He chuckled. “I find piecing a picture together relaxing. I can assure you though this specific puzzle has over 100 pieces and is designed specifically for adults.”
He started to spread the pieces out across the table in excitement, quickly flipping pieces over and grouping them by color. Clara realized he wasn’t jesting with her. He was genuinely excited. She smiled at him, amused. “If I were not sitting here, I don’t think I could have ever fathomed you doing this. Do any of your ladies know about your love of dissections?”
His light hazel eyes darted up to hers. “Now that wouldn’t be any good, would it? All of my ladies, as you call them, would judge me as you are judging me. I am letting you in on my deep dark secret because you are my mate.”
She warmed at his words. They smiled at each other before he winked at her and said, “Get sorting, or we won’t finish it.”
She frowned at the pieces, building her own pile of blues. “What is the picture?”
“That would be too easy if we knew what it was. My sister-in-law had this puzzle crafted for me so it could be anything. Perhaps flowers? She’s crazy about them.”
Maybe her group of pieces was the sky? She frowned, wishing they knew what the dissection was supposed to be. They could come up with a plan.
“Don’t overthink it,” he said, not looking up from his pieces.
He connected two pieces and glanced at her with pure triumph, causing Clara to giggle. He lifted a brow in her direction. “I’m sorry,” she said, barely holding back her amusement.
“I could pack it up and do this in my room,” Sam said, mockingly offended.
She looked at him solemnly. “No, I am honored I get to do this with you.”
They smiled at each other, and Clara felt the connection between them, their friendship. They both went back to their pieces quietly working. Sam wasn’t what she expected. Yes, he was very much a scoundrel, but he was also one of the kindest men she had met. Why was he so kind? She placed another piece together as she thought about it. She wondered how he came to be the Duke of Peyton’s adoptive brother. She raised her head to see that Sam had stopped working on the dissection and was sitting back watching her with a contemplative expression.
He smiled at her amused. “You are slacking. I already have two sections of connected pieces. Any thoughts on what it is?”
She shook her head, still unsure. She sat up and stretched. He smiled broadly, “I like you relaxed and less Ice—”
She threw a dissection piece at him, and he quickly said, “Stuffy.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “I’m proper as any lady should be, not stuffy.”
He sipped his brandy. “Tell me something about yourself. Something that you enjoy, not what your lady acquaintances think you should.”
What should she tell him?
“I hardly think anything I tell you would be that fascinating.”
He smiled. “It doesn’t have to be fascinating, just something you enjoy.”
She pursed her lips, contemplating what she could share with him that didn’t make her life seem staid and monotonous. “Riding is a passion of mine. My sister and I normally meet in the early morning a few times a week to ride.”
Sam leaned forward and placed his arms on the table, causing his large biceps to flex. Clara’s stomach fluttered, disconcerting her. He nodded and said, “That’s right. I completely forgot you were the one who revealed to the papers that Mercy and my brother were meeting in Hyde Park.”
Clara blushed, wishing she hadn’t brought up riding. “My mother leaked the information to the papers, not me but yes I was the one who told her the Duke of Peyton and his wife were meeting secretly before they were married. The fault ultimately lies with me.”
“Why did you tell her?”
What could Clara say? She so desperately wanted to connect with her mother in some way that she hoped the tidbit of information would win approval in her eyes. She had no other reason but her own desperation to feel loved.
“Clara?”
She raised her head haughtily, falling back on her defense mechanisms, unwilling to share something so personal. “Because I am not a nice person. Simple as that.”
He frowned at her and leaned over the table, taking one of her hands in his. Her pulse quickened as he stroked her palm with his thumb.
“I’m not sure I believe it is so simple.”
She wrapped her fingers around his thumb and clung to it, realizing how much his opinion of her mattered. They sat quietly staring at one another. She let go of his thumb, embarrassed that she was hanging onto it so tightly. Sam gently pulled his hand back and ran both his hands through his hair. He smiled at her. “So, riding. What is it about riding you love so much?”
