Chapter 22
Eli pulled Sam as close to his side as propriety allowed as they stepped through the open double doors and into the ballroom.
Many people turned in their direction—some expressions filled with surprise, others with envy, and many with indifference.
On the surface, he and Sam were only another pair of finely dressed people entering a room filled to bursting with other extravagantly adorned couples.
Yet, he knew there was much more to his and Sam’s connection.
How far he’d have to go to prove that point was still to be determined.
Surveying the room, Eli located Lord Gunther and then the raven-haired lord.
Never once did he allow his smile to falter, though envy clawed at his insides. On his arm was the most enchanting woman in the room. Her cunning only added to her allure. Eli dared any man to disagree.
From the raw, jealous stares sent his way, not a single man—spoken for or not—would argue with his assessment.
“I am yours to command,” he reassured her. “You only need say the word.”
“Firstly.” She stepped down into the ballroom. “You shall attend me at all social functions.”
“That is much as it was at Hollybrooke.” He nodded his agreement.
“Secondly, you will escort me when I wish it,” she paused, smiling to a couple as they passed. “Good eve, Lord and Lady Michaelson. I do hope you enjoyed the meal.” She returned her focus to him. “Wherever I wish to go.”
Eli nodded to the unfamiliar pair as they passed, noting the way the man kept a close watch on Sam, and the lady narrowed her eyes as her husband gawked.
“We did, thank you,” Lord Michaelson said as the couple moved on.
Sam leaned toward him and whispered. “They are unsure if I am me or Judith.”
“A pity.” He steered her toward the far wall that led to the refreshment table, and away from Lord Gunther. The raven-haired lord had disappeared into the card room. “Do enlighten me on where exactly you would have me escort you.”
She waved her hand, as if to say it wasn’t important. “I have yet to decide, my lord.”
“And the third condition to our agreement?”
“If I become entangled in a conversation I wish to be rescued from, I will give you a signal, and you will come to my aid, no matter who I am speaking with.”
It sounded simple enough, and much in line with what Eli had hoped for them. She was asking him to court her…in not so many words, but her meaning could not be any clearer. He would oblige her until she was able to admit she too felt attraction for him.
“Am I allowed a question, or two?”
“Certainly, my lord.” They reached the refreshment table and accepted flutes of champagne from a servant before turning. He maneuvered her toward the terrace. However, she seemed agreeable to his intended destination. “I might even allow three.”
He took a sip of his drink to hide his smile before clearing his throat. “In our previous agreement, I was also reaping a benefit. With these new terms, what will I gain?”
“The same, of course,” she retorted. “I will keep the marriage-hungry maidens at bay.”
“And…”
“And what?”
“You are now asking for more in this arrangement. It is only fair that things continue to be mutually beneficial to us both.” He knew he risked having her walk away, call off the arrangement altogether; however, he could not allow her to treat him like her own personal lap dog.
He longed for nothing more than to continue their relationship, but at the expense of his manhood? That was not an option for him.
She remained quiet as they stepped out onto the terrace. The nightly breeze had subsided, and the cold had turned to a mild chill, though not many braved the elements in the outdoor area. It served Elijah and his need for privacy.
Sam gave a short laugh. “My lord, it is you who owes me, not the other way around.”
“Be that as it may,” Eli continued, “I haven’t any notion what exactly you expect from me.”
Sam touched her fingertip to her lip in thought. “A kiss.”
“A single kiss?” A single kiss would never be enough to satisfy the ever-increasing need within him.
They paused at the terrace railing, and she removed her hand from his sleeve, placing both gloves on the cold rock wall. “A kiss is a most generous offering.”
“I did not say it was not.” He matched her stance and stared out into the dark night beyond. “However, no contract is legally binding nor in good faith if both parties do not receive mutual satisfaction.”
“And what do you suggest to make this arrangement more…mutually beneficial for us both?”
“A kiss for each time I escort you. A kiss for each task I complete.” In a way, he knew this new proposal played greatly in his favor. If anything were to spark a deep desire in her, it was another kiss. Many more kisses, if he were lucky. “Simple and uncomplicated.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Very well. A kiss in return for each favor I request.”
Eli smiled into the night, happy with their agreement. In essence, he would court Miss Samantha Pengarden, and if all worked in his favor, she’d be deeply in love with him before she realized his ploy to make the woman his.
It only took fourteen hours for Eli to realize he’d made a grand mistake by striking a bargain with Sam.
And thinking that, at any point, he’d had the upper hand, now proved how misguided he’d been.
She’d soundly duped him. He threw the letter down on his dressing table and rubbed his face before reading it once more, but the words remained the same.
Dear Lord Ridgefeld,
Thank you for your gracious acceptance. It is my wish to see a gentleman’s boxing club. Do arrive at eleven sharp, and we shall attend the morning rounds at Gentleman Jackson’s. I hope I am not mistaken in assuming your status can gain us entry.
With kind regards,
Miss Samantha Pengarden
She could not actually mean to request he secure them entrance into a lord’s gentlemen-only establishment such as Gentleman Jackson’s.
The comical—or possibly better called, sad—part of the entire debacle was that Eli hadn’t been to a boxing club before.
It would be a first for both of them. Certainly, he’d witnessed competitions of strength and honor during his travels, but never had he entered a proper establishment meant solely for physical exertion as opposed to righting a wrong or returning honor.
With her note in hand, Eli summoned his carriage and arrived to collect her from Craven House—a rather sprawling townhouse on the edge of Mayfair.
The residence was on the fringe of propriety: two blocks in either direction would place the home in an elite area or a section bombarded by growing poverty and hard financial straits.
Its immaculate landscaping and fresh paint told Elijah that Sam and her family took pride in their home.
A sign hung proudly, displaying the manor’s name: Craven House.
Mathers quickly opened the carriage door and set down the steps for Eli to depart. “May I knock to announce your arrival, my lord?”
Eli feared he’d never gain a familiarity with Mathers addressing him so formally.
He and the servant were of a similar age and had grown up as friends.
His valet—and sometimes carriage driver, footman, and confidant—had been the grandson of the late marquis’ own valet.
It was only natural Mathers serve the Ridgefeld family as his family had before.
“No, thank you,” Eli said, hopping down from his carriage with more gusto than the moment called for. “I can collect Miss Samantha.”
With heavy steps, he made his way up the drive, uncertain what Sam had told her siblings about their outing.
Lying was not an option for Eli, as he knew deception never favored a man.
And he wanted nothing more than to make a notable impression on Sam’s family.
Over the coming days—and possibly weeks—he would do all in his power to court her properly…
maybe a proposal of marriage even awaited them.
However, that would be impossible if he lied and her family ever learned of it.
A bolt of dark green moved behind the hedge at the side of the townhouse, catching Eli’s attention and bringing him up short before he took the final steps to knock at the front entrance.
The figure had moved far too quickly to be a servant at work on his chores.
He scanned the place where he’d seen the movement but saw nothing but well-trimmed, square shrubbery.
“Lord Ridgefeld!” Eli spun back toward his waiting carriage where Mathers stood, slack-jawed, and staring at Sam. “I see you received my letter. I was uncertain you’d be at the museum to receive my note.”
Two things were clear. Firstly, Sam did not trust him to keep his side of their bargain. And secondly, she had no intention of telling her family where they were headed, that she was with him, or that they did not have a proper chaperone.
“I gave my word and will uphold it.” Eli retraced his steps toward the carriage. “I thought I would speak with your family.”
Clutching a large bag tightly to her chest, she glanced over his shoulder and then back at him.
“They are out for the afternoon, my lord. If you had arrived only ten minutes ago, you would have caught them before they departed for Hyde Park.” He raised a brow as a serene smile spread across her face. “Shall we?”
Mathers stepped forward and offered his hand to assist her into the carriage.
Eli frowned. Since when did his servants take orders from others?
“Where to, my lord?”
“Gentleman Jackson’s.” Eli regained his side in the carriage, sitting across from Sam, who still clung to the duffle she held, certainly a bag too bulky for their afternoon plans. “It is good to see you again, Miss Samantha.”
“And you, Elijah.” The breathy way his name left her lips sent his pulse racing. “Thank you for accompanying me on this outing.”
She said the words like he’d had a choice in the matter—besides breaking his promise to her.