Sam sighed. “We will tell them as much of the truth as we can, but I don’t want any details shared about Dolan’s mistress. I want to honor my promise as much as I can.”
He finished his drink and made his way to the door.
“Sam,” Jack called out.
Sam paused.
“What you did was very noble,” Jack said softly. “Clara is lucky to have you as a friend and her betrothed.”
Sam wasn’t so sure. He had saved her but ruined her in the process. The lady known as the epitome of high society was about to marry a boy from the filthy streets of Philadelphia. As much as he didn’t want it to matter, he knew it did.
~
The next morning Clara sat in the guest room that Mercy had deposited her in the night before. She had nothing, not even her own clothing. Earlier, a maid had helped her put on a colorful day dress covered in flower designs, which she imagined belonged to Mercy or one of the Kincaide sisters. All morning she heard hushed voices coming and going. She was too nervous and embarrassed to venture out. What if Sam woke and changed his mind? Was he at Peyton's house? What were the papers saying?
A quiet knock on the door disturbed her worrisome thoughts. She rose and opened the door. Sam stood there, and her stomach did flip-flops. He looked exhausted and his blond hair flopped over his forehead. She had an unexpected urge to brush the hair aside, but she gripped the sides of her dress to stop herself.
“May I come in?” he asked.
Her eyes rounded in shock. He most certainly couldn’t come in. She pinched her lips together at the suggestion. A lady didn’t allow gentlemen into her sleeping quarters. He smiled at her, reading her thoughts so effortlessly.
“Clara, you are ruined. Allowing me in won’t change anything.”
She frowned at him, knowing he was right. She stood back, and he entered, shutting the door behind him.
They stood in the center of the room, quietly studying each other. This man would be her husband. She was filled with both trepidation and even though she didn’t want to admit it, delight.
Finally, he said, “I came to apologize for ruining you last night. It wasn’t my intention to cause such a scene.”
Ruin her? She was grateful to him. “Sam, you saved me. You have nothing to apologize for. You were right. Dolan is not who he portrays himself to be. The few moments we had alone showed me that.”
“Did he hurt you?” he asked.
He hadn’t, but Clara had seen it in his eyes that he would. She shivered, remembering Dolan’s assertion that she would eventually bend to his will. Even if she were ruined forever, she would always be grateful to her friend Sam Kincaide.
“Clara. Did he?” Sam asked again.
“No, it was what he insinuated,” she said.
Sam’s hazel eyes sparked with barely contained fury, and his large body tensed at her words.
“How did you know I shouldn’t marry him?” Clara asked, her mind flashing back to their private discussion before everything happened with Dolan.
Sam frowned and said, “Without going into too much detail, I have some acquaintances who informed me he was dangerous.”
He had bound himself to her to save her. Clara was grateful, but she also felt guilty. “I am sorry. I have completely changed your life.”
He flopped down in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace and Clara took a seat in the other one. “That is what I have come to talk about, our marriage. I want you to know I don’t expect anything from you. I personally never planned to marry and thinking it through last night, maybe this is for the best. We could have a marriage of convenience. When we first met you talked about having freedom. I can’t give you a title, but I can give you that.”
She was shocked and unsure what to say. The absence of marrying into a title hadn’t even crossed her mind, strangely enough. Did he think that mattered or was he looking for a way to still live his life as he pleased? A marriage of convenience would allow that. A bud of disappointment blossomed in her chest that their marriage would be in name only. What did she expect? He had saved her, but he was still the playboy of the ton.
They were nothing more than friends, Clara told herself. But the kiss flashed in her mind, and she felt herself flush at her own wanton thoughts of Sam. She wondered if he ever thought about that night in Lord Adderly’s cardroom? Clara pushed the thought from her mind. Of course, he didn’t. Sam likely kissed a plethora of ladies and made them feel the same way. He was right. A marriage of convenience was for the best.
She pushed back her shoulders and said, “You’re right. I think it would benefit us both. We can do as we please. Freedom is something I want.”
~
Sam made his way down a pathway in the Den’s gardens. Lila had sent word she needed to speak with him immediately. As he walked, he anxiously went through the list in his head that still needed to be accomplished before his wedding to Clara. At least he was able to secure the special license. He knocked on the door of a cottage that resembled a Grecian temple. Lila answered the door and stood back to let him in. He caught sight of Abigail resting and didn’t wince for the first time since meeting her. The bruising around her face and neck had started to fade away. She was so damn young was all Sam could think.
