Chapter 11
“Miss Samantha, I do not think this is something we should be discussing.” Behind closed doors, he wanted to add but smartly kept that bit to himself. Bloody hell, the woman had trapped him using his own words. “I think it best—“
A coy smirk lit her face, halting his words of caution.
It was the same smile he’d noticed when he plucked her from the side of the road before the storm.
“But, my lord, you recommended a diversion.” She pushed her bottom lip out in a pout when he shook his head, unable to speak at her suggestive remark.
She looked up at him from under lowered lashes. “I will be an eager pupil.”
The woman was a siren. A minx sent to throw him off course. She was doing a stellar job of it. “Why don’t I escort you downstairs or to the lawn area? The other guests were playing battledore and shuttlecock on the west lawn earlier.”
“Not the type of distraction I was thinking of, Lord Ridgefeld,” she cooed, her tongue darting out to slide across her plump lower lip.
Was it him, or did she put extra emphasis on Ridge?
His treacherous body responded.
She was a proper miss. Young and innocent, but she played the part of a seasoned courtesan. A woman well-versed in the talents needed to seduce a man—even a man as honorable as Eli.
“Then I have another idea, one you will certainly be more agreeable to.”
His head tilted a bit to the left, his interests piqued. “Go on.”
“We are both in need of distraction, are we not?”
He’d come to Derbyshire for that exact reason, but hadn’t expected his journey to include the maddening, auburn-haired beauty before him who led him to question everything he thought a noble marquis was. “You are correct.”
“Why not allow ourselves to be each other’s diversion while in residence at Hollybrooke?”
Eli was not so gullible as to agree to her proposition without further explanation. “And, exactly how do you see this scheme going?”
“Well, we shall provide one another company during our stay—much as we are now.”
“Much as we are now?” He was in the bedchamber of an unmarried, innocent miss, surrounded by a manor full of guests—in a stranger’s home, no less. Their association was already far past the point of being anywhere near orthodox.
Eli glanced over his shoulder at her rumpled bed coverings, then to her gown closet with her things neatly arranged. Everything as it should be…more to the point, he was the only thing out of place.
“It is not sensible for you and me to keep one another company in such a way, Miss Samantha.” He spoke her name slowly as if she were unable to grasp the meaning of his words.
The room closed in around him. He stood too close to her, so close he could smell her fragrance of juniper berry, a change from her normal lavender scent.
After less than a day, he thought he knew her usual perfume preference?
“Though, I do concede I enjoy your company immensely.”
He shouldn’t have allowed the last words to cross his lips.
She smiled triumphantly and clapped her hands vigorously. “Then I propose we attempt to make the next couple of days tolerable for us both…no more sulking, no more melancholy, and more entertainment. You will set aside your grief, and I will overcome my coming loss.”
He should in no way agree to her proposal.
The wise decision would be to turn around immediately and slip from her room unseen.
To forget their time in the carriage, their time in her chambers today…
and, if he were truly smart, ignore their time together in the study.
However, Eli was reluctant to sour her delightful mood by rejecting her suggestion outright.
Her request was a simple one: two days, or what remained of their time in Derbyshire, with his company as a distraction. She was requesting nothing but his time—which Eli had in spades.
“To clarify, we will accompany one another while in a proper setting?”
“If that is your wish, my lord,” she conceded with a nod.
“Very well, then,” he replied. “I would like to know more of what you propose.”
Sam leapt from her seat and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close for a tight hug. “It will include…”
Her words trailed off as all Eli could think about was her arms wrapped around him. The feel of her breasts pressed to this chest. The way her hips aligned with his. And that, when she spoke, her breath lingered at his neck…warm and inviting.
He suspected he would regret his decision to go along with her plan—he only hoped he was far from Derbyshire before his remorse truly sank in.
Sam released her hold—far too soon, but also too late to dissuade the stirring within him—and bounded back to the bed.
She seemed completely unwitting of the scandal it would cause if he were discovered in her private chambers.
Even if a chaperone had been present, it would be exceedingly inappropriate.
There was no hiding how aware he was of her exquisite beauty: her hair begging to be released from its trappings to fall wildly down her back, her gown a bit too snug across her breasts, and the way her skirt rose, revealing a quick glimpse of a shapely white ankle as she’d hopped on her bed.
His manhood jumped in response.
Her bed.
Her rumpled, sleep-disturbed bed.
Large, plush, and covered in a soft peach and white coverlet. In fact, the entire room was decorated with feminine pieces, from the white writing desk in the corner to the brass chandelier hung high above the bed. The chaise close to the window was a creamy white with pillows matching the drapes.
He focused on her troubled demeanor to keep his own wayward thoughts from moving into actions.
But even with all this light, bright décor, the room was cast in shadows with the draperies tied tightly shut and not a single lit candle.
It was much the way Sam appeared when he’d first walked into her chambers—surrounded by shadows, as if stalked by what haunted her.
Though it did not diminish her outward glow.
His own chambers were in direct opposition to this one. The color palette was dominated by varying shades of the darkest blues with large, oversized pieces of dark cherry wood furniture. Not a speck of soft color or delicate, girlish adornments could be found in the room.
Thankfully, she hopped from the bed and hurried to the closest window. Pulling back the heavy drape, Sam pinned it in place with the tie and rummaged through the writing desk before retrieving a slip of paper and a pencil, its tip sharpened to a deadly point.
Eli feared for a moment she would return to her place on the bed, but again, luck was in his favor as she took the seat next to his once more.
She cleared her throat, setting the paper on the small table between them.
“Now, it is my understanding you are unfamiliar with the guests in residence, is that correct?” When he nodded, she continued, “Very well, I will task myself with familiarizing you with everyone: names, titles, estate location, and interests. Is that agreeable?”
“Certainly, it would be most helpful.”
“Marvelous.” She leaned over the table and scribbled a few hasty notes on the paper.
From his vantage point, he could not read what she wrote.
“What are you to gain from our arrangement?” Her interest in him puzzled Eli greatly.
She was a stunning beauty, poised and elegant, blessed with a charming wit to match.
He, on the other hand, was a social outcast by choice.
While widely traveled and educated—all thanks to his grandfather—Eli was not a society man.
He was a gentleman, thanks once more to his grandfather; however, he’d never attended a soirée or playhouse in London.
He was most at home at his country estate or gallivanting across the wilds of England, Scotland—or even the deserts of Africa.
Adventure was what he craved, what he missed most about his grandfather. However, could he find the kind of thrills he was used to in the arms of Sam?
The twinkle in Miss Samantha’s eyes told him she too sought adventure, although Eli suspected that partaking of an exploit among society was far more dangerous than exploring the caves in Egypt.
Sam was utterly shocked Elijah had agreed to her request. She kept her eyes on the paper before her to keep hidden how much she looked forward to their arrangement.
If she’d known she would open her bedchamber door to find Elijah standing there or that she’d propose this plan, then she would have thought it through beforehand, instead of scrambling now to figure out how best to use their arrangement to her advantage.
Dare she admit what she desired from their association? Maybe an ounce of truth would not be awful to admit.
“It is simple, my lord.” And it was rather simple, at least in Sam’s mind.
“You will escort me about Cummings’ home: to all gatherings, meals, and entertainments.
It will appear I am being courted by a marquis, a quite dashing gentleman.
” Sam paused, giving him a wink. “This will show any eligible gentlemen I am a prize. I have heard the best way to gain the attention of men is to appear unattainable.” And no doubt it would impress her father greatly.
“Are you seeking attention, Miss Samantha?”
“Does not every woman?” she replied, setting her pencil aside.
“I would not know what a lady seeks.”
The man acted as if he hadn’t ever been in the company of women. “What about your mother…mayhap a grandmother, aunts, or female cousins?”
His chin dipped, and she noticed that his hands were clenched tightly into fists in his lap. “My grandmother died long ago—I barely remember her—and I have no other female relations. It was only ever Grandfather and me.”
“Then I can help you in another way, as well.” Elijah was affording her the perfect diversion to keep her boredom—and father—at bay until they departed for London. “I shall give you an education in women. I am certain you wish to find a match at some point.”