Catching the Baron Page 4

  She paced the room, cleaning invisible specks from every surface until her nerves made her want to run from the house. Luckily before she could dart out, the baron appeared in her doorway again. He hung the heavy wood as if it were weightless and then shot her a smile before closing the door.

  When he knocked, she darted across the room and grasped the latch. Closing her eyes, she sent up a silent prayer. Too long had the ruined door plagued her. She lightly pulled and the door swung open without resistance. Surprised and thrilled, she shut it again and reopened it. His amused face greeted her.

  “It works. The door really works. Thank you, my lord. I wish I could repay you.”

  He held up his hand. “No. Remember this was done under the agreement that I shall take nothing in return.”

  “You’re right. I’m simply grateful.”

  “That’s all I wanted to hear.” He grinned at her.

  She shyly smiled back and then shuffled her feet, unsure of what to do next. He didn’t move or make any indication he intended to leave. Time stretched awkwardly.

  “May I come in?” he asked finally.

  She tentatively took a step back. Although she wanted to show her gratitude, she wasn’t sure how.

  “Certainly, my lord.”

  When he stepped inside, embarrassment engulfed her as his tall frame made her house appear miniscule. It only took him half a second to take in the surroundings before his eyes landed back on her. She tried to regulate her breathing as she wrung her hands. The thought occurred to her that unlike their other adventures, she was a woman alone with a man. A handsome man. A man who through kindness had earned a small place in her affections.

  Thoughts immediately drew her gaze to his lips. They were turned up in a smile, but her wandering mind imagined how they would look before they touched hers.

  “May I sit?”

  “Oh, um . . . yes. Please.”

  Turning to the table, she wanted to sink into the floor. Scooping all her clean laundry into a basket, she kicked it under the table and lifted her hand to indicate he take the good chair. Then her eyes settled on the bad one. She knew the seat would not carry her own weight, let alone his.

  With a silent prayer, she sat on the edge. Her breath held and luckily so did the chair. When he settled across from her, his brown eyes delved into her as if he could see into her very soul. She swallowed.

  “How long have you and Sam lived here?” he asked as his gaze flickered over the single straw bed across the room.

  She racked her brain trying to come up with an explanation for one bed and two people. Then she paused, raised an eyebrow, and straightened her back. Challenging him to ask the impertinent question.

  “A few months. The house isn’t grand, but we’re comfortable here.”

  He nodded. “Where—”

  At that moment her chair cracked and then banged against the floor. She fell backwards with her legs up. Pain shot through her head as it made contact with the wall behind her. The injury didn’t amount to anything compared to the mortification scorching her face.

  “Are you all right?” he asked as he clasped her arm and pulled her to her feet.

  Tears stung her eyes as he looked upon her with concern. This couldn’t have possibly gone any worse. In an effort to end the torture, she ducked her head down and ran from the room. Before he had a chance to follow her, she scurried around to the back of the house.

  “Miss Samantha,” he called, but she ignored him.

  Crawling through the window of the dilapidated house beside hers, she acted like a frightened child and hid. Hurried footsteps moved about outside as he periodically called her name. She didn’t move. Her only thought centered on how she could never face him again nor return to her house.

  After an indeterminable amount of time, she heard him mount his horse and cantor off. She heaved a sigh of relief and fell to the floor. Why did her life have to become more complicated?

  She slipped back into her house and donned her Sam costume. Although she preferred to remain as herself when she wasn’t at the stable, a lone woman wandering about asked for trouble.

  For the remainder of the day she searched for another place to live. Unfortunately, most of the other locations that would still be close to town and Berwick were occupied or uninhabitable.

  Depression settled over her like a dark cloud as she shuffled home. The sight greeting her when she opened the door made her vision blur as her heart fluttered inside her chest.

  Two beautiful matching chairs sat beside her table and all signs of the rotted ones were gone. She was unworthy of his kindness. Guilt swam in her stomach. He could never learn she was lying to him.

  Chapter 4

  Kenneth tossed his brandy back and tapped his anxious fingers against the glass. He had no idea why his two friends, Charles Gunther, Viscount Hockley, and Michael Davins, Baron Froste, decided to come for a visit. He didn’t want to be stuck here in his study. After sending Miss Samantha those chairs yesterday, he thought of nothing but seeing her reaction.

  The girl, like her brother, had trouble accepting help, but he wouldn’t allow that to deter him. Something about those two reached a part deep inside of him, and he didn’t intend to leave them alone until he determined what it was.

  “Berwick, are you even listening to a word we’re saying?” Froste asked.

  Kenneth blinked and looked at the two expectant faces, his mind blank.

  “That’s an answer if I ever heard one,” Hockley replied for him. “So tell us what or who is occupying your mind.”

  “It’s a woman.” Froste settled back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Anything less couldn’t have pulled him away from our scintillating conversation.”

  Shaking his head, Kenneth silently cursed his friends. “It’s not a woman. Since I’ve inherited Berwick, I’ve had a number of things on my mind.”

  “Too many to care about a card tournament?” Hockley sounded outraged.

  They were right. Kenneth felt an interest rising within him, but quickly squelched the feeling. That life was past him now. Although he loved the game and the rush with every hand, time after time his lack of skill had been proven. In addition, his inability to know when to quit had brought suffering to more than one person.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he met Hockley’s gaze. “Yes. As you know, gambling is no longer one of my interests.”

  “In excess, yes, but surely you can handle one hand or two.” Froste seemed appalled at the idea of never gambling again.

  Kenneth knew his own weakness. And he wouldn’t stop at one game.

  “If that is all you wanted to discuss, I’ll leave you to it.”

  Without waiting for an answer, Kenneth strode from the room. His friends meant well, but they couldn’t understand the difficulty in saying no. Far too long he’d been controlled by gambling, and he’d be damned if he allowed it to happen again.

  Outside he started directly for the stable. Luck stood on his side as he saw Sam immediately. However, when their eyes made contact, the boy quickly disappeared inside the building. Kenneth paused for a moment. Why would Sam want to avoid him? Had Samantha said something to the boy?

  Determined to find out, Kenneth marched into the stable. Oliver’s eyes widened, but he squeezed his lips closed and didn’t respond.

  “Sam, I require your assistance,” Kenneth said as he’d done every day when he collected the boy for their adventures. Instead of the normal bright-eyed response, Kenneth was greeted with a bowed head and shuffling feet.

  Further irritated, Kenneth narrowed his eyes. This day couldn’t possibly get any worse. The world had turned against him, and he’d done nothing to deserve it. Unwilling to wait any longer, he spun around and stormed out, not stopping until he reached his favorite spot.

  The edge of the cliff had appealed to him since he’d been a young boy. Seeing proof of the violent nature of the land helped him put certain aspects of his own life in perspective.

&
nbsp; “You wanted to see me, my lord?” The puny voice brought out his rage.

  Whipping around, he glared at the boy, then began to pace the few feet along the edge of the drop off.

  “How many times have I told you not to ‘my lord’ me? And you’re cowering ten feet away from me as if I’m a monster? What have I done to deserve this?”

  When no response came, he halted his furious steps and whirled on Sam.

  “Nothing.”

  The one word answer nearly sent him over the edge. He threw up his hands in frustration. Why did the boy have to be so difficult? He challenged. He questioned. He disobeyed. On one hand Kenneth admired him and looked upon him as a friend, but on the other, he wanted to shake some sense into the boy.

  “Is it your sister?” Kenneth finally asked.

  Sam’s body went rigid. “Stay away from her.”

  “Why? I’ve done nothing to harm her. Did she tell you I had?”

  “No.” Sam kicked the dirt at his feet. “She just . . . she likes to be alone.”

  “Is that why she makes you work? Why she relaxes at home, leaving her young brother with no childhood?” Kenneth spat the words as his anger mounted. His fists clenched. He wanted to rail at the boy but held himself back.

  Sam’s hands fisted as he stomped toward Kenneth. “Don’t you dare question us, or how we live. She works. She works harder than you’ve ever had to in your life. Don’t judge us. Don’t judge her.”

  Sam stood only a foot away, red faced and chest heaving. At this distance, Kenneth was struck by how similar the two siblings looked. Seeing the glorious rage spread across the high cheekbones and full parted lips made him feel . . . No, it didn’t.

  Spinning around, Kenneth shoved his hands into his pockets and mentally shook himself. It was the sister. Thoughts of Samantha’s rage made him feel something. Not Sam’s. Their likeness confused him, and his body couldn’t keep the two people straight. He needed to see Samantha again.

  “I’m sorry for my mistaken assumption.” His voice emerged harsher than he intended. “But I will not stay away from your sister.”

  A heavy sigh sounded behind him. “Why not? She is nothing to you.”

  “That may be, but every good relat . . . friendship must begin somewhere. I won’t hurt her. I want to help.”

  “She’s not going to like it. Don’t expect her to simply open the door and act as if you belong there.”

  Kenneth peered over at Sam. The boy had crossed his arms, but resignation shone on his face. His thoughts were indecipherable, and Kenneth would have given anything to know what ran through his mind at that moment.

  Hours later, Kenneth paced outside Samantha’s diminutive house. Had she purposely made herself unavailable in order to avoid him? Impatience simmered inside him, giving him the urge to pound something.

  Movement down the street drew his attention. Sam came toward him looking more carefree and happy than he’d ever seen him. That was the life he wanted for the boy. No worries. No obligations. No trouble. His own childhood had been overshadowed with the three of those in abundance, but it shouldn’t have been. His father had been too involved with Kenneth’s aunt to spend enough time with his own family. However, it no longer mattered. Those memories belonged in the past.

  The moment Sam’s eyes touched Kenneth, his petite frame stiffened. Sighing, Kenneth ran a hand through his hair. Why did the boy have to react negatively? His interest in Samantha should have no impact on their friendship.

  “What are you doing here?” Sam demanded in an irritated tone Kenneth hadn’t heard from him before.

  Folding his arms across his chest, Kenneth looked down his nose at the boy. “Not that it is any of your concern, but I told you I intended to see your sister again.”

  “Then see her and leave. You don’t need to hang about.”

  “She isn’t here. I’ve been waiting for her to return for quite some time.”

  Sam continued past him and approached the door. “Then she’s still working. I’ll tell her you stopped by.”

  As if expecting Kenneth to accept the dismissal, Sam entered the house, but Kenneth caught the door before it could be slammed in his face. He gritted his teeth and waited for the anger to subside. Pausing before he responded had been the only way he knew of to contain his irritation with the boy.

  “I can wait.”

  “All right, but don’t expect me to wait with you.”

  After grabbing several items from around the room, Sam marched out the door and slammed it behind him. Kenneth stared at the closed door, wondering why the boy couldn’t be as simple as others his age.

  Samantha dove into the cool water and cleansed her hair and body as quickly as she could. Baron Berwick sat waiting for her inside her house. The thought brought both excitement and knots to her stomach.

  Yanking her dress over her head, she stopped. Why was she jumping at his command? He didn’t own her, and she owed him nothing. In an effort to stop herself from returning home, she made her way into town. If nothing else, Francine could offer her a distraction.

  Unfortunately when she rounded the corner toward her friend’s house, she saw Francine with Mr. Lemange. She wanted to double back, but the man’s beady eyes settled on her. Silently cursing her foolishness, she stood and waited for him to approach.

  He grabbed her arm and began to lead her away from Francine. To not cause a scene, she reluctantly went with him. Her rash decision got her into this predicament, and she would have to figure a way out.

  “Miss Jenkins, how fortuitous to see you. I’ve been trying to locate you for months,” Mr. Lemange began. “Have you found a new place to live? That isn’t well done of you considering your father failed to settle his debt with me.”

  “I’m sorry to hear my father’s death negatively impacted you. However, since the fire has made me unable to confirm or deny your accusation, I’m left with no options. In addition, your failure to maintain the property caused the incident in the first place. It is I who am owed reparations.”

  “Please,” Francine interjected, appearing beside them. “Don’t leave me behind. Mr. Lemange, you did agree to have dinner with my family, after all.”

  “I apologize, my dear,” Mr. Lemange’s eyes sparkled as he took in them both. He released Samantha’s arm as he moved closer to Francine. “How could I forget?”

  “Don’t worry. I will not let you.” Francine batted her eyelashes at him.

  Their openly flirtatious manner made Samantha want to roll her eyes. With the glances Mr. Lemange continually shot her, he intended to make her jealous. And Francine apparently fought for her comfortable life.

  After looking up at the sky as if to gauge the time, Samantha smiled at the pair. “It was nice seeing you both, but I must be on my way.”

  “But-” Mr. Lemange started.

  “Good to see you as well.” Francine grabbed Mr. Lemange’s arm. “We were just about to go in.”

  Appreciating the escape, Samantha continued down the street, hoping Mr. Lemange took note of her direction. The second he was out of sight, she spun around and headed home at an unhurried pace.

  Something needed to be done about Lord Berwick. She couldn’t afford the amount of beeswax it would take to cleanse her hair daily. Luckily he had left her house by the time she returned home. Part of her felt disappointed. What had he wanted? Why had he sought her out?

  The next morning as she entered the stable for work, she sighed to see the man at the center of her thoughts leaning over Hazel’s stall. Although she enjoyed their friendship and the fact that Mr. Oliver had softened up toward her, she couldn’t handle the stress of the baron’s proximity.

  “Good morning,” Samantha forced out.

  From his wide-eyed look, she realized her voice came out much harsher than she intended. Knowing it was too late to fix her blunder, she put her hands on her hips to further display her irritation with him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you. But I see I’m
not forgiven for yesterday.”

  Grabbing a rake, she began her chores. “Should I forgive you?”

  “Maybe not.” He shrugged. “Just know, what is between your sister and I shouldn’t affect us.”

  She dropped the rake and whipped around to face him, her face burning. What did he mean? Did he intend to lie about a relationship that didn’t exist between them? If so, she wouldn’t allow it.

  “And what is going on between you two? Should I be worried?”

  He tossed his hands up in front of him. “Nothing. She didn’t even come home last night. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

  Satisfied, she picked up the tool and resumed cleaning out the stall. “Good.”

  “I do wish she had come home though.”

  “You should be glad she didn’t. Samantha wouldn’t have appreciated you showing up unannounced like that.”

  “So, I’m to send a missive? What if she doesn’t receive it on time?”

  “Then you don’t get to see her. Women don’t like men barging in on them.”

  When he didn’t respond, she peered over her shoulder at Lord Berwick. He observed her with an amused smile.

  “What do you know about women?”

  After scattering the last bit of the rushes, she led Hazel to his stall and stopped before the baron. “Enough. And I’d venture to say I know more than you.”

  He laughed. The corners of his eyes crinkled up, eliciting a smile from her. Something about him, or more specifically his happiness, resonated with her. Even during all their adventures, he never emitted much joy. She wanted to bring him more. To hear his laughter every day.

  “How could you, a green boy with no life experiences to speak of, know more than a seasoned man such as myself?”