“At the table,” Sam clarified. The master suite had a large bay window overlooking the small garden in the back. There wasn’t much to see but some flower beds, a large tree, and hedges for privacy.
Blakewood and Amelia sat beside each other in the only two chairs. This was a table meant for the earl and countess to have breakfast together, or dinner, in their room. Sam sat on the edge of the bed, then stood.
Amelia was already scowling. “I suspect I won’t like this.”
“You’d be wrong. I think you’ll love this,” Sam said.
Blakewood folded his arms. “I have appointments, you know.”
“What appointments?” Sam asked, momentarily distracted.
“My own. I still have my properties and investments to manage and a house to buy for Amelia and myself.”
“You’re leaving?” Sam asked. “Why?”
“We can’t stay here. You’ll need privacy once you marry, and we don’t know who this woman is yet or whether I can tolerate her,” Amelia said sullenly.
“You’ll adore her,” Sam said. He folded his arms.
“I—” Amelia frowned at him. “What?”
“I don’t know how to say this except to offer a secondary proposal.” Sam kneeled before Blakewood.
Blakewood rolled his eyes.
“Blakewood, you have been a steadfast friend for four years. I didn’t think we had much to get on about, being so different in manner and age, but you changed me for the better. You taught me things I should have learned from a father. You are like a brother to me. Older brother. Soveryold.”
Amelia snorted and Blakewood threw her a glare.
“What is your point?” Blakewood asked.
Sam sobered, his heart pounding so hard he got a little dizzy, but he held Blakewood’s stare. He really thought he’d have something profound to say. To prove he wasn’t marrying Daisy as some half-cocked idea. But nothing came to him. There was only one thing he could say—perhaps the most important thing to tell the brother of the woman he wanted to marry.
“I fell in love with her.”
Blakewood unfolded his arms, his lips twitched as he studied Sam, piecing the meaning together. His face transformed into a mask of anger.
“With who—” Amelia began, then covered her mouth with a gasp.
“You know I wouldn’t feel this way for just anyone. I mean this. I love her, and I want to marry her.”
“Get up,” Blakewood snarled.
Sam winced as he got to his feet, and his rib reminded him he was already broken. A pummeling from Blakewood was going to hurt worse than his broken rib.
“Wait!” Amelia got up and came between them, her back to Blakewood. “Explain yourself.”
“What is there to explain? The moment she walked into my room and—”
“It’s not real,” Blakewood spat. “This is just some desperate attempt to break the bargain we made to save his life.” Amelia put a hand to Blakewood’s chest, but she kept her gaze fixed on Sam.
“I’d have to agree with him, brother. This seems rash. After all you’ve been through—”
“Exactly,” Sam said. “After all I’ve been through, it was Daisy who brought the light back into my life. Daisy who made mesmile, laugh, and it’s Daisy who holds my heart. I know she’s betrothed to bloody Cliffton.”
“He’s not that bad,” Blakewood argued.
“He is,” Sam said. “His mother is even worse.”
