Chapter Nine
With a heavy sigh, Samantha leaned against her balcony railing and stared at the river glistening through the trees.
She ignored the glint of sunlight reflecting from the compass sitting next to her hand.
Since she’d returned, the house had been quiet.
Dead quiet. Which meant Griff had told Uncle Henry everything.
It would be a miracle if he didn’t march over and murder Lieutenant Thompson outright. Her gaze drifted to the east, where Christian’s property lay. Only a few pastures and groves of trees separated them. At the thought of his name, her stomach did a little flip.
How long?
How long would she react like this? Her hand rose to her face and she let her fingertips linger on her lips. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Christian. Christian with his mouth against hers. Christian as he took her to heights she hadn’t known existed. And Christian when he held her close.
Held her like she mattered.
“Samantha?”
She jerked away from the warm stone and spun to face her maid.
“Are you alright? You’ve been standing there for hours.”
Samantha nodded and Anna tsked. “Come inside before you get a sunburn.”
“The sun is setting. I think we are well past the risk.”
The maid crossed her arms. “No matter. Mr. Warstein has asked you to join him for dinner.”
Samantha’s heart constricted. “I’d rather not.”
Anna looked at her for a long moment and Samantha nibbled on her lip. Had the servants heard what had happened already? Heat pricked along her cheeks.
“He said you might say that.” Anna crossed the room and opened the wardrobe. After pulling a pale blue dress out, she held it up. “He told me to tell you that if you won’t come down, he’ll take dinner in here.”
Of course he would. Captain Remington never failed to get his way. Samantha grabbed the compass and ducked into the shadowed room. She set it on the mantel and went to her vanity. In a few short minutes, Anna had her stripped of her day dress and began dressing her.
While the maid pinned her hair up, Samantha stared at her reflection in stoic silence. Her heart pounded an erratic beat in her chest. How was she supposed to face Uncle Henry? Beads of perspiration already dotted her forehead and she wiped the back of her hand across the damp skin there.
Anna took out one of Samantha’s mother’s old necklaces and clasped it around Samantha’s throat. She lifted her hand and gripped the cameo. You can do this.
“Thank you.” Biting her lip, she pushed her chair back and left the room.
At the top of the staircase, she took a shaky breath. What was the worst he could do? It wasn’t like he’d turn her out in the street. She started down.
What if he revealed her identity to the lieutenant? He could demand they marry. Her next step faltered and she had to catch herself on the railing. He wouldn’t. It would be too risky for his own cover.
When her feet settled onto the marble floor, Samantha hesitated once more.
The double doors to the dining room stood between her and her judgment.
She cast a longing look over her shoulder at the open doors leading to the veranda.
If she ran, she could be hidden in the garden before anyone knew she was missing.
She pulled her shoulders back. What a ridiculous thought. If she escaped the conversation tonight, he would find her tomorrow. And would be even more upset. She couldn’t avoid him forever.
So she strode forward and pushed the doors open.
Uncle Henry sat at the head of the table, studying a chart. He didn’t look up when she entered. A place had been set two seats away from him and she clenched her teeth together. Why so close?
With slow steps, she made her way to him. A footman materialized to pull out her chair and she sat. Still, her uncle did not look up.
She folded her hands on her lap and studied the gilded edge of her plate. The heavy silence hanging over them gnawed at the ragged edges of her anxiety. When her uncle flipped the parchment, the crisp sound echoed through the room. Swallowing, Samantha lifted her head. He stared right at her.
Still, he remained silent.
He was waiting for her.
Samantha’s fingers twisted together and every rehearsed excuse she had thought of left her mind.
“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. “I made a terrible mistake.”
His eyes had gone an icy blue. “No. I made the mistake.”
He leaned back as her skin went clammy at the ominous tone in his voice. “I made a mistake in thinking I was doing a favor by letting you sail. I thought I was giving you choices. I was wrong.”
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and she shook her head.
“The sea is no place for a woman.” She pressed her eyes shut as he repeated the very thing Griff had told her. “No good can ever come of it. And I was a fool for not realizing it.”
He shifted in his seat. “Your father indulged your mother and she paid for it with her life.”
She sucked in a breath at the harsh words.
“If he hadn’t allowed it, she would still be here with you. You wouldn’t have grown up motherless.”
A drop of wetness landed on her forearm.
“And if I hadn’t allowed you to do the same thing, you wouldn’t be sitting here ruined.”
An ache crept up the back of her throat as she searched for and failed to find words.
“You’re grounded, Samantha. For good.”
Her eyes snapped open. “Please, anything but that.”
“You’ll begin to act like a proper young lady. No more swordsmanship. No more visits to the docks. No more breeches.”
A crushing weight pressed on her chest and she struggled to take a breath.
“I could say I’m angry. Hurt. Ashamed. And all would be correct. But most of all, I’m disappointed. You betrayed the trust I gave you, Samantha. And by doing so, you’ll learn the hardest lesson of them all. Once a captain cannot be trusted, he will never be able to lead again.”
Tears began to stream down her face in earnest, leaving hot trails in their wake. “Uncle—”
“My mind is made up. Do not try to sway my decision.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “You’re dismissed.”
And just like that, all her hopes, all her dreams—everything Samantha had ever wanted in life—were crushed like a brittle shell beneath the heel. Choking back a sob, she stumbled to her feet and fled the room.
She passed the stairs and burst onto the veranda. Without slowing, she stumbled down the steps and raced across the gardens. Under the big oak tree, she collapsed to the ground and let her grief overtake her.
The minutes stretched by and soon dark shadows cloaked her as the sun slipped from view.
Samantha pulled herself from the damp ground and brushed bits of twigs and grass from her dress.
She drew her knees to her chest and stared out toward the river, where the pale sails of a ship stood out against the darkness.
Lights from town twinkled over the water. If only she could tell Abigail what had happened. But she couldn’t. Abigail couldn’t know. Nobody could. She was alone in her despair.
A vast ache settled in her heart and she gave a bitter sniff. So many if onlys.
If only she hadn’t come up with her mad scheme to get the lieutenant off her back. If only she hadn’t accepted his terms. If only she hadn’t . . . no. Another fat tear plopped to the ground and she curled her fingers into fists. She would not regret that part. No matter what.
Her legs began to go numb and she stood. A dull pressure built behind her temple and she pressed her fingers to the sensitive spot. When a mosquito landed on her arm, she swatted it away. Soon the little beasts would be out in full force.
With a sigh, she headed back toward the house. No need to stay outside and get eaten alive. The servants had lit lanterns along the veranda and when she got a good view of her rumpled skirts, a chagrined smile tugged at her lips. Anna would have a fit.
Inside, candlelight flickered from the sconces on the walls.
Samantha crept up the stairs, careful to skip the ones that creaked, and padded down the hallway.
Slipping inside her room, she crossed to the mantel and grabbed the compass.
Once her hand curled around the cool weight of it, she sat on the bed.
The inscription glowed in the light of the single candle Anna had left lit on the nightstand and Samantha ran a fingertip over the etched words.
Who had it belonged to? She knew very little about Lieutenant Thompson’s past other than what he’d revealed about his mother.
Perhaps a great-great-grandfather had served in the Royal Navy and passed the relic down through the generations.
Christian’s father likely gave it to him. A gift when he joined the navy?
A prick of guilt pressed through her heart and she touched the cameo at her neck. What if it had been something of her mother’s or father’s that had been taken? She’d be devastated.
Standing, she crossed to the door of her balcony and stared out into the darkness. Mottled light cut through the shadows from the full moon above. The weight in her hand seemed to grow heavier by the moment. She needed to return it.
A soft knock sounded at her door and Anna peeked in. “Do you need help getting ready for bed?”
Samantha tensed at the intrusion and turned back to the night. “I’ll be fine.”
The door clicked shut and she blew out a breath. Her grip around the compass tightened. Tonight. She would return the blasted thing tonight.
Mind made up, she strode to her wardrobe and yanked open her breeches drawer.
Empty. With a curse she opened the rest of her drawers and rocked back on her heels.
Every bit of masculine clothing she owned was gone.
Her boots had been replaced with dainty shoes and pale gloves and stockings had replaced her buttoned shirts.
Her uncle was serious.
The thought sobered her and she stood. Somehow, she would have to convince him he’d made an error. She would work hard to prove to him she’d learned her lesson. But how long would it take?