Page 28

Sam

Sam walked down the hall toward the library, tapping the note he carried against his palm.

Despite the whirlwind of events that had taken place over the last week involving a certain runaway woman—and then everything that had transpired yesterday—Sam’s chest was fit to bursting.

Because in a few short moments, his best friend was going to finally get the love he so very much deserved.

Everything in the tower was ready. Sam had ensured it was so.

Now his friend was up there waiting—unnecessarily overcome by nerves.

Unnecessarily because Lady Felicity was going to accept his hand in marriage, no doubt about it.

Those two—Sam’s lonely heart squeezed—what they had was true and pure.

A love that would withstand. Sam could see it in the way Lady Felicity refused to be deterred by the barriers Ash put up.

Sam’s best mate was as stubborn as they came with holding on to his grief and guilt.

It didn’t matter how many times Sam had tried to reason with Ash, he’d been determined to be some sort of martyr, wasting away in this castle, denying himself a partner in life.

God, Ash deserved this so much. That love wasn’t destined for Sam, but at least his best mate could find it. After everything that man had been through. Everything he’d lost. The backs of Sam’s eyes burned, and he blinked furiously. At least there were small justices in this world.

Sam stepped into the library and halted, eyebrows shooting skyward, all bittersweet joy for his friend stolen by the scene before him.

He bit his lip against a threatening smile.

Bentley and Lady Pandora, Ash’s sixteen-year-old daughter, were currently in the middle of a ferocious faux fencing match.

He leaned casually against the door. Well, I’d never .

The ever perfectly proper and put-together Lord Bentley was stripped to his shirtsleeves, sleeves rolled to the elbow, cheeks pink with exertion as he parried back and forth.

And by the blinding smile and bursts of laughter falling from him, he was having a grand ole time.

The man knew how to have fun? Never say it.

The man shouted instructions to the blonde slip of a young woman as they scuttled back and forth, though Pandora’s exuberance more than skill seemed to be giving her an advantage.

Bentley was having a hell of a time following where her jabs were going to come from next, considering she swung her broom handle like she didn’t know where she was aiming.

Sam was finding it extremely difficult to dig up the anger he’d been clinging to.

He knew Ash didn’t hold anything against Bentley, something he’d droned on about this morning while Sam helped him dress.

Ash might be forgiving, but Ash was Sam’s sole person.

And Bentley had attacked him. Threatened the one person Sam loved.

He wasn’t supposed to let that go. Was he?

But the god-damned man had this overwhelming pull on Sam. It was the contradiction. The man was all sharp barbed edges on the outside. But underneath…

Pandora and Bentley jousted sharply, grunts and growls coming from each of them. Battle to the death, it appeared. And then Pandora landed a shot straight to Bentley’s chest.

He fell, arms flailing extravagantly, and collapsed to the floor.

“You’ve killed me!” He reached for Pandora, like he was grasping for life.

Then his hand flopped to the floor, and he went limp.

Pandora toed the boneless heap with her slipper.

He didn’t budge, and she broke out into a fit of giggles.

Sam choked back a laugh. Underneath was this .

Who was this man? Was Sam really witnessing what he thought he was witnessing?

Because this didn’t align at all with the man he knew.

Something squirmed uncomfortably in his gut.

Thought he knew. This was a man who would kill to protect, to avenge his family.

Whereas Sam…had a family who would rather kill him.

His teeth sank into his bottom lip, and he worried it. He supposed he couldn’t hate a man like that.

Applause broke through Sam’s thoughts. “Exceptional acting, dear brother. Worthy of the stage at Drury Lane,” Lady Felicity said.

Sam’s gaze darted her way, and his eyes flared wide. Lady Felicity’s smile grew, so obvious in her glee at catching him staring at her brother. Heat slapped his cheeks, and he cursed himself. He removed all expression from his face. He didn’t bloody blush, damn it.

He strode to her with purpose and purposely avoided looking in Bentley’s direction. It didn’t prevent Sam from being completely aware of Bentley’s stare boring into him, however.

He stopped before Lady Felicity. “His Grace requests your presence at the observation floor of the Corner Tower.”

Lady Felicity blinked up at him, her mouth parting in a small moue. Like she was surprised the Duke would ask for her. Sam wasn’t sure why it would be surprising. Ash was daft, yes, but he was clearly besotted with the woman.

“When did the Duke return? He was absent for dinner…”

“He returned some thirty minutes ago.” His gaze darted to the wringing hands in her lap.

He almost laughed. She was nervous. Christ, these two.

Apparently, love made people nitwits. These two were clearly in love and destined to spend the rest of their lives together. One had to be blind to miss it.

“Just enough time to wash and then he requested your presence,” Sam said gently.

Her frame eased, and her amber eyes, so similar to her brother’s, lit up, her entire demeanor brightening. Then her lip curled up slightly on one side, and her gaze turned devious. Sam took an abrupt step back. That look was terrifying. He was well aware this woman was a force to be reckoned with.

“Thank you, Mr. Thorne. I will go to the Duke immediately.” Her voice was as sweet as her honey-colored eyes.

He extended the note, still on edge with her behavior. “You’ll want to read that before you make your way to the tower.”

She nodded and started in the direction of the library doors.

“Oh, and, Pandoraaa,” she sang cheerily over her shoulder.

“I just had the most wonderful idea. Do you not think it would be most beneficial if you practiced your waltzing with Felix?” Thorne’s heart stalled.

“As he is not familiar, it will help build your confidence dancing with strangers.”

Shite. He knew exactly where this was going.

His gaze bounced from Lady Felicity to Lady Pandora and Bentley.

Pandora spun, her broomstick nearly cracking into Bentley’s skull, but the man managed to jump out of the way just in time.

Sam wouldn’t mind being knocked unconscious by a broomstick right now. Because—

“That’s a brilliant idea! We should go practice straight away!”

“I love your enthusiasm, darling. Oh, and how perfect with Mr. Thorne here. Mr. Thorne, you will play for them, yes?”

That. Because that . He glared at Lady Felicity, and her smile only widened.

“Splendid. Thank you for being so agreeable, Mr. Thorne.” She fluttered her eyes innocently and then left.

She was meddling. Sam had no idea how she even knew there was something to meddle in. Not that there was anything to meddle in. There was a complete absence of meddle-worthiness between him and Bentley. Obviously. He dragged a hand down his face. Bloody hell.

So, perhaps, a small lie. But playing piano for the man?

That was personal for Sam. That’s where he’d dealt with the endless emotions suffocating him after his family’s betrayal.

He’d worked out so much of his anger and bitterness on those ivory keys.

Perhaps because it was something his father had never approved of.

But it had been Sam’s outlet, allowing the agonizing despair to flow from him into the music instead.

It had been how he coped. And in turn, it made Sam feel exposed, ripped wide open.

That wasn’t something he ever wanted to feel around Bentley.

His gaze slowly swept up Bentley’s form, and he hated that he knew what that man looked like underneath those layers, especially with the man flushed from exertion.

It was too close to— no, not thinking those thoughts .

His eyes finally met Bentley’s amber irises that were guarded, closed off.

Apparently, they were both wary of spending time together.

Lady Pandora tugged on Bentley’s hand, and his attention fell to the young blonde woman. “Come on, Lord Bentley. You will waltz with me, won’t you?” She smiled up at him, blue eyes brimming with hope and admiration.

Bentley’s lips slipped into a soft smile, his body relaxing, everything about him from his gaze to his stance becoming friendly . Something Sam had never experienced. It was only ever loathing or lust with him.

“Felix, please, Pandora,” Bentley said. “No formalities with friends, yes?”

Pandora nodded and bounced on her toes. “No formalities,” she agreed. “And friends help each other waltz.” She shot Bentley a cheeky smile.

Bentley nodded solemnly. “Most definitely. That is right up there with fencing matches and playing snapdragon.”

“Perfect!” Pandora bounded toward the library doors. “Make haste, gentlemen!” She spun in the doorway, and gripped the sides of her skirts, lowering into a curtsy. “We must dance ,” she said with great bravado.

Thorne’s lips twitched, and he followed Lord Bentley out of the library.

He was not looking forward to this. But at least he had a nice view of the man’s arse while they journeyed to the ballroom.

Damn the man. He had a bloody nice arse.