He turned to stare at his brother so fast his neck cracked.
“Come on, Warwick, we are not fools.”
He actually had no words.
“So, if you would dig deep,” James said, “there are those who walk the very streets we do each day in worn clothes with empty bellies who would benefit from your generosity. Children without families to feed them who need our help to have the things that we take for granted every day.”
“We give a lot, but every time he delivers this speech, I want to give a great deal more,” Cam whispered.
“Aye. Cam—”
“Not tonight, little brother. We will talk tomorrow about you and Samantha.”
“No, we will not,” Warwick muttered.
“First to perform, as they always are, is my beautiful and talented duchess and my equally as beautiful and talented sister, Mrs. Rose Sinclair,” James said.
They had the audience in their hands in seconds, as both had lovely voices and played extraordinarily well. Warwick had heard them many times and was still impressed.
“Excuse me, brother.” He walked away from Cam before he could stop him and continued his search for Samantha.
Did all his family think she was his Raven?
“I thought you were having knives thrown at you, but I just saw Samantha head that way, and she said Mr. Blanchet was assisting her.”
Somer was standing with Gus, watching the performance. Warwick didn’t speak, just walked on. His siblings were used to him ignoring them, although he would pay in some way later. He saw Blanchet up ahead.
“There is no need to assist, Lady Samantha. I shall do so, Blanchet.”
“Pardon?” The man turned at the hand Warwick put on his shoulder.
“I will assist Lady Samantha as I have done so many times before. You enjoy the show as it will be quite the spectacle.” He walked around the Frenchman and straight for the door, not giving him time to argue the point.
Walking through, he took the hallway and found her. Samantha was bent over a small narrow table inspecting her knives.
“I hope they are not too sharp.”
She didn’t straighten, but instead turned her head to study him.
“Mr. Blanchet is helping.” Her voice was cool. “There is no need for you to be here, Warwick.”
“Are you dismissing me, Lady Samantha?” Seeing her clearly unsettled by his presence and trying not to show it had drained his anger.
“Go away please, Warwick, I am attempting to focus.”
He wrapped fingers around her arm and tugged her to face him. “I don’t want to go away.” Leaning closer, he kissed her softly. “Now, how about you show me just how good you are with those knives.”
“Warwick—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Not now, Samantha. Soon, we’ll talk.”
“Mr. Blanchet is coming.” The words came out a whisper.
“No, he’s not.” His eyes ran down her body. The woman was beautiful. It was in her bones. The curve of her cheek just below her ear. The line of her sweet nose. He’d just not allowed himself to acknowledge it before.
“Don’t….”
“What?”
