“Mr. Blakewood, you will remain here.”
Blakewood opened his mouth to protest but Sam cut him off with a look. He and Amelia had gotten far too comfortable speaking for him.
“Do you think she’ll pull a gun on me?” Sam quipped.
Blakewood raised a brow, and Chase chuckled. “That’s usually my job, but I’m not armed at the moment.”
Chase smirked and Sam followed him down another hall and up a flight of stairs to a door, slightly ajar. Soft, gold light fell through it and a fire could be heard popping in the grate. Chase knocked twice on the door before entering.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon sat in a large, winged back chair, sipping tea. She took note of Sam and gestured for him to sit.
“Well, isn’t this a delightful surprise.”
“You weren’t expecting me?” Sam asked with a sly smile.
“Not this soon, no. But your punctuality only affirms how right you are for my match. A dependable man, astute, emotionally mature despite your youth, physically appealing, intelligent, charming, and overall good. There are too few men like you.”
“Careful, or you’ll make me fall in love with you,” Sam bantered.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon chuckled. “Alas, I don’t care for the challenges of love. Marriage is a business.”
“I disagree. And if it were not for my sister signing for me, I would have never agreed to an arranged match. Even if it meant my death. My father loved my mother. I want what they hadeven though I never got to see it for myself. My father’s love was evident when he talked about our mother, and he made sure we knew her as best we could even though she was gone. He cherished her until his last breath, and I want that. I want to be in love.” Sam swallowed and fought the urge to tug at his collar as his neck grew hot. Sam glanced behind him where Chase waited by the door. “You aren’t privy to this meeting.”
Chase pointedly looked to his employer.
“Fetch Miss Smith,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said.
Sam cocked a brow. “Is there a reason for that?”
“We’ll find out, won’t we?”
A chill spread through his belly. Would she be that bold? He couldn’t see more than her chin and the shadow of a bottom lip through her veil, but he felt her gaze, and there was so much anticipation in the thread that tightened between them that Sam started to sweat.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I hardly think you know me well enough to know the things I would and would not do, Lord Alston. But you have a cunning mind. You anticipate your opponent’s actions to an eerie degree of success. A lesser person might think you were clairvoyant.”
Sam snorted and dropped his head back in disbelief. “This is ridiculous.”
“It wasn’t I who needed proof of your husbandly aptitude. My choice of bride for you is a woman who needs reassurance. She’s suffered. She’s frightened. She had to see for herself what kind of man you were.”
Sam ran a hand through his hair, ruining the sculpted waves of Petrov’s work.
Miss Smith.
Silent as a mouse, shrinking herself down when she was near him. Her voice soft, her manners hesitant. She’d grown morerelaxed with Sloan and Chase but not with him, not particularly, and she spoke even less when Daisy was present.
Daisy.
Miss Smith knew all about Daisy, how much time they spent together. Did she suspect there was something between them? Had she informed Mrs. Dove-Lyon? Guilt settled in his gut like a cannonball. He’d had no reason to suspect Miss Smith was anything more than what she was.
“I’m here because I wish to annul the contract,” Sam said gruffly. He cleared his throat. “I won’t be marrying your choice. I’m happy to arrange another agreement to repay your kindness. There isn’t much I won’t do, but I won’t marry a woman I don’t love.”
She scoffed. “That word again. What makes you so sure you wouldn’t come to love her in time? You’ve seen her. She is young and beautiful. You can be patient with her, kind. What else is needed in a marriage but patience and kindness?”
“Forgive me, but I won’t. If it is money, then give me a price. Does she need financial support? She can have it. A position in my household? Done.”
“She needs a husband, Lord Alston. A powerful husband who can protect her.”
