The next morning, Clara stood in the drawing room staring out the window, holding the scandal sheets at her side. Her eyes were watery. She took a deep breath. She wanted to believe better of Sam, that all of it was a simple misunderstanding but why wasn’t he willing to absolve her parents’ debt. Was it because there was some truth to what her mother said? She bit her lip, hating her doubt but knew her mother was only able to twist things because there was some truth to it.
She sat and snapped open the paper, reading the salacious gossip her mother had been dangling over her head all this time.
A common jovial man may be tiring of the cold weather. Could an old friend be turning his head? Rumor has it she has a rather unforgettable laugh.
Clara closed her eyes. She hated the scandal sheets filled with innuendos, but she knew it could only be about Sam and Addie. She remembered their smiles at her parents’ dinner. Jealousy rippled through her. Was there any truth to it? She rubbed away the tears from her cheeks. As much as she hated to think it, everything her mother had insinuated was coming true.
She would always be grateful to Sam but perhaps she had thought more of their union than he did. What did she expect? He practically galloped away after their vows. She had thought too much of it.
“Hello, Clara.”
She turned to see him standing there. She squared her shoulders. “Sam.”
Clara searched his face wanting to see the smiling man who had charmed her so easily when they first met. All she could see was unhappiness. That is what she had done to him, taken him from jovial to utterly despondent. She would not question his choices. It had to be enough for her that he saved her from Dolan. She didn’t want to cause him anymore distress.
“Anything good in the scandal sheets? I don’t know why people read those things.”
She closed her eyes. He wasn’t even aware of his own scandal. Clara shook her head. “No, nothing at all.”
“Clara, I wanted to speak with you about how things are between us?”
She held her hand up. “There is no need. I think perhaps some time and space would do us good. You and I are so very different. Perhaps we should focus on individual pursuits.”
Sam was quiet, and Clara wanted him to take her in his arms like he would have in the beginning. Tell her she was absurd, joke with her. She missed her mate.
Instead, he nodded and smiled stiffly. “A good idea.”
He turned and made his way to the door. Clara, unable to stop herself, said, “Sam, where are you off to?”
He flashed his charming smile at her and said, “Off to find something a common man like me would enjoy.”
She wrinkled her brow in confusion, unsure what he meant. She pushed the thought away. A sadness washed over her that she was the cause of his unhappiness. He had been the happiest man she knew when they first met, but not anymore. How did she make him happy again?
Chapter 27
A few evenings later Sam sat at the Den drinking brandy. He had not returned home since his wife suggested they explore their own pursuits. He sat in the corner of one of the drawing rooms scowling. What did that mean? He couldn’t bear to see her, so he’d spent the last couple of nights sleeping in one of the cottages on the Den’s property. Music and laughter drifted in from the ballroom. Any other night before he met Clara, he would have been in there having himself a good time. That is what he should do right now. Yet, he stayed seated, scowling into his glass.
“What are you doing over here?” Sebastian Devons asked, sitting down across from him.
“Enjoying time to myself.”
“I feel like it wasn’t that long ago I had your brother sitting in my other establishment glowering over a lady and now here you are doing the same thing at the Den.”
“I am not glowering.”
“What is it then? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so unhappy.”
Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair. Devons looked like he had just come from having a good time. His jacket was discarded, and his black hair was disheveled. He had to admit the man could entertain a crowd.
“I am unsure marrying was wise.”
“Why? Do you not like her?” Devons asked, sipping the brandy he held in his hand.
Not like her, Sam thought. That wasn’t possible. She consumed his thoughts. He loved her, craved her, and yearned for her. He wasn’t even sure he could ever change that. It wasn’t about liking or loving her though, it was about how different they truly were. “She is a lady. I wonder if our differences will be too much. We have not been getting along. She accused me of marrying her to better myself.”
Devons choked on his drink. “You?”
He tilted his head back and laughed, drawing attention from others around the room. Sam scowled at him.
