Sam nodded. He knew there was a chance she’d sprint at the first chance. She wasn’t accustomed to bending rules or breaking them. And here he’d seduced her, proposed to her, and planned to lob a cannon ball of a scandal into her life all in one afternoon. She’d come back. Once she’d had a moment to process it all.Becoming a Clark meant accepting chaos as a way of life. Amelia would help her acclimate.
“Sir? Are you ready for the rest of your things?”
“Yes, leave extra room on the right side. Daisy will be joining me after we marry.”
Petrov blinked and then stumbled back into the door.
Sam laughed. “Did I shock you?”
Petrov clutched his chest. “Marriage? You’re marrying Miss Blakewood?”
“Shhh. I haven’t told Amelia or Blakewood, Blakewood being the one who will charge through walls if I don’t explain it to him in the right manner.”
“What manner is that, my lord?” Petrov righted himself and shook off his surprise. A smile followed.
“With affection and care. Responsibly and gently.”
“Congratulations, my lord. But what of the contract?”
“One catastrophe at a time, Petrov. Keep this news to yourself for now. I can’t let Mr. Chase discover Miss Blakewood’s and my plan to marry until I’m ready to present myself at the Den and pray I can come up with something more enticing than me for the widow to sacrifice on her matchmaking alter.”
“I understand.”
Sam finished dressing and stepped out of the way so Petrov could finish his work. He resumed sitting by the hearth, and a scullery maid came and lit a cheerful fire. It wasn’t long before Amelia and Blakewood came to investigate his transition.
Amelia stood silently for a moment, taking in the room. “It smells like him.”
“I hope it never stops,” Sam said.
“You both wear the same eau de cologne, when you chose to wear it,” she said, emotion thickening her voice. Sam watched Blakewood warily as he took in the bookshelf and its contents.
“Your father liked geography?” Blakewood asked.
“Once we were older, he wanted to travel,” Sam said. “To take us beyond England and see the wider world.”
Amelia drifted over to the bed and ran her hand over the cream embroidered coverlet. “I remember when I tried to sleep with him the night of that terrifying thunderstorm, and Nanny Petra threw a tantrum. Papa threatened to turn her out her on the spot if she wouldn’t relent.”
“You remember that?”
“I remember everything about him. He was my first defender—before you or Graham. He taught me what a man and father should be.”
She and Blakewood locked eyes. Sam had to look away. It was a deeply personal moment happening between them. He’d be a little disgusted if it weren’t for the events of the afternoon softening his own heart. Soon he’d have a wife, and they’d have silent communications like that. He could already look at Daisy and guess what she was thinking. The sooner he could love her openly, the freer they would both be.
Blakewood might not believe him at first, but then he’d see how much Sam loved her, and how he hadn’t been ready for marriage until this moment, until Daisy came into his life and conquered his heart. In truth, he’d be lucky if he escaped with only a busted lip and a black eye. But he’d take it. For Daisy.
Sam cleared his throat. There was no use waiting. It would only weigh on Daisy’s conscience the longer they delayed. And he’d rather Daisy not see her brother become violent, so he’d do this part without her.
“Amelia, I need to speak with Blakewood alone.”
Amelia whipped to him, her gaze searching his face. “I know that tone. I know that look,” she said.
“Bloody hell,” he rubbed a hand over his face.
“What?” Blakewood asked.
“He’s going to confess something. What did you do?”
Sam sighed. “Both of you sit—not there.” He stopped Blakewood before he sat in the chair where he and Daisy had been. That was her chair now. She could reupholster it in something more feminine than brown.
