He held her stare. “You said you couldn’t marry me.”
Daisy squeezed his hand. “I take it back.”
He smiled and lifted their linked hands to kiss the back of her hand. “I’d give you a real kiss, but I don’t think your brother would like it.”
“I wouldn’t,” Blakewood muttered.
“Hurrah! The celebratory engagement dinner can now commence,” Amelia shouted.
Daisy blinked. “What? This is an engagement dinner?”
“An impromptu one,” Blakewood said. “We’ll have another with mother and father. I’ve sent off another message asking them to return as soon as possible.”
Daisy sunk in her chair. “I’m not dressed for a celebration.”
Amelia looked at her gown. “You’re dressed fine.”
“But Sam is so elegant in his attire.”
Sam beamed at her.
“Sam is a peacock,” Amelia retorted.
Sam rolled his eyes. “When you’ve been lying in your own sweat and clothing for days a time, you’ll want to dress fancy too. I needed to remember I could.”
“Could what?” Daisy asked.
“Look like myself again.”
Daisy could smile at that, finally. Sam lifted his glass of wine.
“To Daisy, for being my light in the dark.”
This time Daisy’s hand was steady when she reached for her glass.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mr. Clark,
Meet me at White’s at half past three. Tell them you’re meeting a Mr. Porter. I have evidence of Lord Alston’s death.
They left itunsigned.
Sam could still hear Amelia’s litany of curses on his head as he and Blakewood took the carriage to White’s. Sam stared out the window, agog at the world and how big it seemed after his confinement. Was he mistaken, or was London more beautiful than it used to be? He must be delirious. It was the same but not, or perhaps he simply had a new appreciation for the ability to leave his home. Sam took a deep breath and skated his hand over the velvet of the coach seat. Bloody hell, he even missed his coach. He flicked at the tassel hanging on the small curtain and smiled.
“Something amiss?” Blakewood asked with amusement.
Sam shrugged. “I just can’t believe I’m finally outside.”
He wished Daisy were here, and Amelia, but White’s would not permit women entry. Which meant that Aunt Ruth would also be absent. Sam wanted a public place to enact hishumiliation on Nelson without his mother there to use her hysterics to their advantage. The woman fainted at clouds if it could so much as earn her a glance from a person of note.
“Are you sure about this?” Blakewood asked.
“Absolutely.”
“It will stir up more scandal.”
“Nelson loves scandal. And Aunt Ruth will get all the attention she desperately craves, just not in the manner she wants.”
