“Oh, now we both know that denial is not just a river in Egypt.”
“That’s the Nile, Uncle Zach,” Merry said.
“Right. Silly me. Thank you for the correction, Merry.” He kissed the top of her head. “I must now say hello to your beautiful aunt, girls, as she will be quite bereft if I do not.”
Zach walked to Samantha’s side and greeted her. She turned from the men, which was his intention and bowed to her.
“May I say how radiant you look today, my lady. The sweetest rose in a bouquet of many. We have quite missed our brightest bloom.”
“Thank you, kind sir.” She executed a perfect curtsey and gave him a dazzling smile. Warwick hadn’t received one of them from her since she’d returned to London. Had he ever had one? And what did Zach mean about denial?
Warwick felt unsettled and antsy, like someone had ruffled his hair and pulled his ears like his siblings used to when he was a child.
“You’re growling, Uncle Warwick.”
“Sorry, Kat, just clearing my throat.”
Looking left, everything inside him stiffened as he saw a gaggle of young ladies. Well three actually, but there seemed a great deal more approaching.
“Samantha. Time to go!” he said with a bit more force to his words than needed, but then Zach’s words had disturbed him. Her head turned his way and then to the women.
“Excuse me,” she said to the men all vying for her attention. “I must return to Mr. Warwick Sinclair and our nieces.” She walked to his side.
“We need to go, Samantha.”
“Surely there is no hurry. They are but three women?”
“While you may enjoy that kind of fawning outside the ballroom, I promise you I do not.”
“Are you deliberately being nasty? Because I did not ask those gentlemen to approach me, nor did I fawn over anyone,” she snapped. Her blue eyes were shooting fire at him now.
“Sorry. That came out wrong—”
“I’m not sure how that could come out right.” The words were coated in ice.
“Look. I’m sorry, all right. For everything. I seem to be having an off day.”
Her eyes studied him. “Are you unwell?”
“No, I don’t think so. My throat does tickle a bit,” he lied. It was beneath him, but he’d use whatever tactics he could to have those blue eyes thaw. For some reason, he was constantly putting his foot in his mouth today. So, he’d fall back on something he knew worked. Eliciting her sympathy.
He watched as she pulled off her glove.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking your forehead.”
“Samantha, we are in a park.” Warwick looked around them. The men were dividing their attention between Samantha and the ladies. “You can’t do that here,” he whispered. But he was too late, and her hand touched his forehead.
“You are a bit warm. Do you think that you may have caught what I had?” Her eyes were now clouded with concern, which should make him feel guilty. No, really, it should.
“I’m fine. Put your glove back on.”
“Good day to you, Lady Samantha.”
The women had arrived, and escape was no longer possible, so he did the only thing he could. He took Samantha’s hand and slipped it through his arm.
“Good day to you, Lady Blake, Miss Blake, Miss Mary Blake, and Miss Patterson,” Samantha said, tugging Merry in front of her with her free hand, as Warwick did the same with Kat.
