“It was lovely though. Samantha certainly put that Miss Blake in her place,” Kate said with a giggle.
“I wonder where the rest of the family is.” Samantha dragged her eyes from Warwick and rose to her toes to look for them.
“Straight ahead and then veer right,” Warwick said.
“Right. Thank you.” She headed that way, still clutching Rory’s hand, which she should probably have let go by now.
“He is your friend before he was anything else, Samantha.” The words were whispered in her ear. “Never forget that, no matter what is changing between you.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard,” Rory said, “and know exactly what I meant.”
She kept walking as her mind spun with what her brother had said.
“He is your Sinclair, little sister.”
“You can’t know that, Rory.”
“I do, as do the family, but we will discuss it no further tonight. Tomorrow, however, you and I are going to have a talk.”
“What? Who believes Warwick is my Sinclair?” She looked at Kate. Her smile was sheepish, and that told her what she hadn’t wanted to see.
“Everyone.”
Dear Lord.
“Tomorrow, little sister. Tonight, we enjoy all this,” Rory said, squeezing her hand.
Music played in one corner, and James’s staff walked through the guests, holding trays of champagne. Her family were in a large gaggle, as they often were.
“Good evening,” Rory said, tugging his hand free to place it in the middle of her back. Warm and steady.I’m here,it said.
Brothers, she’d come to realize, were wonderful the majority of the time. The time they weren’t was when they were being overly protective. When they questioned you on your actions and movements. When they watched over you with a fierce eye. Add to that her cousins and the rest of their large family, and Samantha was smothered in a thick, soft blanket of love. Not uncomfortable, and lovely and warm but sometimes a bit restrictive.
What had been happening in her life recently had tightened that blanket around her.
They all believed that Warwick was her Sinclair.How had she not realized that?
“Well now, don’t we scrub up well,” Dev said.
And they did. All dressed in their finery looking as grand as any guest in the room. Some were about as comfortable as stepping on an anthill, but still, they were here to support James.
“Mingle,” James said, arriving. “Every year you congregate, and I have to tell you to go forth and chat. Make the guests dip into their pockets and support our charity.”
They all grumbled.
“Prepare to dance, little sister,” James whispered in her ear just as Mr. Blanchet arrived.
“Lady Samantha, may I have this dance?”
“Mr. Blanchet. How wonderful that you were able to make it. My brother told me he had invited you.”
He wore black also and a wide smile just for her, which made her uncomfortable because while she’d told James and Warwick that perhaps she’d been hasty in not returning his adoration, she hadn’t been. Looking at him created no flutters of excitement in her belly like she felt when Warwick was near.
She introduced him to the family, and lastly Warwick once more. His expression did not change, although she was sure he wasn’t happy to see the man.
“Would you like to dance, Lady Samantha?”
