Indulgence 2: One Glimpse (35 page)

“I don’t care.” Sam shook his head, but she kept going. “I would rather live in the country and see no one than be his wife. Please. He told me when he was bringing me back that he did all of this to trap you into giving him my dowry. I think…I think he means to not marry me if you refuse the money. I can’t belong to someone like that!”

Her throat closed, and the sobs took over. A moment later she felt Sam’s arms come around her, and she scrambled for his love like clutching roots at the edge of a cliff. “Please don’t hate me, Sam. I’m sorry. I just w-wanted to think someone liked me. I wanted someone to want me. I’m sorry.”

“Shh.” He breathed against her hair. “I know, little sis. I know.”

“I can’t do it.”

“You don’t have to. We won’t. Don’t cry. I need you to look at me. I want you to go upstairs and get into bed. I’ll send one of the maids to see to you for tonight, and then tomorrow I’ll speak with Kat and see what needs to be done.” There was no more anger in his voice, and it only made her feel more wretched for what she had done.

“All right,” she choked out.

“Good. I’ll have to write a note to send over to Kat tonight so she knows you’re here and safe, but we’re not going to deal with anything else until tomorrow. Sleep late. You need it.”

She nodded. It was too good to be true, but had that not always been her brother? In any other house, she would be black-and-blue from the end of a cane already. She hugged him again, pressing her face into his shirt, which was oddly wrinkled and musky smelling, then stepped back.

Sam followed her out to the hall and exchanged words with the butler. A few moment later a maid joined her at the foot of the stairs. Flor hoped she would sleep. She wanted a deep, dreamless sleep to wipe away the worst day of her life, but she had a sick feeling that worse was yet to come.

Chapter Eighteen

The Lesser Evil

Sam sent a note to Kat telling her to stop all her preparations and wait for him to explain things tomorrow. He knew she would be desperate to find some solution to their family problem, but there was none. Flor refused to marry Evers, and the Thames would boil before Sam forced her into such a union. Aunt Margaret could object all she liked, but Flor was the youngest and his other sisters were already wed and secure in their own social circles. Flor’s disgrace would harm no one but herself, and Sam to a much limited extent. He did not care. Let the cats of the ton chastise him if they liked.

He sent a note to John as well, telling him in the most innocent language not to worry and that he hoped to see him at White’s in the morning for an early breakfast. It was not safe to write anything revealing ever, regardless of how trustworthy the servant was, but he wanted to tell John what had happened as soon as he was able. Plus, a spiteful part of him hoped Evers would call on him in the early morning and be forced to wait until Sam returned from the club.

Sam did not bother sleeping, as it had already been half past four when he arrived home and found Flor there. He also wrote letters to his secretary and solicitor with inquiries about his country estates and the legal documents regarding Flor’s dowry. More arrangements would have to be made if his sister was to be expelled from society.

He broke several pens in his rage but managed to finish the work.

When he headed out to White’s in the glaring morning light, it was with the fidgety light-headedness of the sleep deprived. He saw John as he approached the club, coming from the other direction. His camel greatcoat billowed behind him as he raised a hand to hold his top hat firm in the wind. He was the type of man who turned heads no matter where he went, and despite the hell that was his day, Sam smiled.

“Thank you, I needed that,” Sam said when John stopped in front of him.

“What did you need?” John said, looking amused.

“You. To see you.” Only after he spoke did Sam realize how intense the words sounded. No. How loving they sounded. He watched John’s face but saw nothing disapproving. In fact, he beamed.

“Your flattery won’t distract me from prying in your business,” John teased, then turned serious. “Really, how bad is it?”

“Bad. I’ll share the details, but suffice it to say my sister is ruined. You will likely never see her again, nor will anyone else.”

The sincere pain on John’s face twisted Sam’s heart. “Sam, I’m so sorry. Are you…” He seemed to hedge his words. “Are you very angry with her?”

Was he? Sam knew he should be furious with her. He had thought her too intelligent to fall prey to a needy heart and lovesick games, but his own hypocrisy in that judgment glared at him. When Flor had made her sobbing admission that she had just wanted someone to want her, his heart had nearly broken, for he knew that feeling all too well.

“No.” Sam shook his head. “I can’t be. Evers did everything he could to make her believe he loved her. Her only crime was being too good to see through it.” A flash of anger made him clench his fists. “I should call that bastard out for this.”

“What? No!” John growled, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder. The action startled him but also gave him a shock of delight.

“Don’t worry. It isn’t going to come to that. And after Evers learns the results of his scheme today, there won’t be any threat of a duel either.”

“What do you mean?”

Sam smirked. “I will tell you inside. I shouldn’t be pleased, not about anything today, but I will be pleased after I meet with him.”

John nodded and gave Sam a knowing smile before they went inside to take breakfast. It was clear when they arrived that news had traveled, for they dined under the scrutinizing gaze of others, a few even being so bold as to raise their quizzing glasses in Sam’s direction. Sam ignored them and told John in whispered words everything that had happened last night. It was comforting to see John’s sympathetic anger as he told him what Evers had done. Aside from a wonderful lover, it felt good to have a loyal friend and ally.

As they were leaving, for Sam expected Evers to show himself early at the house, Sam spotted Sills just crossing the entrance hall. There was nothing remarkable about it until Sills spotted them and jerked to a stop. His eyes went wide, and he looked at John and Sam with an expression Sam could not decipher. Loathing? Fear?

John seemed to have noticed it too. He took a step toward his friend. “Morning, Michael. Are you feeling well? You don’t look—”

Sills turned on his heel and practically ran back to the entrance hall. Sam stood frozen, watching John trapped in a similar pose. Sam could hear Sills’s curt demands for his coat and hat, then the sound of the front door. A moment ticked by, and Sam took stock of the room to make certain no one had witnessed the exchange. Then he placed a hand on John’s shoulder.

“What the devil was that?” John’s shoulders dropped. “He
cut
me.”

Cold crept over Sam’s skin. Sills had cut him, but it was more than that. Something… Sam shook the idea away. Sills was just being petty because John had befriended Sam. That was all.

“I did see him at the Feathertons’ ball when I stepped out for some air. He was past foxed and behaving strangely,” Sam offered, though it hardly explained what had just happened.

“Whatever quarrel he thinks he has with me is none of my concern.” John snorted, but his hurt was plain. “And I will not have it be distracting. If something should go wrong in meeting Evers today, do not hesitate to call upon me, Sam. I will be there for you.”

I love you so much.
Sam swallowed over the telltale ache forming behind his eyes. Not here, not in public. He nodded, and John took the hint. They collected their things and parted ways on the sidewalk. As Sam started the walk home, an odd feeling had him looking in the alleys and doorways around him, like he was being watched.

* * * *

“Mr. Evers, sir.”

Sam almost smiled at the sour look on his butler’s face. A moment later, Evers strolled into the room and any amusement Sam felt vanished. The man was dressed impeccably in a powder-blue coat and dove-gray trousers, with his handsome features made ugly by a satisfied grin. There was something shaky about his manner, though, as if he labored to keep up a front.

As soon as the butler left and the door closed, Evers crossed the room. “I suppose I don’t need to say why I’m here. It goes without saying I am willing to do the right thing and see that all is set proper and right with Flor, once we have made clear the, eh…” He looked into the empty fireplace. “The arrangements.”

“Proper and right.” Sam snorted. “How, precisely, do you think to accomplish that?”

Evers faced him and lifted his chin, pulling at his collar. “I recognize that there will be some gossip. It will take some time for the ton to, eh, forgive and forget the impropriety of a special license wedding, but they will eventually. It’s happened before.”

Bloody fool.
Sam glared. “What wedding are you referring to?”

Evers frowned at him, confused. “Flor and I, of course. The sooner we’re married, the better. I would not recommend wasting a month for the banns to be read, since no one—”

“No, no banns will be read,” Sam assured him, his voice hardening. “And there will be no special license either.”

“What?”

“There will be no wedding, special or otherwise. And I will not hear you refer to my sister by her given name again.” Rage and satisfaction battled within Sam as he watched the effects of his words etch across Evers’s face, from confusion to shock to rage.

“You can’t! Are you out of your mind?” Evers cried, moving toward him.

A flicker of fear shook Sam, for Evers had several inches on him and was no weakling. He stood resolute. “Not at all. I refused permission from your suit before you ruined my sister, and I am refusing it again.”

Evers took a stumbling step back, his jaw hanging open. “I can’t believe you would do this. It’s…it’s not as if I would treat her poorly. I would not deny her anything or be cruel. She would have her place and social position. She wou— You would let your own sister flounder in ruin for the rest of her life rather than let me win?”

With Evers’s words, the last pillar of the facade came crashing down. Sam moved toward him, catching himself halfway with his fists clenched.

“Win, is it? At least you are no longer mincing words. And don’t think to turn this on me. I was prepared to secure a special license today, but Flor refused.
Flor
has refused
you
!” When Evers made no reply, only staring in raging shock, Sam continued. “She would rather live the rest of her life outside society than be your wife. It would seem my little sister knows the lesser of two evils when she sees it.”

“But what about your family honor?” Evers demanded. “What about your own? You will never be able to hold your head up again after this, not unless you plan to call me out!”

It was clear from Evers’s tone that he expected Sam to do no such thing, but Sam could deny him that route of coercion too. “You’re mistaken. If you were refusing to marry Flor and leave her to ruin, I would have cause to call you out. But Flor has refused you. I have no standing to demand satisfaction, so dawn appointments are moot and so is your last attempt to push me.”

He turned away, unable to look at Evers a moment longer and because the satisfaction was not nearly as sweet as he had expected. When he reached his desk, still littered with the documents his solicitor had rushed over, he braced his arms on the edge. He had had time to think about everything, and it was all so clear.

“I have nothing more to say to you other than this. You are a damned fool. You didn’t take Flor to Scotland because you believed I would let my sister go into an empty marriage with no money. You believed that about me, you bloody idiot.” At the sound of Evers’s angry snarl, Sam turned. He could taste the sweet victory. “I never would have left my sister penniless. Never. If you had just kept going, if you had really called my bluff and married her at Gretna, you would have gotten the dowry, my public approval, everything. How lucky for my sister that your opinion of me is so low; otherwise she might not have seen you for what you are until she already had your name.”

Sam waited in the following silence for Evers to lash out, to declare good riddance to him and his inferior family, but there was nothing. Evers’s gaze fell to the carpet in that lost look Sam remembered from their meeting at the ball. It looked nothing like anger and much more like panic.

Finally, Evers said, in a strangled tone, “I…I have to talk to her. I admit, my behavior was wrong about the dowry, but you were being unreasonable because you dislike me. I-if I could just speak to her, let her know that our marriage would be friendly—”

“Are you mad?” Sam gawked at him. Surely he could not be that delusional. Before Evers could stammer another sentence, Sam pointed at the door. “Get out. Now.”

Once again, Sam’s expectations were not realized. Rather than storm out, staring daggers and shouting his outrage, Evers simply walked away. His face was blank and pale, and he moved like a marionette. When he closed the door, he did it softly and without looking behind him. Sam stared at the closed door until exhaustion overcame him and he dropped into a chair near the hearth. A voice in the back of his head warned that something was wrong, something about Evers had simply not been right from start to finish, but he refused to hear it. Not this time. This time, he would see the villain for what he was and not allow fancies of misunderstandings to sway him.

Evers was nothing more than a greedy, lazy blackguard, and good riddance to him.

* * * *

John made sure to let his household know where he would be throughout the day and left explicit instructions that a servant was to find him if any messages arrived from Sir Samuel. He had considered staying at home but decided he could serve Sam better by seeing what gossip had made the rounds about Miss Shaw. It was not good. When a bad story was told by multiple people with almost perfect consistency, its veracity became unquestionable.

And it was the truth anyway, a rarity in itself.