“I would indeed. Thank you,” she lied. In fact, she wanted to dance with no man but Warwick, but as that would create a stir, she held out her hand.
She didn’t look at her family as he led her to the floor. Samantha stood in the line beside Lilly, and Dev was opposite.
“He seems nice,” Lilly said.
“He is very nice. We had many wonderful conversations about art in Ireland,” Samantha said.
“But he is not the one,” Lilly added.
Beautiful in deep emerald, her fair hair was styled perfectly. Regal, Samantha thought, as was Dev who was now chatting with Mr. Blanchet, who was beside him.
“Are you completely recovered, Lilly?” Samantha asked instead of answering the question. Because now she knew her family thought Warwick was her Sinclair, she had no wish to discuss the matter with anyone until she’d spoken with him.
“As I told you yesterday and the day before, I am. My illness has passed, and healing Warwick did not take everything out of me, as Hannah helped.”
“Is she all right?”
“Very much so. We have talked continually, and while I’ve always known what she was capable of, Dev and I thought it best to not discuss it with family until she was ready. Which she now is. My daughter is far stronger than me.”
“I doubt that. It is more likely that she has been raised to embrace who she is, unlike you.”
As the music started, the conversation ended.
“You have a wonderful family, my lady,” Mr. Blanchet said when she took his hand in a turn.
“Thank you, yes, they are very special.”
“It is seeing them that has reminded me just how much I miss mine.” His smile was rueful. “Perhaps I will return home soon.”
“It is hard to be apart from those we love.”
He gave her a gentle smile but said nothing further until they met again.
“There is no one more beautiful than you here tonight, Lady Samantha,” Mr. Blanchet said.
“Thank you.” Something made her look to the left, and there he was. Warwick Sinclair, watching her. Brows lowered, eyes narrowed. He was standing with Zach Deville beside the dance floor, glowering.
“I wonder if you would go driving with me while I am in London, my lady?”
She shot Warwick another look. He shook his head, clearly having heard every word.
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
“Excellent. I have yet to promenade but have heard a great deal about it.”
“Then promenade we shall, Mr. Blanchet.”
Samantha could almost feel the anger vibrating off Warwick. They had kissed yes, and clearly there was something stronger forming between them, but Mr. Blanchet was her friend, and possibly she was the only acquaintance he had in London. She could at least spend time with him while he was here, and Warwick Sinclair needed to understand that.
She shot him another look. He was still glaring at her. Strange how that made her want to smile.
CHAPTERTHIRTY
She would not be going driving with that weasel, Blanchet. It was not safe for her to leave the family, so if she wished to go, one of them would be accompanying her.
Warwick had spent the hours since their kiss thinking constantly about Samantha, and he could no longer deny he wanted her. She was his Raven no matter how much he’d denied it.
She’d looked directly at him and gone against what he’d signaled for her not to do by agreeing to go driving with Blanchet. For all she was the gentle Raven, she still had a strong will when she felt it was needed. Clearly, him shaking his head had provoked her.
