Love Plays a Part (21 page)

“But milord -” Samantha began.

“Be still,” he commanded. “I ask nothing in return for this.” He smiled sardonically. “As protection of what I hope may one day be mine, it is the purest speculation on my part. Nevertheless, I intend that the carriage shall be there every night and, if you do not choose to ride in it, it will follow till you are safely home.”

“Milord.” Samantha did not quite know how to reply to this. “I - I -”

“You may thank me without doing any serious damage to your principles,” he said with that charming, boyish grin.

“Thank you.” Again she endeavored to extricate herself from his arms, but he refused to release her.

“You are quite comfortable as you are,” he said softly. “My footmen have revived your man. They should have him settled on the seat fairly soon.”

Samantha did not know how to reply to this. The events of the past hour had so shaken her that she could not think properly. Also, the physical closeness of his lordship was most disconcerting to her.

“Please, milord,” she said. “Please allow me to sit up on the seat.”

The earl eyed her critically. “Are you quite sure you are recovered?”

“Yes, milord.”

He considered a moment longer. “Very well, then. But you must be careful.”

“I shall.” He allowed her to rise and helped her to the seat beside him. He had just settled her properly when there came a sharp knock on the door.

“Yes?” said his lordship.

The door opened. “He’s a bit groggy, milord, but otherwise he’s all right.”

“Very well. Let’s get on then.”

“Yes, milord.” The door closed, and in a moment the carriage began to move.

“Milord,” Samantha began.

He covered her hand with his gloved one. She could feel the heat of it through the fabric. “Do not fuss yourself. We are simply taking you home properly. I should never be able to rest easy if I did not see you safely home.”

“You are most kind,” said Samantha. Now that the earl was not holding her, she found it a little easier to breathe. “But surely that is unnecessary. The villains are long gone.”

The earl scowled. “I find it quite necessary, particularly since the villains, not having accomplished their ends, cannot expect to collect payment.”

Samantha sighed. “Very well, milord.”

It took only a matter of moments for the carriage to cover the remaining distance to the house. When it stopped, his lordship descended and offered her his hand. She took it gratefully, her knees still a trifle shaky from her ordeal. But when she reached the pavement, he swung her up into his arms. She protested immediately. “Milord! This is unseemly.”

“Nonsense,” he replied. “You have been through a harrowing experience, and I have rescued you.” In the dim light of the streetlights she saw his black eyes glitter. “After all, rescuers are entitled to some reward and, since you refuse me the traditional one, the least you can do is let me carry you in.”

Samantha found this logic strangely perverted, but she was powerless to refute it. The truth of the matter was that she had just discovered how much she enjoyed being carried in his lordship’s arms and she was rather dismayed by the knowledge.

She saw several men helping Jake into the house. Then his lordship followed, still carrying her. “You may set me down now,” she said as they reached the inside hall.

But he ignored that to ask, “Where are your rooms?”

“Up the stairs, milord,” said Jake. “And thank you.” He put a hand to his head. “Them devils was just too much for me. It’s grateful I am for your help.”

“You’re quite welcome,” said his lordship in such a kindly tone that Samantha felt surprise. Then he continued up the stairs, carrying her as though her weight meant nothing to him.

“Really, milord. This is so unnecessary.”

“I shall make that decision,” he said sternly.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Hester stood waiting. She seemed about to say something, but then, taking a look at his lordship’s face, remained prudently silent.

“Which way to her room?” demanded his lordship in a tone that brooked no disobedience.

Hester nodded meekly and pointed the way. Samantha could not forbear smiling at seeing the usually assertive Hester taking orders so quietly.

The earl carried her through the doorway and deposited her gently on the bed. For a long moment he stood looking down at her, his dark eyes unfathomable. As he continued to gaze into her eyes, Samantha felt her face grow warm; there was something so private, so intimate about his look that she felt very naked and vulnerable before it. While she watched in a kind of dazed fascination, his head drew closer and closer, and then he dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. He straightened and smiled strangely. “Sleep well, Samantha. I shall see you soon.” He was gone.

She lay quite still, listening to the earl’s footsteps receding down the stairs. She seemed to be floating in a kind of warm cloud, her body still retaining the comfortable feel of being cradled in his arms.

Hester poked a curious face through the bed  curtains. “Well, don’t just lay there with that stupid look on yer face. Tell me what’s been going on.”

Samantha sat up. “It was terrible, Hester, just terrible. Three ruffians burst on us as we were coming home. They knocked Jake down. He’s all right,” she added as Hester made an involuntary move toward the door. “The earl and his men rescued us.” She shuddered. “They were dragging me away - the bullies. And he stopped them. He insisted on bringing me home.”

Hester nodded. “This is Roxbury. I remember him. Jake told me he’s been hanging about. I suppose you’re going say you ain’t got no interest in him at all.”

Samantha flushed. “Not in that way.”

Hester snorted. “His lordship must be thinking different. He wouldn’t be wasting all that time otherwise.”

“Oh, Hester. I’ve told him and told him.” Samantha did not wish to tell her friend and servant that she really did not want his lordship to desist from his efforts. She did not intend to give in to him, of course. She simply did not want to lose his company.

Hester snorted again. “You ain’t fooling me none, Samantha Everett. I seen the look on your face.”

“What look? Hester, you are imagining things.” Samantha felt her heart begin to pound.

“Huh! I bet it were his lordship’s carriage that was following you every night. Weren’t it?”

Samantha nodded. “How did you know about that?”

“Jake told me,” Hester replied. “But we didn’t suspect it were the earl’s.”

“Hester,” said Samantha in as firm a tone as she could manage, “you are making more out of this than you should.”

Hester just shook her head. “I know what I’m about, Miss Samantha. I ain’t been living all these years for nothing. Yes, sir.” She rolled her eyes expressively. “He’s a real looker, that ‘un. And he’s got the power.” Her thin lips curved in a small smile. “I seen them eyes. Them eyes as’ll capture any woman’s heart. Now if you was just living proper, as a lady of quality ‘n’ all, you’d be in a fair way to get a proposal out of him.”

“Hester!” Samantha jumped from the bed. “This is the man we saw at the inn. In the first place, if I were moving about in the
ton,
he would likely never have noticed me! And in the second place, Roxbury is not a marrying man. Why, why, just this evening he boasted to me of the large number of women whom he had kissed! He said there were more of them waiting than he can accommodate!”

Hester’s smile broadened. “And probably so. He’s a real man, that earl. A prime article. What you want? Some little lordling still in leading strings?”

“Of course not,” Samantha began, but she was cut off by Hester.

“Then be glad you got a man like that dangling after you.”

“But, Hester, he doesn’t want to marry me!” Her words were useless, however. Hester was already gone, presumably on her way to see to Jake’s injuries. With an exasperated sigh Samantha began to pull off her gown. Her mind was a mass of chaotic feeling. To have the earl rescue her like that, to be held so long in his arms - undoubtedly she was beginning to form a partiality for the man. And it simply must be stopped. For what she had cried out after Hester was quite true. Roxbury obviously had no intention of marrying anyone, least of all a simple country seamstress who worked backstage at Drury Lane. A man like Roxbury, a man of the first stare of fashion, would marry only a lady of quality, one with a beautiful form
and
a large dowry, she thought bitterly.

With a cry of frustration she yanked her nightdress on over her head and threw herself angrily between the curtains of the bed - where she lay for long hours chasing the chimera of her thoughts, until finally exhaustion overcame her and she slept.

Chapter 12

The next day the earl did not appear at the theatre. Samantha went about her duties automatically, but her mind was elsewhere. Every unusual sound caused her to look up with a start and, when it was time for the performance to begin, she could not refrain from peeking through the curtain at the box where the earl sat. But it remained empty throughout the whole evening.

Samantha was again washed with waves of uncertainty, not knowing whether she felt relief or disappointment. But he had said that he would see her soon. He had said that very clearly, she reminded herself as she met Jake and they stepped out into the night air. And there, waiting in the shadows, stood the earl’s carriage. A strange warm feeling swept over her at the sight of it. So he
had
meant what he said. And tomorrow night, Saturday, Kean would do the first Macbeth of the season. Surely Roxbury would be present for that. Maybe he would come backstage, at least to see how she was faring after the attack.

In spite of the dark and the cold, Samantha felt safe and warm. The knowledge that the earl had sent his carriage made her feel very good. She had decided, however, not to ride in it. To do so might well give the earl the idea that he was succeeding with her. And of course he was not. Also, if she rode in the carriage when he was not there, she could hardly refuse to do so when he was.

She passed a rather sleepless night and arrived at the theatre in a very restless mood. To her surprise Maria was not in the work room. Nor did she arrive as the day wore on. Finally a worried Samantha asked one of the dressers, “Have you seen Maria? She hasn’t come in today.”

The dresser shrugged. “She’s probably taken a chill. She’s old, you know.”

Samantha nodded and went on about her duties. By now she knew enough to do whatever needed doing. The thought that Maria might be ill preyed on her mind, but she finally convinced herself that she would be back on Monday.

This performance of Macbeth was to have new music by Matthew Locke, and the scenery had been in preparation all summer. Kean himself had supervised the production of it. Samantha had already been struck by its grandness. She really looked forward to the evening’s performance. She tried, more than once, to convince herself that the whole of her anticipation was due to Kean’s performance, but a small voice that would not be stilled kept insisting that she wanted to see the earl. In the wings she was safe; she could enjoy his companionship and conversation, conversation which anyone would have to admit was very enlightening.

So as she took up her station in the wings, she wiped her hands nervously on the skirt of her gown. Mrs. Bartley, who was playing Lady Macbeth, passed and nodded. Samantha nodded in return. Then she settled herself in her usual place. She absolutely refused to peek out at his lordship’s box. If he arrived backstage, she would be pleased to have his comments on the play. If he did not, she would enjoy it without him. There was no more to it than that.

Still, she could not keep her eyes from searching for a tall, lean form. She had just forced her face back toward the stage when a strange prickling along her spine made her shiver. Could it have been caused by his lordship coming backstage? She tried to keep herself from turning to look for him, but some strange power seemed to force her head around. There he stood, some paces away, his dark eyes regarding her keenly. She fought to keep the wild joy that swept over her from showing on her face. He stood looking at her for what seemed a long, long time. Her heart pounded in her throat as she struggled to her feet.

Slowly the earl moved toward her, and she willed herself to stand still. She would not let him see how his presence affected her. “Good evening, Miss Everett,” he said softly.

“Good evening, milord.” She managed to get the words out past a suddenly dry tongue.

“I trust that you have recovered from the other night,” he said gravely.

Samantha nodded. “Yes, milord. You - you were very kind.”

The earl sighed. “My men tell me that you did not use the carriage last night.”

Samantha’s hands moved nervously. “Yes, milord, I did not. But -” Truthfulness drove her on. “But I felt much safer knowing that it was there. Thank you.” She felt much relieved at having done the proper thing and thanked him.

His lordship smiled slightly. “I appreciate your thanks. Please be assured that the carriage will be there every evening.”

“Thank you, milord.”

He nodded and took a step away as though to leave her.

“Milord?” Samantha spoke hurriedly.

“Yes, Miss Everett?” He eyed her with grave formality.

“Could you - That is, Kean is doing Macbeth tonight. The first time this season.” She could not ask him outright to stay beside her. Yet that new part of herself refused to let him go.

“Yes?” He waited patiently, but if he perceived her intent, he gave her no aid.

“I hoped - That is I thought perhaps - But only if you do not construe my intent falsely.” She floundered on, unwilling to ask him to stay, yet unwilling to let him go.

“Yes, Miss Everett. Could you be a little plainer?” She thought she saw mischief dancing in those black eyes of his, but his tone was perfectly even. “What am I not to construe falsely?”

“My - my request to have you stay and discuss the play with me,” she blurted. Then she stood silent, the bodice of her gown trembling with the fluttering of her heart. What an audacious thing to do! She was quite appalled at having been so forward.