Chase strode toward him, his emotions unreadable. Quicker than Sam anticipated, Chase swung at him. Sam dodged the hit, twisting and dipping his shoulder. Pain wrenched through his side, and he couldn’t breathe has he dropped to his knees.
Chase knelt before him and put a hand on his shoulder as Sam finally felt his lungs expand, just barely.
“See? You need my help. Stop acting like an arrogant prig and just accept it.”
Sam sucked in a breath, the fire in his side ebbing only a little. He hadn’t had to move that fast or twist like that since before his injury. “Why would you help me?” he wheezed.
A feminine gasp filled the hall. Chase glanced past him and small hands took Sam by the shoulders.
“My lord, are you all right?” Miss Brandon dropped to her knees at his side. “What did you do to him?” She speared Chase with a glare that made Sam smile as Chase flinched.
“I reminded him that he’s injured and should accept help when offered.”
“I’m fine,” Sam wheezed. “I moved too swiftly, that is all.” He drew in a bigger breath. His side was still burning but it was tolerable. He could move again. He pushed to his feet and so did Chase and Miss Brandon.
“I would hope you’d be wise and listen to Mr. Chase, my lord. He is as honest as they come, and a great deal more compassionate than he’d like others to know.”
“Is that so?” Sam watched Chase as a flush climbed his neck.
“To her, yes. To you, no.”
Sam smirked. It seemed Chase was feeling a bit more than protective over Miss Brandon, after all. Was he the reason she had released him from his obligation to marry he so swiftly? Could the feeling be mutual? Sam rolled his shoulders. Maybe Chase wanted to impress her.
“Fine. Help me. But we’re not scaling a damn wall.”
“It’s not negotiable.”
“Good God, why?”
“You’ll see. Meet me in your mews at seven, and wear something less... lordly. Look common.”
Sam nodded. “Understood.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
That evening, Daisylanguished in the bath, sipping her third cup of hot chocolate. Sam had returned after his meeting, pensive and rather closed lipped about histask, as he called it. He had to fetch something for Mrs. Dove-Lyon and that’s all he would say. But it would happen tonight after dinner. When he’d told them all, Amelia and Graham had been overwrought and bubbling with questions that had only angered Sam. He’d stormed off to his suite, moving stiffly, and Amelia and Graham had argued softly with each other in the drawing room. Daisy, not wanting to be near any of them in her own terrible mood, chose to take a bath in her room. She was sore, aching where Sam had driven himself into her over and over. The mere memory made her hungry for more, despite the soreness she already bore.
Daisy didn’t doubt he could improve her mood as long as she didn’t pester him with questions. And truly, she didn’t need to know. Ataskdidn’t sound particularly dangerous. But no matter what it was, she wanted him to go with the memory of her love pulsing in his veins. A bit of encouragement for him to succeed and hurry home.
Most of all, she wanted this madness to be over. Which was why she had begun a letter to her mother and father. She’d feelbetter if she could work through what she might say to them. She couldn’t be afraid, not now, not after last night. Nothing anyone could say could prevent her and Sam from marrying. But that didn’t stop her stomach from turning into knots at the idea of a confrontation with her parents. She’d never done something like this. She’d always been the good, dutiful daughter.
Now she would ask them to end her betrothal. Daisy supposed it was a blessing Cliffton had not returned sooner. She could only imagine the nightmare this would be if he had, and there were a wedding date set and plans in place. Just the idea made her stomach turn.
“Thank you, Cliffton.” Daisy never thought she’d be grateful to him for ignoring her all these years.
For her marriage to Sam, Daisy wasn’t going to wait longer than the standard four weeks. Once the banns were read the final time, they’d marry, she’d move in here, and they’d begin their life, together.
As long as tonight went well.
It was almost time for dinner. Daisy dressed in something comfortable. Wind still battered the house, but the rain had lessened. Before leaving her room, Daisy had a note from Amelia that she wasn’t feeling well, and that she and Graham would be dining in their room. Amelia didn’t anticipate Sam wanting to dine with them after the way the afternoon had gone, so Daisy went to the dining room thinking she’d be dining alone, but there he sat.
Daisy entered, her heart lifting at the sight of him, even though his face was somber. In the short time she’d been here, she hadn’t seen him look so withdrawn. He’d been angry, yes. Mischievous, most definitely. Happy, smiling, teasing, exhausted, petulant—but never like this, like he carried an immense weight.
Or maybe he was afraid of what he had to do tonight. The thought sent a cold chill down her spine. Daisy took the chair at his right, and the moment he noticed her, the far-off look in his gaze evaporated, the butter knife he’d been spinning in his hand was set down, and he angled his body toward hers.
“Daisy, I’m sorry I’ve been missing most of the afternoon.”
“Were you hurt earlier?”
