“Which bag?”
She pointed to one, and he opened it, bringing it closer so she could inspect the contents. She got out what she wanted and walked behind the screen.
“I will return soon, Samantha. I want to check on your maid.”
She reappeared from behind the screen, still wrapped in the blanket.
“Why are you angry with me?”
“You’re angry with me,” he shot back.
At least color was coming back to her pretty face. She no longer looked close to death, which she had when he’d gotten to her.
“B-but I felt your anger from the moment you found me.”
“I am not angry.” He softened his words. It was not her fault he could still feel the rage of finding her as he had.
“You are, and I’m sorry I put you to so much trouble.”
“You think I’m angry because you inconvenienced me?”
She nodded.
“You could have died, Samantha.” Her eyes widened at the fury in his tone. “You could have ended up on the bottom of the ocean or broken like your maid.”
“But I did not, and I have you to thank for rescuing us.” She moved closer, her hand patting his chest.
It was a gesture she would have done to any of her brothers or his, Warwick thought. He felt it through his entire body.
“I will see to your maid.” He stepped back and away from her and then made for the door. Letting himself out, he closed it softly behind him.
Just that glimpse of her skin and the back of her neck had added to his tension and unease. He’d always been aware of Samantha, as one would be an angry wasp that was an annoyance but little else. That had changed over the last few years.
In fact, it had changed when he’d noticed men admiring Lady Samantha. Jealousy was not something he experienced, but he had done so with her. He’d combated the growing feeling by annoying her and treating her as he always had.
Warwick walked along the hallway, remembering that night a few years ago when she’d walked into the ballroom behind him. He’d turned when James had acknowledged him, and seen her beside her big brother. Her blond hair had been pinned on top of her head, and she wore tiny sparkling clips that caught the light above as she walked. Her dress had been pale blue and fell to the floor with an overskirt of sheer ivory lace. He’d felt like someone had punched him hard in the stomach. Warwick hadn’t looked at her the same since. No matter how hard he’d tried.
CHAPTERTHREE
Knocking on the door, it soon was answered by Archie.
“How is Penny?”
“A maid helped make her more comfortable, sir. The doctor is here.” His valet looked pale.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure how good he is, sir. He’s awfully rough with Penny.”
“Let me in.”
The doctor was elderly and shot him a dark look as Warwick approached the bed.
“Good day,” Warwick said.
“I am to set the bone now. Please leave, sir.”
“My name is Mr. Warwickshire Sinclair. This is the maid of my sister-in-law. I am here to see she is cared for.”
