my affections tend to run toward the feline species.”
“Cats are indeed most interesting creatures, but the right pup can make you fall in love as well.”
And the right man. “Perhaps,” Sam said, choking a bit on the word. How could she feel so comfortable with him in silence and so very unnerved when they conversed? “Do you have a canine friend back home, then?”
“No.” He shook his head, and his tawny curls swished with the motion. “Not anymore at least.”
“Goodness, I seem to have a knack for bringing up rather sore subjects with you, don’t I?”
He looked down at her, his hazel eyes so kind they made her feel so warm inside every time he glanced her way. “I’m afraid much of my life is a sore subject right now…with one exception.”
It took Sam a moment, but she finally realized he was talking about her. At least, she thought he was. She didn’t really want to jump to conclusions and have him say, Oh, no, I was talking about the dessert at dinner tonight—I’m most looking forward to it!
So she settled on, “Is that so?”
“It is so, Lady Samantha,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. And then, just as the heavens began to mist down upon them, he lowered his face to hers until they were but an inch apart. He smelled of bergamot and leather and brandy, and all things male, which did something to her, deep inside of her, that she couldn’t quite explain, but wanted desperately to understand.
And then his lips pressed to hers, and—
“Ow!”
Mr. Kendall reared back as Sam reached up to rub the back of her head. What in the world? And just as the pain started to subside, there came another pelt to her skull. And then another, and another.
“What the devil?”
In an instant, Mr. Kendall’s arms were around her shoulders, leading her in a run away from their assailant, down a smaller path that broke off from the main path. Samantha hated to admit that she was scared, but in truth, she was terrified. Who on earth would target her like that? And why? Surely not one of her cousins, and hadn’t she seen Toby go up to the nursery with his governess only a little while ago?
When Mr. Kendall seemed to be assured they were a safe distance away from whomever had attacked them, he slowed the pace, and then set Sam down on a wet stone bench.
“Here,” he said, his voice so gentle it made her want to cry. “Let me have a look at your head.”
Oh, heavens. All thoughts of the welts on her head faded away as he loomed over her on the bench, his jacket flapping open right in front of her face. His waistcoat was right there before her, dark and simple, and sitting just above his trousers. Oh, dear God. Sam swallowed down the ardor that had risen to her throat. If she wasn’t careful, she’d find her hand sneaking into places they ought not to be.
“Ow!” She winced as he pressed against one of the welts. That was enough to cool her off.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “We ought to get you back to the castle.” He reached for her hands and pulled her off the bench.
“But…” You didn’t finish kissing me! “Who on earth do you think would do such a thing to us?”
Mr. Kendall shook his head, his brow furrowed. “I don’t know—I truly can’t imagine. And yet…are you seeing a pattern?”
“A pattern?” Sam stared up at him, confused.
“Well, last night, when I was about to…”
He cleared his throat, and Sam couldn’t help but smile. “Kiss me?” she said, feeling somewhat brazen all of a sudden.
A grin came to his lips and his cheeks turned a bit pink. Could he really be so shy as all that? “Yes. When I was about to kiss you, there was that loud bang that stopped it. And just now, when I was about to—”
Sam was getting impatient. She didn’t want to talk about kissing anymore. She’d been waiting her whole life for someone to kiss her, and she was tired of waiting. So, instead of letting him finish his sentence, she bounced up to her tip-toes and planted a kiss squarely on his lips. It was quick, and not nearly satisfying enough, but she’d done it. And she was quite proud of herself.
That was, until she looked up to find Mr. Kendall quite wide-eyed at her boldness.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I just…”
But this time, he wasn’t going to let her finish. He reached around her waist and pulled her to him, pressing his lips and body to hers all at once, sending shockwaves of desire to her very core.
After far too short a time, he pulled back, and said, “There.”
Sam couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled to her throat, but it didn’t last long, for out of nowhere, another acorn smacked her on the cheek.
The pain was smarting—far worse than the ones on the back of her head—and tears pricked at the backs of her eyelids. But this time, Mr. Kendall paid her little mind. He was out for blood, now.
“Who’s there?” he called. “Come out, you coward! How dare you target a lady in such a way!”
While Sam wished she had not been targeted, she had to admit, she rather liked seeing Mr. Kendall all worked up. He was a quiet man, reserved, so it was a bit titillating to watch him assert himself in this way.
“Mr. Kendall,” she said quietly, and he whirled on her, his anger not yet subsided.
“You will call me Chad when we’re alone.”
Samantha swallowed. Chad. Goodness, things were getting intimate rather quickly, weren’t they? Was he going to want more soon? Was he going to want to speak to Father? Sam bit her bottom lip. Oh, how she wished a future with this man was possible.
“Chad,” she amended, putting her sad thoughts aside. “Perhaps it is not a person.”
His eyebrows lifted, his eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”
Now Sam felt silly. Blast her sister for going on and on about ghosts and such—she was starting to be a bad influence. “Oh, I know it’s ridiculous,” she said, attempting to save face, but really, it was too late. “I mean, the castle is haunted.”
“You think a ghost has followed us into the gardens to throw acorns at you for kissing me?”
Now she really felt silly. “Well there is a ghost that haunts the gardens, I believe.”
“Yes, but can ghosts really pick things up and throw them? Wouldn’t the acorn slip right through his fingers?”
“It could be a woman,” Sam bit back. “And besides, I’m not terribly versed in what ghosts can and cannot do, but do you see anyone else about? Have you seen any traces of human life, other than ourselves out here today? Why look,” she held her hands up and tipped her face to the sky, “did you even realize it was raining?”
Chad squinted against the mist. “I do believe it’s starting to pick up. I ought to see you back inside before you catch your death.”
Blast. The mood had changed, and it wasn’t for the better. Any thoughts of a kiss seemed to be long gone as Chad surveyed the area for their attacker. Well, her attacker. Why hadn’t the ghost thrown any acorns at him?
“Yes, Mother will be expecting to find me in my room. She insists on daily naps, and I can’t say I’m sad about it today. I do relish the idea of burrowing under the covers and shutting my eyes for an hour or two.”
“Is that so?” Chad asked as they began their walk back toward the castle. “I’ve never been much for sleeping in the day, myself. Of course, I don’t really care to stay out until all hours of the night, either, so there isn’t much reason for me—”
Thunder boomed overhead, cutting him off mid-sentence.
Chad reached out and pressed a hand to the small of her back, urging her to go faster toward the castle. If anyone saw them like this, they would certainly wonder at their relationship. If Mother saw them like this, Sam could look forward to a long lecture later.
As much as she loved the feel of him at her back. As much as she adored staring into those thoughtful, hazel eyes, Sam knew she must end the flirtation now. And so, she separated herself from him as they approached the steps up to the verandah, forcing him to drop his hand from her back. Oh, the emptiness she felt now that it was gone was more painful than she’d imagined it would be.
He gave her a sideways glance, clearly wondering if he should be put off by her gesture or if she was merely doing it for propriety’s sake, but Sam ignored him, tipping her chin up and climbing the stairs with a great deal of confidence that she didn’t quite feel just then.
As she gained the top step, she quickened her pace to the doors. Chad called to her several times, but she didn’t stop. If she was going to have to break this off before it even began, she didn’t want to look into his eyes. If she did, she would completely lose her resolve, and Lord only knew what havoc that would cause for her family.
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