his brother, always angry with him; Claudette, the beautiful woman who had come between them and altered their futures; and a host of past thoughts and feelings that merged together to interfere with peaceful slumber. And thenthere was his brotherâs new wife, invariably in the background, sliding into every scene of remembrance to annoy and provoke him with her stunning image, her haughty smile and determined mind full of mischief, enticing him by her mere suddenâand completely undesiredâexistence.
Two weeks ago, Sam recalled, he had been bored; bored with his tedious work at the estate; bored with the ladies he knew who encircled him, or more accurately his title and wealth, like vultures in waiting; bored with what had become an otherwise mundane life. Now, of course, heâd moved beyond boredom to a whole new realm of irritation, to reservation regarding his immediate future, to a measured restlessness, and yes, a seemingly endless state of physical arousal.
Sam groaned and turned onto his side, staring at filtered streetlight that spotted the darkened wall of the small guest bedroom. Her well-maintained and expensive apartments lay in the bustling business district, though in a respectful and clean part of town, heâd noticed. He didnât particularly enjoy the noise and quickpaced dirtiness of the cityâany cityâand he certainly wasnât pleased to be in this one. Although sheâd decorated her home in lovely fashion, he supposed, all pastels and flowers that resembled the particular style of the day, he refused to consider becoming comfortable here.
But here wasnât the problem. She was.
For the first time in his life he felt totally perplexed by a woman. He didnât know what to think of her, how to interpret her moods and objectives, how much to trust her decisions, actions, and words. Because of his uncharacteristic lack of knowledge where she was concerned, he didnât act when he was with her, he re acted, and that, heâd realized over the course of the evening, could not only be a mistake but a danger to their still proper relationship. Normally, Sam considered himself a cool and even-tempered individual, controlled and self-possessed almost to a fault. But somehow, in only a few short days together, the Lady Olivia seemed to bring out the strangest responses in him, though he was, gratefully, fairly able to hide the affects. Or at least he thought so.
She vexed him with her feisty attitude; she made him want to shake her to rid her of the streak of defiant determination she possessed. And embarrassingly enough, the simple notion that such a beautiful creature married his brother made him inexplicably mad. Just mad. The most vivid memory of his childhood remained the fact that Edmund always seemed to win, in every competition in which they were both engaged. Sam rationally knew that many of his brotherâs achievements over his were related to the duty that came with his title, and that all of his memories were tempered by age and immaturity. Still, he wasnât allowed to roam free of responsibility, and never had been; Edmund not only had the opportunity, he took it with pleasure, and always had. In a manner, Sam supposed he was envious. He had obligations where Edmund had money, time, and choices. He would be required to marry a suitable woman regardless of her looks and intelligence, where Edmund could marry as he wished. Sam realized then that the old streak of jealousy toward his brother had returned in full force to slap him in the face. Not only had Edmund married a smart, remarkablybeautiful woman, he had married very, very well. The Lady Olivia Shea, daughter of the late Earl of Elmsboro, had been an excellent catch.
But were they married? It would be the last great mystery until they found his brother and learned the truth of the manâs deception. The only thing Sam was sure about was that Olivia truly thought they were. After spending
Two weeks ago, Sam recalled, he had been bored; bored with his tedious work at the estate; bored with the ladies he knew who encircled him, or more accurately his title and wealth, like vultures in waiting; bored with what had become an otherwise mundane life. Now, of course, heâd moved beyond boredom to a whole new realm of irritation, to reservation regarding his immediate future, to a measured restlessness, and yes, a seemingly endless state of physical arousal.
Sam groaned and turned onto his side, staring at filtered streetlight that spotted the darkened wall of the small guest bedroom. Her well-maintained and expensive apartments lay in the bustling business district, though in a respectful and clean part of town, heâd noticed. He didnât particularly enjoy the noise and quickpaced dirtiness of the cityâany cityâand he certainly wasnât pleased to be in this one. Although sheâd decorated her home in lovely fashion, he supposed, all pastels and flowers that resembled the particular style of the day, he refused to consider becoming comfortable here.
But here wasnât the problem. She was.
For the first time in his life he felt totally perplexed by a woman. He didnât know what to think of her, how to interpret her moods and objectives, how much to trust her decisions, actions, and words. Because of his uncharacteristic lack of knowledge where she was concerned, he didnât act when he was with her, he re acted, and that, heâd realized over the course of the evening, could not only be a mistake but a danger to their still proper relationship. Normally, Sam considered himself a cool and even-tempered individual, controlled and self-possessed almost to a fault. But somehow, in only a few short days together, the Lady Olivia seemed to bring out the strangest responses in him, though he was, gratefully, fairly able to hide the affects. Or at least he thought so.
She vexed him with her feisty attitude; she made him want to shake her to rid her of the streak of defiant determination she possessed. And embarrassingly enough, the simple notion that such a beautiful creature married his brother made him inexplicably mad. Just mad. The most vivid memory of his childhood remained the fact that Edmund always seemed to win, in every competition in which they were both engaged. Sam rationally knew that many of his brotherâs achievements over his were related to the duty that came with his title, and that all of his memories were tempered by age and immaturity. Still, he wasnât allowed to roam free of responsibility, and never had been; Edmund not only had the opportunity, he took it with pleasure, and always had. In a manner, Sam supposed he was envious. He had obligations where Edmund had money, time, and choices. He would be required to marry a suitable woman regardless of her looks and intelligence, where Edmund could marry as he wished. Sam realized then that the old streak of jealousy toward his brother had returned in full force to slap him in the face. Not only had Edmund married a smart, remarkablybeautiful woman, he had married very, very well. The Lady Olivia Shea, daughter of the late Earl of Elmsboro, had been an excellent catch.
But were they married? It would be the last great mystery until they found his brother and learned the truth of the manâs deception. The only thing Sam was sure about was that Olivia truly thought they were. After spending
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