The laughter died on Lady Hawley’s lips. Everyone in their group stared at Clara in shock. Sam recovered and frowned at her in disappointment. She felt a twinge of something but pushed it away. Good, Clara thought. Sam shouldn’t have any misconceptions about who she was.
Unable to stop herself, Clara said to Lady Hawley. “Did no one ever teach you how to request someone’s attention?”
Lady Hawley flushed and stared at the floor, unwilling to meet anyone’s gaze. Sam frowned more deeply at Clara. He tore his gaze away from her and held his arm out to Lady Hawley, smiling warmly at her. “My lady, I adore your exuberance. I would love to have this dance with you.”
Lady Hawley lifted her eyes, and they were pooled with tears. Guilt and embarrassment nibbled at Clara; her sharp words had caused distress. What was she thinking? Had she taken leave of her senses? Sam and Lady Hawley left them standing there without looking back.
~
Sam paced inside the small cardroom, wondering if Clara was going to meet with him tonight. She had truly played the part of the haughty ice princess with Lady Hawley. He didn’t like it. Tonight, she lived up to the nickname she hated. The door opened and Sam turned to see Clara with her blonde hair spilling across her shoulders. She was captivating. Captivating? Why was he thinking of her that way? Her eyes sparked at him.
“I wasn’t sure you would show,” she said snottily.
Captivating and angry. Sam tilted his head and stayed silent. He raised his glass to his lips and her eyes sparked even more.
“I wasn’t sure if you decided to spend the evening with Lady Hawley,” she said with disdain.
Lady Clara was jealous. Was that why she had been so cruel earlier? He couldn’t believe it. He chuckled, and she scowled even more deeply.
He took another sip. “I thought about it.”
She spun around and with lightning speed, headed for the door. Sam reached it first, placing his large frame in her path. “I’m joking, Clara.”
“Do you think I really care if you would rather spend time with Lady Hawley? That any of this matters that much to me?”
Sam winced. Her tongue was so sharp when she was angry. It shouldn’t surprise him; one didn’t get her reputation without cause. “What is this haughtiness about? I don’t like it. You almost made Lady Hawley cry in front of everyone in the ballroom. Are you jealous that I was spending time with her?”
Her lips pressed together as if she would explode. She straightened her spine and formed her facial expression into a more demure look. “Mr. Kincaide, I don’t concern myself with your amorous affairs.”
He slammed his glass down on the table, annoyed with her formal tone. “Don’t do that with me, Clara. Don’t freeze me out. We’re friends.”
“Ha! We barely know each other. You think in a few days, with your winks and smiles, we have become mates. You wink and smile at everyone. I’m not foolish enough to think it is anything special.”
He looked back at her, annoyed. She glared back, angry.
“It’s all superficial and insincere,” Clara pointed out.
He was quiet for a minute and leaned against the edge of the table. “You’re right.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. He took another sip of his drink and said, “You are. I try my best to be charming to everyone. Still, I very much don’t consider our new friendship superficial. Far from it.”
The air crackled with an intensity that disconcerted Sam. “Shall we play?” he asked.
Clara nodded and Sam poured her a drink before placing the same leather box from the night before in front of her. She opened the box but then turned back to him. “I know I was dreadful to Lady Hawley, and it wasn’t appropriate at all. I want you to know I plan to make amends.”
“Just tell her you are madly in love with me and had a fit of jealousy,” he said, winking.
Clara rolled her eyes and dumped the pieces out. She took a seat and started creating piles of similar colors. Sam followed her slender fingers as she quickly separated them. “Are you going to help?” she asked, not looking up.
He chuckled and sat down next to her. They sat shoulder to shoulder, quietly sorting. “So, if not jealousy, why were you harsh with Lady Hawley?”
Clara's fingers froze, and she looked at him. “I’m not sure. She annoys me for some reason, and I know this will wound your ego, but she did even before I knew you.”
He chuckled. “I think you don’t like the fact that she has decided to do as she pleases and have fun. I think you wish you could do that. That is what you are jealous about.”
Clara was quiet for a moment as she flipped dissection pieces. “It’s a map,” she said, changing the subject.
He nodded. “It’s Philadelphia. The city I was born in.”
