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Saving Samantha

Page 9

by S Cinders

He growled as he folded his wife into his arms, “You are entirely way too often. Have I been a bear?”

  “Oh, yes!” Hazel’s eyes danced, “Quite impossible to live with. I don’t know how I put up with you.”

  Benjamin smiled against her neck, “And yet you still managed?”

  “Barely,” she teased. “Now don’t muss my hair, we need to get down into the gardens. It was so kind of the Duke to allow her to hold the wedding here.”

  Benjamin scowled as he straightened his pants, “It has to be here. You allowed that man to go into her room and they didn’t come out for more than twenty-four hours . We are lucky that Sophie’s uncle, the archbishop, consented to the special license.”

  Giggled erupted from her, “How much did it cost you?”

  “Much more than I wanted to spend,” he grabbed her hand, “C ome along my little matchmaker. Let’s see Sam happy.”

  ***

  Lord Shore walked his sister Samantha up the aisle. Her dress was a cream chiffon ball gown because there wasn’t time for a traditional gown to be made. However, there was no disappointment in Henry’s eyes when he locked eyes on the woman he loved.

  Her hair had been left loose, with flowers braided throughout it. In her arms, she held wildflowers, the colors a stark relief against the cream of her dress. She looked like a woodland fairy.

  The ocean air added a sense of serenity to the scene and while there wasn’t a grand crowd to celebrate their nuptials. They were surrounded by their friends.

  Henry stood tall, and his voice rang out clear and strong as he repeated his vows. Samantha’s color was high as a few tears slipped down her cheeks.

  “What is wrong?” he whispered, truly scared that she might be changing her mind.

  “Nothing, I am just happy,” she replied taking his hand in her own.

  Samantha turned and said her vows, and then the priest with his blessing announced them, man and wife.

  Henry scooped her up into his arms before anyone else could speak to them. And then he dipped his head and kissed her like a man who loves his wife.

  “A bit excessive,” Benjamin tried to say, but Hazel elbowed him hard in the ribs.

  And then to his dismay, Henry walked away with his bride in tow, “We must be off, but our love to each of you!”

  Samantha’s merriment could be seen for miles around as she waved happily to the guests.

  Henry carried her all the way to the carriage that he had put to before the ceremony. Lifting her up, he quickly followed her into the coach.

  Ian tried to pay attention to the bride and groom’s antics, but Vivian had chosen to wear a pale pink. The color was perfect with her blonde hair, and he couldn’t take his eyes from her.

  She caught him looking several times, but Ian didn’t care. The first time he had smiled. Friends smile at one another, that seemed safe.

  But when he kept staring, Vivian’s face flushed. She wasn’t sure if there was something on her face or if the man was just ill-mannered. But after the fourth or fifth time, she caught him her temper began to burn.

  How dare he humiliate her like that?

  Even if there was something on her face, surely he could ignore it.

  The more Vivian’s ire grew, the more Ian seemed intrigued with her. She had quite enough of this rugged American, and at the first opportunity, Vivian was going to give him a piece of her mind.

  She hadn’t even been facing the departing carriage when the bouquet of flowers smacked her in the back of the head.

  Ian couldn’t contain his laughter. She had looked so incredibly surprised.

  Vivian grabbed the flowers and launched them at Ian. It was an auspicious beginning, undoubtedly.

  But they were not the only couple that was not in harmony that day.

  “Freddy, please don’t remain angry with me,” Lucy’s small hand slipped into his large one.

  Freddy’s chin warbled, “Nonsense, I’ve forgiven you, my love.”

  But Lucy knew better. Freddy hadn’t been the same since that night she had slipped to her knees and taken him into her mouth.

  She wondered if he had taken a disgust of her. Despite Hazel’s teasing, Lucy hadn’t tried something like this before with Freddy, and she worried that she had ruined things with her sweet husband.

  “You won’t even look at me,” Lucy’s voice was very small. Freddy turned to see his beautiful wife looking askance.

  He felt embarrassed but didn’t know how to address that with her. Had she only pleasured him with her mouth so that she could help her friends? He wasn’t angry; he was only confused. Where had she learned such things?

  Freddy tipped her chin, “Lucy, it is not what you think.”

  “I think that you are sorry you are married to such a naughty woman.”

  He saw that tears had begun to cloud her eyes.

  “No, Lucy-love that is not it,” Freddy sighed, “I am a trifle uncertain is all. Did you feel that you had to do that?”

  Lucy had a wrinkle between her brows, “No, I wanted to.”

  Freddy felt a surge of lust for his naughty wife, “Where did you? I mean, who told you?”

  Comprehension dawned on Lucy. Her cheeks heated, “There was a book, that one of the girls had. Some of the other wives spoke of pleasuring their husbands that way. I did use you that night, Freddy, to get the girl’s out of their rooms and I am sorry. But you might find me a wanton woman, but I liked doing that. And I might wish to do it again.”

  He clutched her to his large chest, which was difficult considering his girth. “Were there other things in this book that interested you?”

  Lucy saw the interest in his eyes and smiled, “Many.”

  Freddy turned and immediately started dragging her away from the party.

  “Freddy, we can’t leave now!” Lucy cried out laughing.

  “We can, and we will,” he said not slowing.

  “What about Vivian?” She asked.

  Freddy grinned, “She is a smart girl, she will be alright. I, on the other hand, need to take my naughty wife in hand.”

  Lucy giggled and ran along beside him until they locked their bedroom and remembered why they had fallen in love in the first place.

  EPILOGUE

  “Albert Harris, you had better have an excellent reason for having rouge on your cravat young man, and do not give me any flummery about it being Aunt Hazel’s!”

  Albert eyed his mother with a gleam of mischief in his eye. The boy was only ten and five and already was causing a riot among the maids .

  Henry, Samantha’s husband, had laughed when she had taken the offending article to him, “Darling, boys will be boys. I will talk with him.”

  Samantha knew what that entailed, a round of drinks at the pub.

  “Mother,” Albert smile was just as deadly as his father’s. “I would never lie to the only woman that I have actually ever loved in this life.”

  She rolled her eyes, “Are you pretending to speak about me? Because I have known you for far too long, you would lie in a trice to get out of trouble. And didn’t you tell me just last quarter that you were desperately in love with that Opera singer?”

  Albert tisked, “Actress mother, and she was nothing but a trifle. She could never supplant you in my heart.”

  Samantha clutched the stained cravat, “Who is the girl?”

  “You won’t be happy about it,” he grinned. “I feel that it is best I keep it to myself.”

  Color leached from her face, “Is it someone completely ineligible? You are just a child, why must you chase after the fairer sex?”

  “I cannot see father being happy if I chased after my own,” Albert reasoned wickedly.

  “Rotten child, just tell me, who does the rouge belong to?” Samantha was ready to pull her hair out.

  Albert came to take the offending article out of her hand and kissed her brow, “If you insist. I ran into Grandmother at Uncle Benjamin’s and Aunt Hazel’s. She has come for the little season.”


  Samantha almost wished that it had been a woman, “Grandmother is here—in London?”

  Albert laughed as he walked away, “She also asked if you ever started that reducing diet. Apparently Uncle Freddy is looking trim and dapper.”

  Samantha growled in outrage just as Henry came walking into the room.

  “Been speaking with the offspring, my darling?” he asked pleasantly.

  “My mother is in town,” Samantha bit off.

  Henry made a face, “Is it too late to make a run for the Continent?”

  She laughed, “I only wish. She also made a crack about me needing to go on a reducing diet.”

  Henry’s eyes narrowed. Certainly, his wife was more well rounded than she had been when they first wed. She had delivered two sons, and they had both aged. But where he had gray at his temples, Samantha only looked lovelier than ever.

  Her hips might be a smidge fuller and her breasts a mite larger, but that was nothing that Henry wanted to change.

  “Do not change a hair on your head,” he demanded gruffly, “You are perfect just as you are.”

  Samantha looked up at him uncertainty, “Perhaps she is right, I am not the same girl you married sixteen years ago.”

  He grinned wickedly, “No, you are not.”

  Samantha’s eyes widened in outrage.

  “You are far more beautiful a woman than you were then. I fall more in love with you every day.”

  “Oh, Henry,” Samantha sank against him as his arms wrapped around her.

  “Do you not believe me? I shall have to prove it to you,” without so much as another word he swept her off her feet.

  “Henry! I am much too heavy for you to carry!” Samantha squealed in delight as he began to climb the stairs.

  Albert was coming down and quickly averted his eyes. He knew well enough not to get involved when his parents were having their ‘alone’ time.

  Samantha saw him, “I am still angry with you, Albert. We shall discuss this later!”

  And she caught a glimpse of a smile as he waved his arm to them, “Sounds delightful!”

  “Check in with Rigal, I want to know where you are going!” her voice falling on deaf ears.

  Henry chuckled as he carried her into their bedroom, “Why won’t you let the boy be? You know that the old pirate will only act as a co conspirator to anything that Albert dreams up. And I must say, darling, that it is entirely your fault for insisting that we keep Rigal on as our butler.”

  Samantha pushed against his chest so that she could see his face, “Henry, I have no wish to discuss Rigal. It is Albert with whom I am concerned. He is doing all sorts of naughty things with who knows what type of women. He is a child!”

  “Let him be,” Henry encouraged and dropped her on the bed in a flurry of petticoats.

  “What if he gets himself in trouble?” Samantha voiced her greatest fear.

  “Darling, you have raised a fine son. He might be a charming devil and having his fun in the petticoat line, but he is a good young man. Let him spread his wings. He might make a mess of things, but he is fortunate because you will always be there to pick up the pieces.”

  Samantha clutched his face and kissed him with all of her heart. Henry always knew how to calm her.

  Soon they were skin to skin, his lips gliding across her body as she cried out in pleasure. They had been together for many years, but somehow this was always perfect.

  He pulled her up on her knees stroking between her thighs. She was so wet, always so very wet for him.

  He slammed his cock to the hilt and Samantha moaned low and loud.

  The sounds she made had goosebumps erupting on his skin.

  “Harder,” she cried out, pressing her backside against him.

  Grabbing her hips in a punishing clasp he rammed into her, reveling in the feel of her skin and the sounds that their bodies made as they crashed together.

  Soon he could feel his orgasm coming, so he reached around and started rubbing circles on her clit.

  It only took a moment before she was clamping down, her own release causing him to spurt deep inside of her over and over again.

  He grabbed a cloth to wipe himself and between her legs and then gathered her to him.

  “I will speak to him if you want me to.”

  Samantha sighed, she was boneless, completely content, and knew that he had been right. But what mattered the most was that he was willing to do whatever she thought best. He had that much faith in her.

  She turned so that they were face to face and she studied his eyes, “I love you, Henry Harris.”

  He quirked a brow, “And I love you, Samantha Harris. Are you quite alright?”

  “As long as I am with you—all the world is right.”

  Dedication- I want to thank my Beta Readers who have been absolute angels and suffer through my terrible grammar with kindness and love. A huge thank you to FallenAngel, Lidia Ana, Clarissa Woodcock & E.L. Hatch, you have my heart.

  And to my husband who has loved me through thick and thin, here is to another twenty-two years. May we not kill each other, and may there always be laughter.

  Please continue reading for an excerpt from When in Bath which is available of Radish right now.

  https://radish.app.link/jLAiOJNOfG

  WHEN IN BATH

  By, S. Cinders

  All rights and privileges reserved.

  S. Cinders 2017

  Summary

  The Ridenhour twins have once again found themselves sent down from Eton and in the care of their guardian, the Earl of Ravenstock. But rather than let the boys kick their heels back and enjoy the fruits of the season, Ravenstock briskly packs them up and takes them for an extended visit to his Godmama in Bath.

  The twins, far from being perturbed at their Uncle Jasper, are soon up to their usual hijinks as only boys of sixteen are prone to find.

  On their first day in town, they run over a lovely creature named, Miss Lydia Pritchard. Who not only shares their love of the ridiculous but who also happens to be Lady Avery’s trusted companion.

  Isn’t it just the most delightful of circumstances that, Lady Avery also happens to be Uncle Jasper’s Godmama?

  Things in Bath seem to be heating up, for all is not as it appears. And trust that our hero will not leave a stone unturned until the mystery surrounding his Godmoma's unusual companion is resolved.

  Let’s hope that dear Ravenstock can hold onto his wits in the process.

  “Monseigneur, I have killed you! You are dead! You are dead!"

  You display an unseemly joy," he remarked. "I had no notion you were so bloodthirsty.”

  ― Georgette Heyer , These Old Shades

  CHAPTER 1

  Miss Lydia Pritchard was late. This in and of itself was not an unusual occurrence, but it would seem to her that it had been the root cause of the majority of the tangles in her young life and she didn’t want to give Lady Avery any further reason to scold.

  Not waiting for her maid, who was a trifle vexed with Lydia for rushing about at such a pa ce, she quickly glanced to and fro before darting out into the busy street. Lydia was determined to return to Lady Avery’s side post haste and with time to spare.

  A rare smile peeked out upon her face. The older woman would be quite surprised to see her operating in a timely fashion—for once.

  During the fashionable hour, anyone of quality who wanted to see or be seen would find themselves trudging up the hill to the pump rooms to take the restorative waters that Bath was so famed for.

  Just as Lydia began to cross, a high-perched curricle came round the corner at breakneck speed. Even for the highest whipster to have avoided her would have been nigh on impossible. She wasn’t sure if it was fate or simply her propensity to find these rather remarkable situations.

  For one moment she was striding at a fairly fast clip and the next she was being thrown to the ground. Luckily the coach did not hit her, for that could have been fatal. But as it was, Lydia had quite
had the stuffing taken out of her.

  She refused to pass out and as the blackness tried to descend she fought it heartily. If there was anything to be said about Miss Lydia Pritchard, it would not be that she put on missish airs. However, the lack of air in her lungs was a trifle disconcerting.

  Suddenly there was a young man’s face in front of her own. His pallor entirely white, “Dear heaven above, I have killed her. Tom! Get over here!”

  The anguish was so raw that Lydia wanted at once to assure him that she would indeed recover—when the world stopped spinning of course.

  She opened her mouth to speak when another young man who was the exact replica of the first down to the shock of black hair and dark gray eyes, came into view.

  He frowned a little, “Oh, Kit, she is not dead, you ninnyhammer, only knocked up. Give her a moment to collect herself. Uncle Jasper is going to lock you in the sellers when he hears about this one, Twin.”

  If at all possible the one called Kit, paled further. “We don’t have to tell him, Tom.”

  Tom shook his head, “It won’t work, Kit. Half the city will know about it in less than half an hour. Did you have to run her down right in front of the pump rooms?”

  Lydia raised a brow, “Indeed, couldn’t you have found a better location for my demise?”

  The twins swung their gazes back to her.

  “I had indeed forgotten about you,” Kit exclaimed and then scowled when his brother cuffed him on the back of the head.

  “I am terribly sorry for my brother’s lack of manners, ma'am, and his deplorable driving skills. How terrible to be knocked off your feet. Are you feeling just wretched? Please allow me to help you, my name is Mr. Thomas Ridenhour, and this is my brother Christopher Ridenhour.”

  Lydia allowed the young man to help her stand. Besides a rather incessant ache in her hip and side, she did not feel that she would have lasting damage from the altercation.

 

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