Samantha

Chapter 7

Vinelands was aglow with the light of hundreds of candles, both in the ballroom and in all the windows, with footmen patrolling the front rooms in case the votives stopped burning or began to set something on fire. Samantha wished she could step out onto the frosty lawn to see the effect of so many lights, but she had been asked to stand with her family in the receiving line. Also, her witch gown was too thin to allow her out into the cold.

Her grandmother had been aghast at Lady Valerie's choice of costume for Samantha, but when the child did not make a fuss, she let the matter drop. After all, it was black.

Lady Valerie had wanted to use cosmetics, but Samantha refused to be smeared with a green-tinted maquillage or touched with rouge. Instead of returning the rouge, however, she had secreted it in the dressing room table. She and Jane had decided to brighten her cheeks and lips later in keeping with her alternate costume.

Samantha stood patiently in line and allowed herself to be introduced to the friends and neighbors of her grandparents. She could see they were intensely curious about her, and she felt the same about them, but this was not exactly the occasion for doing more than making small talk around the punch bowl.

She nodded to kings and magical creatures, including a pretty pink fairy, Shakespearean and nursery rhyme characters and any number of animals. A horse, Romeo and a prince of some sort all asked her to dance, no mean feat when she was dressed like a minion from Hell. She gracefully declined, citing her mourning as the reason. Whether the gentlemen would still seek her out remained to be seen. Then again, she was going to change her costume momentarily and they might not find her at all. It was a fun thought - she had never been a mystery to anyone in her life.

Ryder reached his home early that evening only to find his mother and sister already at Vinelands, dining with their graces, Lady Valerie and Miss Samantha.

Samantha... His mother's letters mentioned the girl, the duke had made her central to his negotiations for Arabella's season, and his sister's letters spoke of no one else, not even the vicar. He was eager to meet this paragon, if only to thank her for the much-needed friendship she had brought to Arabella's life. There were times, in the past year especially, he did not think he was adequately performing his brotherly duties. He ought to be home helping pave her way socially in the neighborhood.

It angered him that the local chits put such little stock in that imp's winning personality, and judged her on income alone, but he had learned, in the few years since his father's death, that almost everything came down to money. At least no one was forcing him to marry for it, which was just as well. He had his pride. Arabella should keep hers, too - and he planned to remind her about that before she was launched into London society. He did not want her to think she had to marry for financial gain. Even their wastrel father had married their mother for love.

Ryder's valet laid out a simple black domino for his employer, knowing his lordship hated dressing up for costume balls, even her grace's annual fete.

"But duty calls and I promised Arabella to join her, if I could make it," he told his man.

"Very good, my lord. In that case, you will wish to search for a pink fairy."

Ryder shook his head. Only Arabella would want to be a fairy in this weather. It was too cold and damp to walk to Vinelands, and there was no sense taking another carriage... He ordered his horse saddled. He would ride.

Once the reception line had petered out, Samantha excused herself and slipped into the crowd. The dancing was about to begin and she saw her fairy friend speaking with a bear. She hoped that was Arabella's first partner of the evening and that she had a full dance card.

Once she could no longer see her grandparents and aunt, she went out a side door and up the back stairs to her room, where Jane waited with suppressed excitement to help her change clothes. Then she ran back downstairs and out through the gallery door, into the gardens and up onto the terrace, giving the appearance that she was just returning from a breath of fresh air.

Ryder, having been welcomed by his relatives and about to search for his sister and mother, saw the lady as she stepped back inside. The gown caught his attention first: heavy gold satin and jet beads blazing in the candlelight. She paused and seemed almost confused as to where she should go, and he hastened across the room to offer his assistance, drawn by the rouged mouth below the mask that covered the top of her face.

"Buona sera ... signorina?" he queried. He did not dally with married women and he did not wish to discover later that she was a signora.

"Si, signorina, sir," she replied, lapsing back into English at the last. Indeed, the previous words were all the Italian she knew. "But do not expect me to converse in Italian all evening. Languages are not my forte."

That voice! He knew it from somewhere...

"Mine, neither, I fear. I know a smattering of French and Italian, and some Greek and Latin, but my professors soon realized I would never be proficient in any of them." He wondered why he was standing there speaking of his lack of scholarship when he was faced with a beautiful Venetian lady who probably danced divinely. It was time to find out.

"Will you honor me with the next dance?" he asked.

"Alas, I do not dance this evening," she replied. "I am in mourning."

That, and the voice, clinched his suspicion - this was his Mary Howard. He was sure of it.

After reaching several dead ends in his search for the girl, including an inconclusive interview with Lord Seawright, he had given up. But now that he had found her once more, he could not scare her off. Their past few meetings had been less than satisfactory, due, he knew, to his own behavior, and for that he needed to atone.

"Then allow me to sit out this dance with you. It is perfectly acceptable, you know," he said, leading her to a chair on the sidelines, an area where few people sat. Most were on the dance floor or strolling about the room. "Now, tell me something about yourself, signorina."

"I am from Venice," she teased, her carmine-red lips curling up into a smile.

"Where do you live now?"

"In Devonshire."

"Devonshire is a large county. Perhaps you could narrow it down for me?"

She shook her head. "I cannot, sir. It would not be proper."

Ah, she must still be a companion. He would let the question slide for now. There were ways of discovering her whereabouts now that he had it narrowed down. Perhaps Arabella could help. No, she would not understand his fascination with the young lady, especially as a companion with no dowry to bring to marriage. Not that he was thinking marriage, of course. And not that he would marry for money. His interest in Mary Howard was better kept to himself until he figured out exactly why he needed to know more about his mystery lady.

Samantha was startled to be approached by a gentleman in a black domino almost as soon as she entered the ballroom, but she played along when he spoke in Italian. She was entertained by his flirtatious attitude, at first, and then realized she knew this man. Not that she would let on, of course. Every time she met him, he said or did something embarrassing, and she was not about to let that happen again. Not at her grandmother's ball! She kept her personal answers to his queries to a minimum, and when he gave up the inquisition, she was relieved on two counts - one, he could not discover that they had already met, and he would not be able to find her if he did.

Unfortunately, just as she was about to excuse herself and find someone else to talk to, Lady Valerie, dressed as a milkmaid of all things, and another lady came into view.

"She can't see me!" she squeaked, standing quickly and stepping behind a potted palm.

"Who can't see you?" He rose and joined her amongst the shrubbery.

"Her! I need to get out of here!" If Lady Valerie caught her, in a different costume and sitting alone with a gentleman, she would be in trouble. That her aunt did not like her was evident. There was no need to give the lady ammunition against her, as well.

"Follow me!" The gentleman took her by the hand and pulled her in the opposite direction of Lady Valerie, along the row of long windows flanked in heavy velvet curtains, and out a door into a walled garden, one of several attached to the house.

"Thank you! I did not want to get caught..."

"Playing truant from your regular duties?" he teased.

"Er, yes, you could say that. Where are we?" She had never been in this particular little sanctuary before, but she could see it was kept up. Someone had trimmed vines back from the wall, a couple of cold-sensitive plants had been shrouded in sheets, and a little pond in the middle of the area was covered in glass to protect a few goldfish. Oil burners sat next to the water to provide warmth to the fish.

"His grace's private retreat. Not many people know about it, not even some family members."

Samantha would have agreed to that statement if she could. This was the first she had seen of it, and then she realized she had not made an extensive tour of the grounds. After all, it was winter, and the stables were in the other direction. But she would gladly keep her grandfather's garden a secret.

"How do you know about it, then?"

"I am a friend of the family."

"And you live nearby?" She was suddenly curious about this gentleman she had vowed to reform. If she kept him occupied, perhaps he would not go in search of a drink.

"My estate is not too far away. But I live in London most of the year. Will you be attending the season?"

"Yes..."

"May I hope you will recognize me if we were to meet in town?"

"Y-y-y-y-e-s-s-s," she said, her teeth chattering. The garden was protected from the wind, but it was still cold and she could feel the chill air through the satin of her gown.

"We need to get you warm." He steered her over to one of the oil burners. "Better?"

"A little. Perhaps I should go back indoors. She will have passed by now, and I could find..." Samantha stopped. She had been going to say 'a glass of punch,' but she did not want to place that particular image in his head.

"Something warm to put over your gown?" he suggested.

"Yes. That's it. Something warm."

"Then allow me to escort you inside. I'm sure Lady Valerie or the duchess has something you can borrow..."

"No! I mean, yes! That's it! I shall go find one of them. It was nice meeting you, sir," she said, backing away from him. As much as she wished to keep him from the punch, she wished to keep herself away from her relatives, too. She was going to have to go back upstairs now and change costumes once again.

"No, wait!" he called, catching her by the hand. "I don't even know your name," he lied. "How am I to find you once you come to London?"

"I'm sure, sir, we shall meet," she said. After all, fate had been quixotic enough to arrange three meetings so far. What was one more? One where they could meet as themselves and behave with civility and perhaps even get to know each other properly.

"At least give me something to remember you by," he pleaded.

She wondered what she could offer him and recalled that she was going up to change clothes.

"Wait here. In five minutes, look on the handle of the door leading back into the house. My token will be there." She slipped from his grasp and ran to the door, pulling the mask from her face and leaving it hanging for him. Taking the door that led to her grandfather's study, she circumvented the ballroom and went upstairs once more.

Chapter 8

Ryder woke the next morning with a mission.

When his mother and sister heard, after a late breakfast, that they were all to call at Vinelands, they did not see anything untoward in that command. After all, they were family. They had enjoyed themselves the evening before and it was good manners to let their host and hostess know this in person.

"And I may finally introduce you to Samantha," Arabella said happily as they approached the ducal manor house. She had lost track of her friend at the ball, because the fairy had been a popular dance partner, but she was sure she had seen a witch sitting out with a horse at one point.

"I cannot wait to meet this paragon of a cousin," he teased.

"She's what?" Arabella wailed a short time later upon hearing that Samantha was indisposed.

"She has caught a cold, poor dear, and I'm sure it was from all that riding you two did last week..." the duchess remarked, having told them several times to remain indoors. "I was so hoping you would meet her this trip, Ryder, but it is not important. You shall see her in a few
months in London."

"Oh, yes!" his sister chimed in. "She and I are going to have so much fun! I haven't decided yet if I want to live with you while in town, Jack, or stay with Cousin Lucinda. Mama says she will be wherever I am, so if you wish to keep your household to a bachelor establishment, just say the word."

"I think I could tolerate a mother and a brat for a few months, just long enough to puff you off to the highest bidder," he teased and was rewarded with the sight of Arabella's tongue.

"Arabella!" her mother admonished, but the girl just laughed.

"I think we might just stay with Cousin Lucinda and Samantha, if that is how you are going to be."

"As you will, brat. How are all the neighbors?" he asked the duchess. "I thought since I was home for a few days, I would make a couple of calls, but if someone else has a cold, I should not like to catch it."

The duchess launched into a discourse on the locals - how there was a new addition to the Harvey nursery, but a poor relation had come to live with them to help out, because there were just so many children in that family ... How old Lady Farthingay was forced to take on a companion to keep from embarrassing the family ("She thinks she is Queen Elizabeth," she confided). And there was a new governess at the Malvern estate. Other births, deaths and additions to households were noted and Ryder made a mental list. The first few sounded quite promising, and he vowed to begin there with his rounds.

Samantha was bedridden with a runny nose, scratchy throat and barking cough. After changing costumes once more, she had taken pains to avoid the man in the black domino, but she kept an eye on him all the same. She had not seen him near the rack punch once, but then, she had been sought out by the gentleman in the horse costume and they had sat out a dance together. His conversation had been a bit dry, though, so when her nose began to drip just as he was asking to take her into supper, she excused herself and headed up to bed.

Jane had been all that was solicitous as concerned her charge, and had given her a posset and a mustard plaster before finally allowing her to sleep.

The next morning, after a meal of weak tea and unbuttered toast, she was beginning to feel bored and cranky, and she only cheered up when Arabella appeared in the doorway.

"I danced every set last night!" she said in greeting, bringing a smile to Samantha's lips. "Cousin Lucinda said you are ill, so I shall come every morning and stand here for a little while and entertain you. Guess what? Jack is home! He arrived last night and was at the ball!"

"Oh?" This was news. "What did he wear?"

"Oh, something dark," Arabella said airily. "He spoke to me once, but it was from behind as we stood at the refreshment table, and then later, I saw him in plain formal wear, so he was probably wearing that all along." She summarily dismissed her brother from her mind and regaled Samantha with little on-dits from the ball until she was called for. "We're off to pay calls on some of the neighbors..." She made a face.

"While you are about today, would you try to discover which neighboring gentleman was dressed as a horse? He was rather boring and I'd like to know his identity before I meet him formally," Samantha said with a wry smile. As she expected, Arabella dissolved into giggles.

"That is Lord Malvern. I danced with him last night. He's quite a puppy, at least that is what Jack calls him. I'll tell you more about the ball on the morrow, after I glean some good gossip from everyone else," Arabella promised, blowing Samantha a kiss before disappearing from the doorway.

Ryder might have well gone home or back to London, as fruitful as his search for Mary Howard seemed to be.

The Harvey's poor relation was a young lady, but she had red hair and protruding teeth. He made the mistake of asking for her specifically, and by the time they were ready to move on, she had attached herself to him and had him agreeing to a dance at Almack's.

His mission went from bad to worse when he mentioned Lady Farthingay's new companion to the dowager's daughter-in-law, and then nothing could be done except for him to go upstairs and visit the lady and her new employee. After five minutes watching him bow and scrape to 'her majesty,' the elderly companion took pity on him and escorted him back to the drawing room.

By the time they had reached Malvern, Arabella was looking at him strangely.

"Don't tell me you want to meet the companion here, too," she said curiously as their mother moved ahead and greeted the family first.

"No. The governess. How are we to get ourselves in the schoolroom?" he wondered.

"I don't understand you, Jack - why are you looking for a companion, or a governess, or whatever in the first place? You haven't compromised one and are looking for her now to salvage her reputation, are you?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"Arabella!" He admonished his sister, but her words were almost too close for comfort. He had not compromised Miss Howard, but he still felt guilty about placing her in several awkward positions. "I have not. But I am looking for a young lady..."

"I knew it!" Arabella informed their hosts that she and Jack were going to look in on Miss Malvern, who was in the schoolroom, and Lady Malvern could not get rid of them fast enough. It was one thing for Lady Arabella to call and wish to go upstairs, but the baroness' eldest was almost seventeen and if Lord Ryder showed any interest... It was best to encourage it. The sister might not have a feather to fly with, but rumor had it Ryder had gone far in recouping the family's losses. And he was an earl.

Oblivious to these thoughts, the Pryce siblings went up to see the young lady. They were back downstairs with her later, for tea, Miss Malvern hanging onto Ryder as if he were a prize. He bore it manfully. After all, she had been a good excuse for investigating the governess, who turned out to be in her mid-thirties, if she was a day.

"Tell me all about it," Arabella urged later that afternoon, once they had returned home. She had cornered her brother in his study, bringing a pot of tea and a plate of his favorite jam tarts. Setting them down in front of the fire, she patted the chair next to her and invited him to take a break from the estate accounts he was checking for their mother.

"There is not much to tell. I insulted a lady recently, have learned that she is now residing in Devonshire, and I wish to find her and apologize."

"I've never known you to insult a lady!"

"It happened this time, and not once, but twice," he admitted, sinking into the leather of his chair.

Arabella poured him a cup of tea and then went to the grog table for a tot of brandy to add to his drink. "You must have been intoxicated," she said matter-of-factly.

"Why do you say that?" He pushed the brandy away.

"Because Papa used to do that sometimes, remember? He would say all sorts of things when he was in his cups, and they were not always nice. Suit yourself," she said concerning the alcohol, adding a few drops to her own cup. "What happened the first time?"

"I was in London ... I had gone to White's with some gentlemen I had been trying to line up as investors, and before I knew it, a little too much port had been imbibed."

Arabella nodded sagely. "Papa used to drink port to excess."

"Stop that! I am not Papa!"

"Never said you were. Please continue."

"It was so late, it was early the next morning, and all I could think about was this young lady I had rescued from some brutes the week before, and I found myself in the east end of town."

"Dangerous place, the east end." Her eyes narrowed in thought. "Not too many ladies living in that section..."

"She was a vicar's daughter. I disrupted a church service."

"You don't say..." Arabella was doing a few calculations in her head. After all, what were the odds there were two vicar's daughters in that part of town with drunken gentlemen on their doorsteps. "What happened next?"

"You really don't want to know."

"Oh, I really do! Confession is good for the soul," she said piously.

Ryder snorted. "She kicked me out of the house."

Arabella chuckled. Knowing Samantha, she could see that happening, if only to protect her father. "You deserved that."

"I know. But that is not as bad as what happened when we met again."

This was new... "You met again? When? Where?"

"At an inn between here and Bath. I was coming from a house party in Wales with Cosmo and Ainsworth. I was on my way to London. She was traveling south."

"The trouble twins," Arabella said under her breath. She liked Ryder's friends, really she did, but sometimes they were not the best of companions for him. "What happened there?"

"I was drinking with Cosmo and Ainsworth, and I had a bit too much port. Cosmo wagered I could, er, ah, seduce the next lady I saw. I did not take the bet," he hastily assured her. "But Ainsworth did and as my luck would have it upon opening the door I found myself face to face with the same young lady. They egged me on to kiss her, but I could not. She's a very nice lady," he said dreamily.

Arabella sat back in her chair and stared at the fire. Why had she not seen it before - Ryder and Samantha would be perfect for each other. And obviously, they had already met. She had not heard the story about the inn from Samantha, but no doubt it correlated with Ryder's. It seemed as if they had both been taken with each other, although one would have to read between the lines of Samantha's tale to know that.

Too bad Samantha had a cold. Arabella could just imagine what could have happened today if they had met. A good thing they had not. They might have been embarrassed, and they would have been in front of other people, too. This was going to take a little bit more coordination, and some privacy, and it was going to have to wait. Samantha wasn't going anywhere until the spring and then she was headed straight for Ryder. Arabella would have to arrange their next meeting in London.

"So that is why you have been searching for her today. You know she is a companion somewhere..." Or had recently been a companion, Arabella thought with a snicker. "...and that she is in Devonshire. It must be a different part of the county. Will you try elsewhere tomorrow?"

"Perhaps." Perhaps not. He did have business in London, after all.

"I think you should check with friends as you travel back to town," she suggested, proud of how calm and collected she sounded, when inside she was bouncing with excitement. A sister she could love, an excellent wife for Ryder, someone with a hefty dowry and a distant cousin, to boot. "And you should leave soon. Can't forget your business, after all."

"I'll leave for town tomorrow."

Chapter 9

Arabella's excitement for the London Season was infectious, and as soon as Samantha had recovered from her cold, the two launched themselves into an orgy of preparations.

There were more deportment and etiquette lessons, conducted by Lady Valerie, and dancing sessions with Lady Ryder. The duchess was already planning wardrobes so that first trips to modistes and mantua-makers could be dispatched with ease.

Lady Valerie's classes, where she seemed to grasp everything more quickly than Arabella, were the only place Samantha earned her aunt's approval. Not that she would admit it in front of everyone else, but Lady Valerie constantly held Samantha up as a perfect example of proper decorum. Arabella joked behind the older lady's back that if she had seen Samantha toss that gentleman out of her house, she might not be so quick to credit her niece with good manners.

Arabella had almost said "toss Jack out of her house," but she held her tongue. Instead, she worried that she was not as fast a learner as her friend. "I can't seem to do anything right," she wailed one afternoon as the two sat embroidering in the portrait gallery. "But if anyone is earning accolades from the teacher," she added, nudging Samantha with her elbow, "I am glad it is you."

Samantha had to agree. "She dislikes me otherwise, and I am not even allowed to call her my aunt. I know her attitude stems from when she jilted Lady Seawright's son, but I do not know why."

Arabella had not listened at keyholes for nothing. She knew the entire story.

"As far as I can tell, this whole situation is your mother's fault. Now, before you get offended, I'm operating from hearsay. I doubt Lady Valerie has spoken of this in her entire life, and I can only relate what speculation I have heard from Mother and Cousin Lucinda. Why did your mother run away?" she asked. "I've always wondered."

"I don't know. She never told me. I only know that Papa rescued her from an intolerable situation and that I came along later. But if Lady Valerie thought it was a deliberate gesture on her sister's part to run off, I can see where she would not want any reminders about it, namely me."

"You are most likely correct. Rumor has it that Lady Valerie broke off her engagement because she didn't want Seawright to think she was either a charity case or much like her sister. Again, no offense." Arabella held her hands up in mute appeal.

"None taken. Do you think she truly loved him? I should think a duke's daughter could ignore society and just marry the man."

"Your mother did, and I think, from what you have said, she had a happy life."

"It was mostly happy. I think she regretted not reclaiming her family. I'm glad I could do that for her. But what if Lady Valerie thought she was doing the right thing in rejecting Lord Seawright, but still nursed a broken heart? That would cause me to be a bitter old maid."

"If that is so, we should try to get them together again. Unfortunately, Lady Valerie never goes to London."

"Never?" Samantha found that hard to believe. "Then we shall have to devise a good reason why she must come with us."

In the end, it was a simple task to get Lady Valerie to pack for Town. Samantha insisted Arabella was going to be trouble if someone was not there to remind the girl constantly of the rules. Her aunt blanched at the thought and called for her maid.

"Thank you very much for bringing me into this," Arabella said sarcastically when she heard the news. "But Cousin Lucinda said we may share a suite in her townhouse, and that is definitely a consolation."

The trip to London was undertaken as soon as the roads became passable, and if Samantha were not so nervous about seeing her gentleman once again, she would have enjoyed the spring scenery. Lambs gamboled in the fields, the first green leaves had appeared on the trees and birds' nests tucked among the shrubbery and fences were filled with little speckled eggs.

She also would have appreciated Arabella's high spirits, too. The younger girl was full of ideas, activities and outings, none of which she planned to invite the ladies of Devonshire, not after they had snubbed her. Samantha did not blame her. Once she had been introduced to the neighbors, she found they did not have much to recommend them.

The closer they came to the capital, the more excited Arabella became. And the more butterflies multiplied in Samantha's stomach. Would other ladies like her? Would the gentlemen? Would her mystery man find her?

"Are we there yet?" Arabella had asked for the hundredth time just as the ducal caravan pulled up in front of an elegant Mayfair mansion.

It was a house Samantha recalled well. Only this time she was not entering as a potential employee. She was, she told herself proudly, the granddaughter of the house, and should remember to act accordingly. She, Arabella and Lady Ryder alighted from their carriage just as the duke was helping the duchess and Lady Valerie from another, and then servants boiled out of the house to welcome their master and mistress. Lady's maids and a valet began directing others to take luggage from the third carriage, admonishing them unnecessarily, or so it seemed to Samantha, to be careful with everything. Jane was to be maid for both Samantha and Lady Arabella, and she was especially militant about their trunks and bandboxes. Samantha gave her an encouraging pat on the back as she followed her elders into the house.

Lord Ryder called the next morning, when everyone but Samantha was still in bed. She had taken pity on Arabella earlier, when the girl had thrown a pillow over her head and pleaded for more sleep, citing the fatigue of several days in a carriage. Samantha could have mentioned several days with a bouncing Arabella in a carriage, but she was feeling no ill effects from the journey and let her friend go back to bed.

Exploring her new surroundings, Samantha found the library, and once she was curled into a chair, engrossed in a book on ancient Egypt, she forgot about everything else until a footman entered the room.

"Lord Ryder to see the family, Miss."

Samantha smiled. Here was her chance to meet the brotherly paragon of virtue Arabella spoke of so incessantly. "No one else is about - would you show him in here?" She was family, she reasoned with herself, ready to receive her first London visitor. She was not prepared, however, for the gentleman who entered the room.

"Lord Ryder?" she asked incredulously, standing quickly, her book falling to her feet unheeded.

"Miss Howard?" he replied, equally dumbfounded. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," she said, somewhat confused by his question.

"Why didn't you tell me you were employed by the duchess when we met at the ball?"

"Why should I tell you something that is not true?"

"But you are a companion, and I..." He almost said he had looked everywhere for her, but he held himself in check. "We called the day after the ball. Where were you?"

"I caught a cold and could not come down. I fail to see why you are grilling me for all this information, Lord Ryder, if that is, indeed, your real name."

"It is, Miss Mary Howard. But you are one to talk. No one seems to know a Mary Howard anywhere in Devonshire."

"How would you know? And I do not go by that name. I'm Samantha. Mary Samantha Agnes Howard, if you wish to look it up somewhere."

"You're Samantha? The Samantha? You've been with Cousin Lucinda all this time?" He sat down suddenly, as if he was unable to take in all the information at once.

"Yes, I am Samantha. Believe it if you wish," she said haughtily, tired of his inquisition. "And where I have been is none of your business. If you had only asked my name at the ball..."

"You knew it was me? Why didn't you say something?"

"Do you blame me for saying nothing? Our two previous meetings had been less than pleasant, if I recall." And not too much worse than this one was going, actually.

"But I came back to the vicarage to apologize!" he insisted.

"A month later?" she scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Yes. Terribly rude of me not to have done so before then, but you were not there."

Samantha sat down, aware that Lord Ryder should be standing if she was standing and thinking it indicative of all their encounters that she was accommodating him once again.

"And the next time? Why did you not apologize then for your previous actions?"

He flushed. "I was not alone and I did not think it proper to mention the church service..."

"...In front of your friends," she finished for him, suddenly wishing he would just go. Forget her grand plan at reformation. Forget their interlude in the walled garden. Forget everything. "I think you should leave."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, I think you should quit the house and call back later when other people will be more than happy to receive you." She would not be one of them.

"Perhaps that would be for the best," he said curtly. Rising, he bowed deeply and left the room.

Once out on the walk, in front of his phaeton, Ryder let out a string of expletives that blistered even the ears of his tiger, a scrappy fellow known for his salty tongue. Ryder did not understand that girl. Yes, she had every right to be angry, but she had not been that way at the ball, and now that they had established that she had recognized him there, what was the problem?

His problem, he realized as he headed home, was that he had hoped for a better reception once they realized they had already met.

"You wanted her to fall into your arms and confess undying love?" he asked himself aloud.

"M'lord?" the tiger asked.

"Nothing." Merciful heavens - now he was talking to himself! Perhaps he just had this fantasy built up around Miss Mary Howard. Perhaps the reality was far more interesting. Perhaps he was already ripe for Bedlam. The fact was he was quite enamored of the chit already and he had just officially met her.

I think you should quit the house and call back later when other people will be more than happy to receive you.

Oh, but he made her so angry! Drunkeness, womanizing (she thought of the wager at the inn as womanizing, at any rate) and now examining her as if she were an insect under a glass! If Samantha wanted to be grilled, she could always present herself to Lady Valerie for inspection. She did not need him doubting her or complaining that he did not know Miss Mary Howard and Samantha were the same person. How had he learned her first name? She recalled the day he had come to the church service and sighed. The ladies had been vocal enough, and he had returned later to apologize. No doubt someone had mentioned her then.

And now? Now she had been given a chance to rail at him and he was gone.

Samantha was rather stunned that she had literally kicked Lord Ryder out of a house once more. Not that she could truly rid herself of him - he was family, after all, and this was not her establishment. She leaned over and retrieved her book from the floor. If someone walked in they would see a quiet, demure young lady learning about ancient Egypt. If Ryder returned, she would have something to throw at his head.

Chapter 10

Ryder did return to their graces' townhouse later, but Samantha was nowhere to be seen and he refused to ask about her. Not only would he have to explain that he had called earlier, because he doubted she had mentioned it, but he would also have to face her again when either Arabella or the duchess insisted they meet. Arabella, characteristically, brought the subject up anyway.

"It's sad Miss Howard is indisposed after such a tiring journey. I so wanted to introduce you. You will meet her eventually, I dare say."

He agreed politely and asked his sister if she would like to go for a drive.

"I should love to."

"But you don't have the right clothes yet!" their mother protested.

"I am not going to set foot out of Jack's phaeton, Mama. Besides, you can have no objection to the yellow bonnet and pelisse."

Her ladyship did not, having designed them for her daughter, and sent her children off with the admonition to stay in the carriage.

Ryder took Arabella to Hyde Park. It was not the fashionable hour to be seen, but it was fairly full, and he found himself stopping constantly to make introductions.

"You know so many people!" she exclaimed after three separate gentlemen hailed him. No doubt to investigate the lady at his side, he thought, as the third man in a row introduced the subject of Almack's to Arabella. He watched proudly as she neither simpered nor giggled, as some girls were wont to do. By the time they had reached one end of the park and had turned around, she admitted to actually looking forward to the assemblies.

"And you must dance with Samantha," she insisted. "In fact, you should bring her here tomorrow. Then she shall have her dance card almost filled, as I have managed to do. Won't it be great fun?"

"If you like stale cake and watered-down lemonade," he muttered, hoping she meant Almack's. It would be no fun at all to bring Samantha to the park, where she would no doubt garner as much attention as his sister. He did not think he could bear to watch other men fawn over her as they had done to Arabella today.

She shrugged. "One must make a few sacrifices."

Ryder pulled his matched bays up under a tree and turned to her.

"I have a problem and I need your assistance."

"You've discovered your mystery lady is our cousin, Samantha, and you wish to atone for your drunken disorderliness, and you want me to help," she said angelically.

"How did you...? Never mind. Yes, that is it in a nutshell." He would never understand how Arabella managed to know everything going on around her. He wasn't sure he wished to, either.

"First we need to arrange a meeting. In a public place, where she cannot cry off or plead the headache, or any of those things I've always employed to avoid unpleasant situations."

Again, he did not want to know details. He only nodded in agreement.

"Once you two realize you've know each other all along, you can apologize for your appalling, boorish behavior, Jack, and ask her if you may have a new beginning."

"What if she won't want to start over?"

"Then we knock her unconscious, tie her to a chair and force-feed her tripe until she breaks. I don't know!" she said in exasperation.

"You are the mastermind behind the plot," he reminded her.

"Even masterminds cannot prepare for every contingency, Jack."

"I beg your pardon," he said sarcastically.

"Use your natural charm. It ... oh, no," she said with a sigh. "It's Bozo and Ainsworthless..."

"Cosmo and Ainsworth, you cheeky chit," he instructed before hailing his friends.

"Oh, joy," she muttered as they approached before cheerfully adding her own greetings.

"Ryder!" Cosmo exclaimed. "And the lovely Lady Arabella. Welcome to London. I must tell Mother that the duchess has arrived."

"You do that," Arabella said softly, adding a vacant smile when her brother frowned at her.

"And Caroline will want to call, as well," Ainsworth said of his sister.

The conversation deteriorated rapidly at that point, as far as Arabella was concerned. The men lapsed into a discussion concerning a prizefight and she did not care to follow along.

Samantha supposed her next meeting with Lord Ryder was destined to be that same day and she was not surprised when the duchess invited him to dinner.

She was instructed to dress simply for the evening, as they were not going out, and her new lavender silk was suitable not only for her complexion, but society's notions of half-mourning.

Arabella had been full of news upon her return, and they dressed together in her room so Jane did not have to rush back and forth between them.

"You must allow Jack to take you to the park tomorrow," Arabella said slyly. She was sprawled out on the bed in her shift and corset while Jane dressed Samantha in front of the cheval mirror. There could be no time for her brother to speak privately to Samantha that evening, but the next day, on a drive, would do nicely. Samantha would be a captive
audience and they could put all that other nonsense behind them. That would leave Arabella with the task of making Samantha her sister.

Arabella was no slowtop. She had read enough romance novels to know Jack and Samantha were meant for each other. She was intelligent enough to realize it was going to take her assistance in bringing that about. She was not going to be deterred in her plans.

"We are going shopping tomorrow," Samantha reminded her. "I doubt I shall have the time or the inclination to visit the park."

"Nonsense! Jack will do all the driving." And talking, if she had her way. "All you have to do is listen, er, go along for the ride."

"I suppose," came the muffled reply as Jane dropped the lavender gown over Samantha's head. "Did you meet any interesting people while you were out?"

"Oh, plenty! I even have a number of dance partners lined up for Almack's."

"But the assemblies don't even begin until next Wednesday!"

"I know!" Arabella crowed. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Just the sort of thing one would include in a letter to the Malverns," Samantha said innocently.

"You're absolutely right!" Arabella sat up so quickly, she slid off the satin counterpane and onto the floor with a thud. "I shall tell Mama - she may include it in her next missive to Lady Malvern." She was delighted with this idea. "But one dance does not a conquest make. I shall have to cultivate several beaux, in case gossip gets back to Devonshire."

"You plan to set yourself up as a flirt?"

"Why not? I'm young enough yet, and while it would be nice to find a man who can take care of me so I won't have to be a burden on my family, I might as well enjoy myself. You should, too."

"I'm not a forward person, so I shall leave the flirting to you. But I would like to meet some nice, steady men," she admitted.

"And so you shall! Starting this evening! Don't forget Jack is coming to dinner..."

Samantha sighed. She could not forget that.

It was easier to approach Lord Ryder with civility when they were in a group. The duke reached the earl first when he was announced, shook his hand and brought him forth immediately to Samantha.

"It's about time you two met. Samantha, my dear, this is your cousin Jack Pryce, Lord Ryder. Ryder, my granddaughter, Miss Samantha Howard."

Pleasantries were exchanged under the watchful eyes of the other ladies, and then Arabella rescued her from having to make small talk by insisting she needed to speak privately for a moment with her brother.

"Probably wants to squeeze some extra pin money out of him," the duke said jovially as Ryder was whisked away out from underneath their noses. "A good man, Jack. Takes care of his family and he does not live in dissipated excess," he said to his granddaughter. Samantha begged to differ, but only in her mind.

"Oh, goodness, yes. Poor dear is recouping the family losses nicely, isn't he, Melissa?" the duchess asked Lady Ryder. "His father did everything to excess. Jack is nothing like his sire," she whispered to Samantha.

Samantha thought she could tell the duchess a few home truths, but she stilled her tongue. On this subject, even Lady Valerie seemed to be on Lord Ryder's side.

"He is to be commended," Samantha's aunt said.

Fortunately, the butler announced dinner. The duke escorted Lady Ryder and the earl brought in the duchess, leaving Lady Valerie, Arabella and Samantha to bring up the rear. Luck was again on Samantha's side a few moments later when she was seated between her aunt and Lady Ryder, and his lordship was across the table next to his hostess.

What she failed to realize was that this was a family dinner, and the formality drilled into her by Lady Valerie was not applicable. Indeed, Lord Ryder seemed to want to include her in every conversation.

"How do you like your first day in London?" he asked. She quelled the urge to smack his smug face. He knew she could not accuse him of baiting her without the entire story of their first meetings coming to the fore.

"I have lived in London until recently, my lord. This is more a homecoming for me," she sweetly replied. "Not unlike when you visit Devonshire, I am sure." She bent her head to examine the soup in front of her and hoped he would go away.

"Your father was a vicar?" he asked, ignoring his food. The duchess and his mother were happily eating, letting the two young people converse across them as if by unspoken agreement.

"Yes, my lord. St. Matthew's in the east end. I'm sure you have never heard of it."

"Actually, I know it quite well. By location, at least. I pass it weekly on my way to and from a charity hospital where I sit on the board. I may have stopped in there once or twice," he said with a straight face.

Her hand tightened about the spoon she was holding, her knuckles turning white. "Perhaps I can take you and Arabella for a drive over there one day. I am sure my sister would like to see your former home."

"I should love to!" Arabella enthusiastically replied. Samantha glared at her and she dropped her spoon on the floor. "Well, perhaps, if we have time. But not right now, Jack, there is so much to be done for the season. Beginning with a court presentation. Did you know I have three dances already secured for Almack's next week?" she told the duke.

"We are not surprised, my dear. You are a taking thing."

"One can assume Lady Ryder has approved of these partners?" Lady Valerie asked with a sniff.

"I introduced them to her," the earl said, suddenly every inch the aristocrat. "And I am the head of the family. Begging your grace's pardon," he said with a grin towards the duke.

"One day you shall be head of everyone, Jack, and I cannot imagine a better heir if I tried," the older man replied.

Samantha looked over at the earl. She vaguely recalled Arabella or someone saying Lord Ryder was the duke's heir, but she had forgotten. Now she realized that should something happened to her grandfather, she could be at this man's mercy. That would never do. She would have to put more effort than she had originally planned into finding a husband.

Lord Ryder, as if reading her thoughts, lifted his spoon in a mock salute and then dove into the bowl in front of him.

Chapter 11

There was another thing Samantha was confused about. When the ladies excused themselves from the dinner table, the gentlemen followed almost immediately, eschewing port and cigars.

"Don't get used to this," the duchess muttered to her granddaughter. "Sometimes they can sit in there for hours. Now come, Arabella," she called as the entered the smaller salon. "Play for us. And in a little while, you may sing for us, Samantha. I know Ryder has not heard you yet."

Samantha groaned. This man was going to know all her strengths and weaknesses before she even entered society at this rate, and she would know nothing about him. Except for the conflict she felt between her observations and the views of her immediate family. She would have to observe the man more closely and maybe draw some new conclusions.

The tea tray arrived with the gentlemen and Lord Ryder sat down next to her on a sofa. No one considered his interest in her anything but a natural curiosity concerning a newfound relative.

Arabella seemed to be watching them more than her fingers, though, and after a few discordant notes, her brother took pity on her. Moving to the pianoforte, he motioned her off the stool and sat down. Flashing Samantha a grin, he began to play.

"What do you think of Jack?" Arabella whispered, taking his place on the sofa.

"Interesting," Samantha admitted cautiously. Sometimes she had the feeling Arabella knew more about life in general -- and her life in particular -- and it made her nervous. "He is very good." She nodded toward the pianoforte.

"He is a great lover of music." If Arabella had gushed more about his talent, Samantha might have been less impressed. Arabella was quiet after that, however, leaving her cousin to draw her own conclusions

The next afternoon, despite spending the morning being poked, prodded and pinned by the duchess' modiste, Samantha found herself accepting Lord Ryder's invitation for a drive in the park. Both her grandmother and Arabella were present when he called and asked her, and she could not politely refuse.

"I know I should not have asked," he admitted once they were in the phaeton, "but I need a chance to apologize yet again."

"Oh?" She had been staring straight ahead, but now she gave him a sideways glance.

"I should not have questioned you yesterday or taken my surprise out on you."

"No, you should not."

"Forgive me? I should like us to be friends, for Arabella's sake, and for the family, if nothing else."

Put like that, she could not refute him. "A truce it shall be, then," she agreed and lapsed back into silence.

Once again Ryder was put through his paces as he stopped constantly to introduce Miss Howard, and once again he sat by while the young lady at his side garnered her share of attention. But while he had not minded certain gentlemen fawning over his sister -- he had her future to secure, after all -- it was different with Samantha.

The girl was in purple once again, this time in sprigged lavender muslin with a bonnet and pelisse in deeper shades. All were vastly becoming to her, but he did not want to offend her once again by saying so. He was going to have to work hard at couching compliments into acceptable accolades. She did not like them coming from him.

But she had no problem accepting flattery from other gentlemen, he noticed jealously as she accepted a dance offer from yet another man. Two had even asked if they could call at Halbourne House when their female relatives came to see the duchess. Samantha handled this all well, but what if she should find a man she liked better than him?

"Now I am up to Arabella's count," she said happily as they reached one side of the park. "I just need one more partner to top her..."

"I could be that partner," he eagerly replied and then mentally chastised himself for sounding like such a puppy. "After all, we did not dance on Twelfth Night."

"That is so. I will agree, if you promise not to drink that evening."

"Not even lemonade?" he teased, but he could appreciate her request. She probably thought he was a drunken sot, based on previous encounters.

"I suppose that will be acceptable," she said primly, but there was a decided twinkle in her eyes.

Much relieved that they were finally on a friendly footing, they turned to leave the park when he was hailed, as he had been the day before, by Cosmo and Ainsworth.

"By Jove, Ryder -- two females in your carriage in as many days," Cosmo began. When he spied Samantha, he sucked in his breath.

Ainsworth, though, bowed from his horse. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Ryder?"

"Rob..." Cosmo said, but Ryder cut him off with a gesture.

"Miss Howard, I would like you to meet my friends, Sir Robert Ainsworth and Lord Cosmo Villiers. Gentlemen..." He stressed the word for their benefit, as well as hers. "May I present Miss Samantha Howard?"

"How nice to be introduced to you both."

"Miss Howard is the granddaughter of their graces' the Duke and Duchess of Halbourne," Ryder informed his friends. Both men eyed her with some trepidation. This was no vicar's daughter, no paid companion. Halbourne might be getting on in years, but he was still a duke, and still a power to be reckoned with. Besides, Cosmo's mother was a close acquaintance, and Ainsworth knew how to be a proper gentleman, for the most part. Thankfully, of the two, he was the one who recalled the least.

Still, it would be better to keep Samantha at a distance from them until he could explain a few more things to his cronies. Cosmo seemed to read his mind.

"I'm sure we shall be catching up with you later this evening," he said. Ryder agreed, knowing they could discuss the matter at White's. His friends moved on and he took Samantha home.

"This is a nice to-do," were the first words out of Cosmo's mouth that night as the three sat down over a friendly game of cards at their club.

"What?" Ainsworth wondered. "You have been going on and on about something all afternoon, Cosmo, and I just don't understand what you are saying."

"Ryder has found his vicar's daughter -- his paid companion," Cosmo explained.

"It's about time! Is she in Devonshire?"

"She was. She's in London now."

"Where is she?"

Ryder shook his head. Ainsworth could be rather dense. After all, Ryder had only spoken of meeting his mystery lady at the duchess' ball almost nonstop since he had returned to London. Cosmo was tired of it, but Ainsworth barely remembered from one conversation to the next.

"One of these days, Rob, when you meet the right lady, you won't forget her as quickly as you do every other female in your life," Ryder teased the baronet.

"You will have to fall in love for both of us, as well," Cosmo remarked. "Ryder is already gone, but I am never getting married."

"Never say never," Ainsworth counseled. "And you don't have to get leg-shackled. You aren't under pressure to carry on a title."

"But with Miss Howard, Ryder has the best of both worlds!" Cosmo said.

"The devil you say!"

"I do! And it solves a lot of your problems, Ryder. You are the duke's heir. Miss Howard is his granddaughter and bound to have a hefty dowry. Marry the chit and gain some of your inheritance early."

"You are such a romantic!" was Ryder's dry reply.

"I know," Cosmo said with a smirk.

"It is a pity there is a problem with your suggestion. Miss Howard and I have called a truce, but she is not interested in me. I do not believe I am considered husband material, based on two of our previous meetings."

"Not husband material?" Ainsworth asked. "Why, you are practically a saint compared to almost every man in this club!"

"You are putting me to the blush, Ainsworth. But I am certainly not as black as even I have painted myself in her eyes."

"Heavens, no!" Cosmo said with a laugh. "And it seems to me now is the perfect time to convince her otherwise. After all, what good is the season if you don't use it to convince a young lady of your regard?"

"Are you saying I should woo the young lady?"

"No, I'm saying you should ignore her completely and then expect her to come running when you whistle," was the sarcastic reply. "Of course I'm saying woo her!"

A footman approached and Cosmo and Ainsworth ordered port.

"I'll take cider," the earl said. His friends hooted with laughter.

"What brought all this on?"

"The lady has already made it clear she would not appreciate an excess of liquor passing these lips. I'm practicing now." It was truly no hardship, he realized, but his friends continued to laugh.

"Back to the business at hand. We have to think of ways for Ryder to win Miss Howard," Cosmo said once the footman was gone. "What do young ladies like?"

"Flowers," Ainsworth said decidedly. "Sweets, too."

"Poetry," Cosmo added. "Or Lord Composer here could write a song."

"You could take her on a picnic."

"Definitely ask her to waltz. They like that and you will, too." Cosmo waggled his eyebrows at Ryder and they all chuckled.

"Surely the waltz was invented by courting couples," Ryder noted. "But what if she doesn't waltz? I don't know what sort of dances she has learned, but I doubt with Cousin Valerie around, her education has included such a thing."

"Perfect!" Cosmo exclaimed. "If the lady does not waltz yet, you are in the right position to teach her, ensuring extra time holding her in your arms and making sure she knows the steps when the time comes to try it on a dance floor. Even better, you can present yourself as a suitable partner when you ask a patroness to grant her permission."

"Cosmo, you are a genius!"

The footman returned and passed their drinks around and Ryder raised his glass of cider.

"Gentlemen? A toast to my success!" They drank on that and the conversation moved on to other matters.

Much buoyed by his friends' suggestions, Ryder called the next afternoon at Halbourne House.

"Jack!" Arabella squealed, abandoning her hated needlework to embrace her brother. "Are you here to take me to the park? Please?" she whispered. "I hate sewing, and I need something interesting to do to recover from our court presentations yesterday."

"I have a better idea, especially as you must have been so engrossed in your sampler as not to notice it is raining."

"What do you propose, then?" she asked after he recalled his manners and greeted everyone else.

"Do you waltz?"

"I do! Are we to have dancing practice? I don't believe Samantha knows the steps," she slyly added.

"She doesn't?" he asked in mock disbelief. "We can't have that."

"No, indeed. Come on, Samantha," she called to where their cousin sat embroidering a handkerchief and trying to ignore the fact that they were talking about her.

"Yes?"

"Come on! We're going to the other room to teach you how to waltz!"

Chapter 12

"But ... But..." Samantha began to sputter when she was told she was to have waltz lessons -- with Lord Ryder.

"I know you wish to learn," Arabella said, pulling her to her feet. I'll play and you can dance. We'll call you to come see when we are ready," she told the older ladies. Lady Valerie sniffed and looked away, but the duchess and Lady Ryder nodded.

They adjourned to the music room down the hall and Arabella settled down happily at the pianoforte, warming up her fingers while she let her brother explain the steps.

"This dance is quite different from the country dances most often seen, Cousin Samantha. I may call you Cousin Samantha?"

"Of course you can," Arabella called. "After all, you are cousins. Distant ones, to be sure, but still related..."

"Yes, well, anyway," Ryder continued, coughing to cover a smile when Samantha reluctantly agreed to be called by her Christian name. "I am going to have to put my hand on your waist."

"Honest!" Arabella interjected. "Let him touch you, Samantha!"

Part of Samantha wanted to run from the room, but she was caught by Lord Ryder's gray eyes. They were the color of a soft tabby cat, or the mare who used to pull her father's cart.

"All right..." She felt his hand, warm at her waist, and she looked down as he took her other hand in his.

Samantha knew any number of country dances. Being the daughter of the vicar of Danbury entitled her to many invitations. But the waltz was still considered scandalous by some in that small community. Her mother had reminded her, at the time, that she must remain above gossip for her father's sake, as well as her own, so she had not had the pleasure before of a man's hand on her like that.

"You're holding her too far away, Jack!" Arabella complained. "It is proper to hold her closer."

Ryder sighed. "I am giving this lesson," he said to his sister, who was leaning over her instrument, watching. "Cousin Samantha needs to see our feet first."

Arabella apologized, ducked sheepishly behind the pianoforte and began to play.

"Hear that, Samantha?" he asked. "Count with me and watch my feet. One, two, three ... One, two, three..."

She nodded and began to count along softly, and then he requested that she follow his lead. Once she could match him step for step, move for move, he called her name and she looked up into his tabby gray eyes once again.

"Don't look down now," he said. "The trick to all this is conversing with your partner while you dance."

She looked panic-stricken. "I have to talk, too?"

"You already are," he said gently, keeping her gaze. "And we are slowly circling the room, as well."

"We are?" She didn't dare look away.

"We are," he assured her in a soothing voice.

"Do you make a habit of teaching the waltz to every young lady not privileged enough to know the steps?" she wondered. He was an excellent instructor.

"Only to female relatives. Or almost all female relatives. My Aunt Estelle wished me to teach her, but she is about the size of Hyde Park. I tried, but when I could not find her waist, I had to give up."

Samantha laughed. "Poor dear."

"I know I am -- it was so traumatic, I took to my room for a week!"

"I wasn't talking about you! I meant your poor Aunt Estelle. I should have been devastated."

"Never. Besides, you don't eat an entire side of bacon for breakfast." He glanced down at her slim figure. "Do you?"

"You are being very silly, my lord."

"I know. It's a whole other side you haven't seen before. I should be silly more often. Perhaps I can invite some of my friends over one evening for an impromptu night of games."

"I imagine you are quite good at playing games," she teased.

"Quite. As is Arabella."

"Your sister has an incredibly sharp mind. She is such a dear, though; I would be lost without her."

"I should be thanking you. I have never seen her happier, and I can only attribute that to you."

"Then I shall have to keep it up, whatever I am doing. I should hate to witness an Arabella in the doldrums."

"It is not a pretty sight," he agreed.

Arabella finished the music off with a flourish and Samantha paused. "Done already?"

"Already? I have played the piece through five times!" Arabella complained with a good-natured grin. "My fingers need a rest. Why don't you play? I could dance with Jack. Brother and sister do not get the chance at a real party."

"You wish to dance?" her brother asked. "I think we can manage." He held out a hand to her, and she jumped up from her stool and ran to his side.

He bowed and Arabella curtsied before they stepped up to touch hands, shoulder and waist. Ryder began to sing, his baritone rumbling about the room as brother and sister whirled around. When Samantha saw Arabella begin to speak, however, she picked up the tune on the pianoforte so that the siblings could converse.

"Who is the better dancer, me or Samantha?" she asked.

"Cousin Samantha, of course."

"Jack! Would you say it was me if Samantha were to ask?"

"Naturally, but Samantha would never ask. It is not in her nature to be a brat, like you."

"Jack! I am only teasing, you know. I think Samantha dances divinely. You will secure a waltz with her before Almack's, won't you?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"She has already agreed to save me a dance."

"Splendid! You know..." she added. "I am here to help if you need it."

"I think I can do quite nicely on my own, sister dear, but I shall keep you in mind."

Samantha got to put her new dance skills into practice that next Wednesday evening at Almack's.

She and Arabella were both dressed in white, as befitted debutantes, and only Lady Valerie had been scandalized that Samantha had dropped all the outer trappings of mourning.

"I know I will never forget either of my parents," she had explained to her grandmother. "I don't need to wear the willow for them the rest of my life." As she was the one who wished to see Samantha wearing white, the duchess could only agree.

Almack's patroness Lady Jersey greeted guests as they arrived, and was rather effusive towards their graces and Lady Ryder as they entered the assembly rooms. She smiled at Samantha and Arabella as if they had passed an inspection of sorts.

As soon as he could, the duke went in search of the card room, but he promised, first, to come back when the dancing began. He was to lead Samantha out for the first set. Arabella was to partner one of the gentlemen she had met in the park, and she bounced lightly on her feet as she anticipated that happy event.

"Please, Arabella..." her mother wearily admonished. "You ran about all day, you would not sit still to have your hair done and now you are hopping around like a rabbit."

"But she is not shy like a bunny," Ryder, wearing black and white evening dress, said over his mother's shoulder. "Her energy should serve her in good stead this evening."

"I suppose so, but if you come to me later, wishing to go home early, young lady..." The countess let the thread hang.

"Yes, Mama."

"I always like it when a female is respectful to her elders," a gentleman said in Arabella's ear. She stiffened and did not turn around.

"If it isn't Bozo and, I can assume," she added, looking at Samantha for confirmation, "Ainsworthless."

Samantha nodded. She had never seen one gentleman without the other.

"Behave, Scarabella," Lord Cosmo warned, "or I might ask you to dance."

"Heaven forbid it should come to that! For either of us..."

"While the children are playing, may I ask you for the third dance?" Ryder requested, drawing Samantha off to one side.

"Of course."

"I see you are wearing my flowers..."

Samantha blushed. She was, indeed, wearing in her hair the freesias he had sent earlier that day. The other ladies also wore his flowers, but he had included a note in hers.

"A token of friendship," it had said. She had to believe it. The flowers themselves meant the same. It had put her at ease, because she had been afraid at first it was a lover's note. She was not quite ready for one of those. From anyone.

"I say, Miss Howard. If you are available, I should like to offer myself as a partner," Ainsworth interrupted.

"Yes, of course, Sir Robert."

"I'd ask Lady Arabella," he said, "but she seems to be monopolized by her nemesis. I do not mind being Ainsworthless, you see," he confided. "But Cosmo absolutely hates his name."

The three of them laughed and made small talk until the duke claimed his granddaughter for the first dance.

After the second dance, Samantha began to worry. She heard in passing that the next one was a waltz, and she knew, from Lady Valerie's drillings, that one needed permission to do so.

"Miss Howard!" Lady Jersey barked imperiously, rousing Samantha from her musings.

"My lady." She curtsied gracefully to the patroness.

"Lord Ryder has presented himself as an acceptable partner for the waltz." She indicated the earl, hovering at her elbow. "Lucky girl," Samantha thought the lady said under her breath. When she looked up at the patroness, the lady had the same stern gaze of the moment before.

"I give you permission to dance with him. Lady Arabella?"

"Ma'am?" Arabella had not yet secured a partner.

"Lord Cosmo respectfully requests permission on your behalf. Granted." The countess stalked off in pursuit of other hapless young ladies, leaving Ryder smiling down at Samantha and Cosmo bending over Arabella's hand.

"I thought you might like to waltz, Scarabella, but if you would rather not..." Cosmo said.

"She would love to," Ryder and Samantha replied in unison. They looked at each other and laughed rather nervously before he led her to the dance floor.

"I would love to," they heard Arabella say weakly just as the music began.

"Are they always like that?" Samantha asked the earl.

"Always. A couple of years ago, Cosmo and Ainsworth came with me to Ryder for a few weeks, and it was dislike at first sight."

"Are you certain?" Samantha wondered, glancing at the other couple. They were speaking with animation and several smiles were being exchanged.

"Hmmm..." Ryder said thoughtfully. "I had better keep an eye on Cosmo and make sure he is not trifling with my sister. He has vowed not to marry, you see."

Samantha was so engrossed in observing the other couple, she did not even realize they all were already on the other side of the floor from where they began. "Methinks the gentleman and the lady might protest too much," she deliberately misquoted. "Did you ever notice that waltzing is a bit like floating?"

"I shall take that as a compliment, as I am the only partner you've ever had. Believe me, when you've waltzed with others, you will see a difference." If he allowed her to waltz with others.

Suddenly, he decided he wanted to keep her to himself. Always. Forever. He once thought he wanted a wife that was docile and took orders easily and willingly. That was the sort his father had always advised him to find. But he didn't want one like that. He wished -- no, needed -- one who prodded him to action, who did not tolerate certain behaviors and who gave back as good as she got. Someone like Samantha, who did not blindly accept the world around her. A lesser young lady would not have tossed him out of a church service or refused him at the inn. She would not have sought to support herself, or stood up to Lady Valerie.

He finally understood what he should have known all along. A strong man needed a strong woman by his side. He was in love with the lady in his arms, dammit, and if he did not stake his claim as soon as possible, she would be someone else's. He was going to present himself to the duke the very next day.

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