Page 50

Sam

Sam made his way down the stairs, heading for Felix’s study.

The man should be finishing up his meeting with a Mr. Campbell, the stable master’s son.

Apparently, Felix and his current steward were working with the young man to prepare him to one day take over the role of steward.

He had a good head for mathematics and was familiar with the Bentley tenants and agricultural practices, having grown up on the estate.

Not exactly common practice for a lord to work directly with an apprentice of sorts, nor taking on a stable master’s son for the role.

But apparently, the Bentley stable master was also Lady Bentley’s lover , one she’d been with since Felix had been a young lad.

So, Mr. Campbell’s son…was akin to a step-sibling, Sam supposed, which was why Felix wanted to aid the man in building a secure future.

Sam was starting to notice a pattern with Felix.

Security and protection were very important to him, for him and those he cared about.

The morning had been full of unexpected revelations about the unconventional Bentley family as they’d lounged together, idly chatting in the slow, sleepy hours of dawn.

A smile spread across Sam’s face as he turned down the hall that led to Felix’s study.

A week of waking tangled up in Felix. It had been, in a word, glorious.

They hadn’t actually left the bedroom all that often.

Except for when they’d taken advantage of the rare sunny September day in a week of almost constant rain and went for a ride.

Felix had wanted to show Sam his estate.

Sam’s heart gave an extra hard thump. The man was so proud of the Bentley estate and his tenants.

His amber eyes had glowed with passion, his hands gesturing animatedly when he discussed the new agricultural practices they were putting into place.

Something about a fairly recent invention he’d been following—steam-powered threshing machines.

But that brought about other challenges, because Felix was not content with his tenants being put out of work.

Christ, the man cared deeply about his people.

It had been too much for Sam, had things he wasn’t ready to explore swirling around in his chest. It was like all the love that had been missing from Sam’s family existed inside that one beautiful man.

So, he’d maneuvered them into a small copse of trees, dragged Felix from his horse, and buried the emotion beneath a hasty frotting session.

He thought Felix might be doing something similar.

Any time they came close to touching on the subject of what had passed between them back in May, Felix would find a new clever way to distract them both from the heavy subject.

The man’s tongue was made for sin. And there was no rush to delve into the topic.

It had only been a week. They were slowly learning the smaller details about each other, and Sam was thoroughly enjoying the discovery process.

They couldn’t live in bed for the rest of their lives, though.

Which was what brought Sam here now. Sam paused at the doorway of Felix’s study, gaze landing on the man’s amber curls, head bent over some parchment.

A black-haired man sat opposite him, back to Sam.

Sam had jested about being Felix’s kept man.

And it had been especially diverting pretending for a sennight.

But seeing Felix’s fervent devotion to his estate, how he had a purpose , reminded Sam that… he didn’t have one.

All his life, he’d been the Duke of Devonford’s valet.

He and Ash against the world, a world that seemed to not give a bloody damn about either of them.

They were always going to grow old together, two rickety old coves.

But now he was no longer a valet, could no longer lean on his best friend.

And that had come with a startling realization.

Sam had spent so much of his life hiding, hiding himself away from the threat of his past, the threat of being hurt again, that he’d lost himself somewhere along the way.

What in the bloody hell did a man of two-and-forty do with his life?

He’d been focused solely on the daunting task of showing up at Thornfield Hall, declaring himself, terrified he was alone in feeling that perhaps there was something worth exploring between him and Felix.

He’d forgotten to think about what happened next.

Logistics , Felix had said. Sam should probably think about bloody logistics more often.

At that moment, Felix glanced up, gaze finding Sam leaning in the doorway.

And fuck Sam, because the man’s face lit up, a smile bursting free, dimple and all.

Lord, that glowing amber gaze was like a shot straight through the heart.

No wonder Sam didn’t think about logistics.

He’d be Fee’s kept man if Felix looked at him like that for the rest of his days.

No. Stop, Sam . Sam was acting like a besotted fool.

Hell. He was a besotted fool, wasn’t he?

“Mr. Thorne,” Felix said. “Please come in. I’m almost finished here with Mr. Campbell.”

Felix gestured for Sam to approach his desk. “Mr. Thorne, this is my stable master’s son, Mr. Weston Campbell. Campbell, I’m sure you haven’t had a chance to meet my new valet. I was singing your praises to Thorne this morning while preparing for the day.” Felix bestowed a smile on the lad.

The young man in question straightened from where he’d been bent over whatever was on Felix’s desk, cheeks pink from his master’s praise. A pair of stark blue eyes met Sam’s. “Pleased tae meet you, sir,” the man said with a smile, a twinge of Scottish brogue laced in his words.

Sam’s jaw went slack, his mind emptying except for a low buzzing. Because the man sitting before him was…Felix. What in the bloody hell? His gaze pinged between the two men. Had someone laced his tea this morning? Because he must be soused to be seeing what he was seeing.

But, no.

The same high cheekbones. The same soft jaw. The same much-too-full lips.

Sam’s gaze shot to Felix, sweeping over him quickly before going back to Mr. Campbell. Similar build, Campbell holding the leanness of youth. The only difference was their coloring.

There was no bloody way.

Uncertainty flashed back at him while he continued to stare dumbfounded at the poor young man. But Lord save him, even the dimple popping in the man’s cheek was the same.

“Thorne…” Felix’s voice prodded his thoughts. “Are you well?”

“My apologies,” he rushed out, chuckling awkwardly. He glanced between the two men, Felix looking at him with concern, Mr. Campbell shifting with clear discomfort. “This will sound inane, but I couldn’t help noticing how similar you both look. You could be taken for brothers. It took me aback.”

Mr. Campbell’s blue eyes widened, alarm glinting in their depths, and he abruptly shot to his feet.

Sam’s jaw went slack for a second time. Holy shite.

The man was as tall as Sam. As Sam . Sam was six foot bloody four.

He supposed that was the Scottish lineage making an appearance.

That was where Sam had gotten his height as well.

The lad laughed nervously, clasping his hands together awkwardly. “That is—” He glanced quickly at Felix. “Well, quite the compliment. I should be going.”

“Good morning, boys!” Lady Bentley’s sing-song greeting floated through the study. She swept into the room, blue eyes glowing as she smiled at them each in turn.

Which only had Sam frowning. High cheekbones.

Slim, straight nose. Soft jawline. Sam had always thought it remarkable how Felix, Lady Bentley, and Felicity all looked like replicas of one another, albeit Felix and Felicity were fiery in color as opposed to their mother’s rose-gold.

But glancing between Lady Bentley, Fee, and Mr. Campbell… There appeared to be a fourth replica.

“Is something amiss?” Lady Bentley’s soft-rose brows pinched together, her gaze raking over Mr. Campbell, who was twitching as though he wanted to flee from the room.

Felix smiled warmly at his mother, stepping around his desk to buss her on the cheek.

“It’s nothing. Mr. Thorne had just made an amusing assessment—that Mr. Campbell and I look so alike we could pass as brothers.

” Felix chuckled. “Not sure what he’s seeing, as I’m all amber and freckles, in contrast to Mr. Campbell’s jet-black hair and blue eyes. ”

And now Lady Bentley’s eyes were owl wide. Her mouth opened, but all that came out was a soft “oh.”

Felix’s brows drew together, and he glanced between his mother’s and Mr. Campbell’s alarmed expressions. Felix laughed again, but this time it was uneasy. “Why has it become so awkward in here all of a sudden?” He glanced back at Sam. “It was just an inane comment, as you had said…”

Sam rolled his lips in and arched a brow. But was it? The stable master was Lady Bentley’s lover, a lover she’d had for a very long time… Sam wasn’t exactly sure how a woman could hide carrying a child, but the similarities were impossible to ignore.

“This is ridiculous,” Felix said, his smile wavering. “Mr. Campbell had a son when you met him, didn’t he, Mother?”

His mother pursed her lips, her gaze drifting away as she contemplated the question with furrowed brows…as though it wasn’t the simple question it was.

Felix’s mouth popped open at her silence, and he spun to face Mr. Campbell. “How old are you, Weston?”

Mr. Campbell’s eyes went even wider. He swallowed audibly. “E-eighteen.”

Felix spun back to his mother. “You had said—” He cut off, gaze going to the ceiling as he clearly racked his brain for something.

“No, Father had told me. You can have a similar arrangement in your marriage as your mother and me. I came into the marriage with my Hannah, and your mother came to be with Mr. Campbell when you were eleven .”