Because of You (23 page)

“Sick?” Wayland echoed. “Sick with what?”

“Well, yes, of course I can try,” Samantha said, slightly disconcerted by the swift change of events.

Wayland stepped forward. “Absolutely not! You can’t mean to let those filthy children stay here in this house—especially
sick
children. Have you gone mad? They are a danger to my sons.”

“I could not leave them on the street,” Yale said.

“Oh, but Yale—” Marion started, and then broke off. She motioned to Emily. “Go and make sure Nurse doesn’t let the boys out of the nursery. Hurry, now!”

The maid ran to do her bidding while Wayland exploded in anger.

“I can’t believe you did this, Yale. Have you
no
common sense? And just when I believed you had changed, you pull a trick like this! Where in the name of all that is holy did you find them?”

Yale leaned against the bedpost, the set of his chin stubborn. “I caught the lad picking my pocket.”

“Pickpockets!” Wayland’s face flushed with outrage. His mouth opened and closed as if
words had failed him. He whirled on the footman. “Bates, throw this riffraff out!”

The younger child, the girl, gave a soft cry of distress. The boy put his arms around her.

But as the footman moved forward, Yale stepped protectively in front of the children. “You will not touch them.”

B
ates stopped and glanced with uncertainty at the duke. Samantha held her breath.

“They are my guests,” Yale said to his brother. “If they can’t stay, then I will leave with them.”

“Oh, God,” Wayland swore. He motioned Bates out of the room. The moment the door closed, he exploded. “I thought you’d changed! I was beginning to believe you had more sense than all this. Worse, you are putting me in an untenable position. I cannot have—” he waved his hands at the two grubby children as if words failed him, “
people like them
under my roof. It’s unheard of.”

“Wayland, stop being so dramatic,” Yale snapped. “They’re children. Nothing more, nothing less. They have no parents or home. You’d be grubby, too, if you’d been forced to live the life they have.”

“
You
are the one who doesn’t understand. Don’t you remember anything that happened
years ago? Society has all but forgotten who you are and the details of your disgrace—but not for long, once they catch wind of this. What you are doing is unheard of.”

“What rot,” Yale said. “I’m my own man. I’ll do what I wish. If I choose to nursemaid a multitude of children, I will.”

“Yes? Well, what of Samantha? No one does this sort of thing. You will draw attention to yourself. It will remind people of the scandal.”

“Oh, yes, what a frightening black sheep I must be. Taking in sick children. What will I do next?” Yale mocked his brother.

“Damn you, Yale, you understand exactly what I mean.”

“I do, brother. You mean that I’m welcome as long as I obey your rules. You are the twin of our father.”

“Yes? Well, now I’m beginning to understand a little of his side of the story!”

Samantha stepped between the two men. “Please, both of you. If you wish to argue, take it to another room. These children are innocents and you are frightening them.”

At her words, the men looked down at the children. The girl sobbed in earnest. Samantha dropped to her knees and placed a hand on the girl’s head. She had a slight fever and her chest was congested, but that was all. Still, Yale had been right to bring the child in from the cold. A small fever could rapidly develop into something life threatening.

Marion squeezed her husband’s arm. “Wayland, perhaps you
are
overreacting a small bit.”

He frowned his answer at his wife, then turned abruptly and stomped to the door. “Keep your brats away from me and my children. As soon as they are well enough, I want them out of this house.” He placed a hand on the door handle. “Oh, yes, Marion and I have decided the best way to reintroduce the two of you into society is to start with a small dinner for only the members of the family this evening. She is having the invitations sent out. Next week we’ll stage a ball in your honor.”

“Killing the fatted calf?” Yale murmured.

Wayland’s eyes narrowed. “I advise you to pay a visit to your tailor.”

Yale bowed, the gesture polite—and mocking. “I do not want a ball. As for this evening, you may introduce Samantha. My family and Society turned their backs on me years ago and I’ll be damned if I perform in front of any of them like a trained bear.”

Wayland jerked open the handle of the door. “Defiant to the end, aren’t you? Come, Marion.” Without another word, he left the room.

However, Marion lingered behind.

“I will order beds made available for the children in the servants’ quarters. Samantha, tell Fenley what you need in the way of effecting a cure for this girl and he will see your wishes are carried out. Oh, yes,” she said, pausing in the doorway. “I have asked the dressmaker to visit
this afternoon. If she doesn’t have anything suitable for this evening, then perhaps we can find something from my closet that you may wear.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Samantha said, the sentiment heartfelt.

Marion smiled and then glanced up at Yale. “He really is glad to have you home.” She left the room.

Yale and Samantha were left alone with two very frightened children. The girl was shivering.

“Come now,” Samantha said in a soothing voice. “Everything will be fine. What is your name?”

“Her name is Alice,” the boy answered.

“And this is her brother, Terrance,” Yale said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He seemed remarkably unconcerned after having had such a serious argument with his brother.

“Well, Alice,” Samantha said, “there is no reason to be afraid. The duke and duchess are going to see that you have plenty of food and a warm bed.” She looked at Terrance. “Did you really attempt to pick my lord’s pocket?” He seemed so young for a criminal act.

“It was the only way he could feed his sister,” Yale said, defending the boy.

But someone had taught Terrance pride. He answered Samantha honestly. “Yes, my lady, I did.”

“And you know what you did was wrong?” She ignored Yale’s muttered “Jesus.” She’d talk to him about using the Lord’s name in vain later.

“Yes, my lady, I did, and I won’t do it again. Unless…”

“Unless what?” Samantha asked.

“Unless I have to feed my sister.”

Samantha placed a hand against the boy’s cheek. “I understand. Now, let us see what we can do to make her well.” She came to her feet and crossed to where her medicinal basket set next to the heavy wardrobe. Digging into it, she pulled out the cloth bag of feverfew and the makings of a poultice for the girl’s chest.

She rang for Fenley, who arrived promptly. “Fenley, this is Terrance and his sister Alice. Children, this is Mr. Fenley. He will take the two of you to good, clean beds and see that a tea is made of this herb. Alice must drink all of it. After I have dressed, I will prepare a poultice for her chest. Terrance, it will be your responsibility to see that Alice does as I ask.”

“I will, my lady,” he vowed earnestly.

Samantha smiled in approval before saying, “Fenley, these children are both frightfully dirty. I’m a firm believer in cleanliness. Please bathe them.”

The children gasped in surprise.

“I am not going to bathe,” Terrance said stoutly.

“You will if you stay here,” Yale answered.

“Then I do not have a choice,” the boy said morosely. “I can’t leave without my sister.” He looked so miserable, Samantha couldn’t help but laugh.

“Go with Fenley,” she told him.

“I’ll take the little one,” Yale volunteered gallantly, and lifted Alice up into his arms.

As Samantha watched them leave, she realized Terrance and his sister trusted Yale implicitly—and he had not let them down. He would have left the house rather than bend to his brother’s suggestion of throwing the children back into the street.

Her wedding gown still hung on a peg. She started to dress.

She was brushing her hair when Yale pushed open the door of her room leading to the sitting room. He leaned against the door frame.

He crossed his arms. “So, do you agree with my brother that I’m mad to have brought these children here?”

Samantha paused, the brush poised in the air. She lowered it before asking, “Does it matter what I think?”

He made an irritated sound. “Yes, of course.”

She answered honestly. “The girl truly is sick. She needed shelter. However, it is Wayland’s home, and he is thinking of his own children. He doesn’t know what disease Alice suffered from, and all diseases spread so quickly. I lost the Ryman baby to what I’d thought was a simple cold in less time than it took to bring him into this world. You may have jeopardized your nephews’ lives. Furthermore, telling Wayland that the lad was a pickpocket was not the way to make him feel charitable toward the child.” She drew
a deep breath for courage and said, “But I think you knew that when you said it.”

Yale’s eyes blazed with anger. “I didn’t give him one thought.” He shoved away from the door. “I should have known better. You’re like my family. All of them put the worst interpretation on anything I do.” He left the room.

Samantha stared after him. Where had such a hot-headed outburst come from?

It dawned on her that since they’d left Sproule, he’d been playing little games with her, and suddenly she’d had enough. She wasn’t one to hold back her opinion when asked—and if he didn’t like it, he shouldn’t bother asking. She marched out into the sitting room and walked straight to his bedroom door.

She didn’t bother to knock because he probably wouldn’t answer if she did. No, she just barged right in and caught him half-naked, his shirt in his hands. The valet was busy pouring water into a basin. Samantha’s arrival so startled him, he overflowed the basin.

He hurried to wipe up the mess, but Samantha had no patience. “Out,” she ordered.

The man scurried out of the room.

Yale blinked in surprise. “Samantha?”

“Yes, it is I,” she answered tightly. “And I have a few things I want to say to you.”

He started to open his mouth, but she held up her hand to stave him off.

“I have just spent the morning entertaining everyone in the house in my nightdress. I have
found myself placed in the unenviable position of being between two brothers who can’t seem to sit and talk civilly for five minutes and iron out their differences—”

“It’s more than that. We have years of differences!”

“I do not care,” she responded, effectively shutting him up. “But the next time you ask my opinion, you will stay and listen to what I have to say, or don’t bother to ask it at all. Am I clear?”

“Sam—”

“Next!” It felt good to argue with him, to push aside her uneasy emotions. “I think your brother is a bit overbearing, but I also I believe you bait him. Why did you bring those children here?”

“Because they were sick.”

“And perhaps because you knew it was something your brother wouldn’t like?” she questioned him suspiciously.

“I didn’t even think of him.”

“But you should have, Yale. It is his house, and whereas I don’t want those poor souls out in the freezing cold, you knew it would upset him. Just as you’ve known what would upset me.”

“That’s not true!”

“It isn’t?

He spread his hands. “What have I done wrong?”

“Oh, let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”
She ticked off on her fingers her counts against him. “You’ve lied to me—”

“I explained that!”

“You married me under a false name—”

“That’s the same as lying to you. They were both the same incident, Sam, you can’t count them twice.”

“You
bedded
me,” she said, as if he’d triggered her memory. “And then told me you were going to
leave
me.”

He threw his shirt down on the chair. “Unfair, Sam. I always intended to take care of you.”

She ignored his protests. “Then you dragged me to London and your family, and you won’t even be here for dinner this evening when I have to meet them all.”

“What?” He made a face. “What are you talking about? Are you saying you are in this pet because I’m not going to be there for dinner this evening?”

“Pet? Is that what you think I am in?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you’re wrong! I’m angry!”

“Samantha, I don’t understand you. When I want to be by your side in bed, you toss me onto the floor—”

“What does our argument have to do with bed?” she ground out.

“—Then, my brother snaps his fingers and you are naked in my room—”

“Yale, that was a mistake.” Samantha imme
diately regretted pressing her complaints. “I shouldn’t have—”

“
You’re right
you shouldn’t have. Then you side with my brother over Terrance and Alice.”

“I’m
not
siding with him.”

“You aren’t?” he said in patent disbelief. He placed his hands on his waist. “Then why am I receiving this lecture? One of many I’ve had to bear over the past few days.”

She made an exasperated sound. “I said you were right.”

“Yes, and then accused me of doing it to annoy my brother.”

“What I was saying is that you did the right thing, Yale, but for the wrong reasons.”

“The wrong reasons! God in heaven, woman, you could drive a saint to madness.”

“I wish you would not take the Lord’s name in vain,” she said self-righteously.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he answered. “It’s not enough that I perform a charitable act, I must do it for the right reason! Is that not truly insane? No ‘Thank you, Yale,’ or, ‘That was well done,’” he mimicked in a falsetto voice. “Instead, my motives are suspect. My brother is ready to throw those children out into the street, and you think I should be more understanding!”

“You don’t understand what I’m trying to say—”

“Yes, I do!” He walked up to Samantha and bent down until he looked her straight in the
eye. “But do you know what really makes me furious?”

“No, what?”

“The fact that I could kiss you right now! You’d probably hiss and spit at me like an angry kitten, but it might be worth the trouble.”