“True,” Warwick said. “Don’t pick up that stick, Merry!”
The child shot him a look but kept walking.
“What’s wrong, other than being annoyed with me that is?”
“Pardon?” Samantha still wouldn’t look at him.
“I’ve known you for many years, Samantha, and I know when something is off with you. You have smudges beneath your eyes, and I sense all is not well with you.”
“Nothing is off.” She said that far too quickly.
“Yes, there is. Talk to me, Samantha. Kat, stop trying to stand on Merry’s foot!”
“There is nothing to say. I am well and just adjusting to being back with the family. I have been alone, barring those that studied with me, for a year. You will allow me that, I hope?”
She was right, of course. There had been the illness, kidnapping, and reuniting with her family. Any one of those things could put her off her stride. Why then, did he believe there was more to it?
“Lady Samantha!”
“God save me,” Warwick muttered as two men hurried toward them.
“Society has been a dull and grey place since you left it, my dear Lady Samantha,” the first man said, taking her hand and bowing deeply over it.
“My dear Lady Samantha, tell us you will not leave again. I fear we will be distraught as there is no reason for us to smile when we are deprived of your beauty,” the next man said, reaching them.
“I’m sure the other women in society would be most displeased to hear you say those words, Atkins,” Warwick said, moving closer to Samantha. “After all, did I not see you dancing with Miss Levin just two nights ago and heard you say she was exquisite? Or did I get that wrong.”
Samantha stood on his foot. Not hard but enough that he felt it. Warwick smiled. That was more like the woman he knew and loved… not loved in that way, just the sister and friend way.
She was not his Raven!
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
Warwick gnashed his teeth as Lord Lutton and Mr. Atkins gushed over Samantha. Both were snooty and pompous, and he’d never liked either of them. Unlike his family, who’d come into wealth later in life, these two had always slept on the finest woven linen bedsheets and had plenty of food on their sideboards. He doubted they’d ever raised a sweat in their lives.
“Why have you stopped?” Merry said, taking Samantha’s hand.
“We are talking with friends I have not seen since leaving London, Merry.” Samantha’s smile was sweet for the men. Warwick felt irrationally jealous.
“What a lovely sight you are with this charming little girl in hand,” Atkins simpered.
“My father says Merry and I are children of Satan, not charming little girls,” Kat said. She now stood beside Warwick, holding his hand.
Lutton’s mouth fell open, and Atkins actually retreated a step.
“I assure you Lord Sinclair says that with love,” Samantha rushed to add.
“Well, there was that time—”
“And how has your dear mother, Lady Lutton, been, my lord?” Samantha cut Warwick off.
He felt Lutton’s eyes go from Samantha to Warwick and back again. He didn’t see Warwick as any kind of threat. He and Samantha were friends and nothing more. All true, so why then did Warwick want to punch him hard in the nose?
“My lady, how wonderful you have returned.”
Another three men approached.Where the hell had they come from?One of them had previously made it obvious he wanted to pursue Samantha. After all, she was a duke’s daughter.
“Why are those men smiling and complimenting Aunty Sam?” Kat whispered, tugging him back a step.
