Page 36 of The Charming Words of a Common Scoundrel
Sam took a sip of ale and grimaced. “I haven’t decided.”
“Well, you have a wife who is running around with your ex-lover. Doesn’t that bother you at all? Are you really that indifferent? They are racing Lady Hawley’s phaeton around like crazy people.”
His feelings were most certainly not indifferent. She tormented his thoughts, always.
“Don’t assume you have any idea about what I know and don’t know about my wife. I am well aware of her comings and goings. I received a letter just today from Peterson about the damn two-seater phaeton Addie has.”
“Why not come back to London, instead of having Peterson spy on her?”
Sam scowled at that. “He isn’t spying on her. He is making sure she is safe.”
“But you could be doing that. Again, why are you here looking so miserable?”
Sam spun the mug in his hands, not sure what to say. At first, he did it because he wanted Clara to have a little freedom. She had traded one forced marriage for another, even if it were to save her from Dolan. Then as the papers reached him, and he read how much she was enjoying herself, he told himself he didn’t want to interrupt her life.
“I want her to live her life as she sees fit. I left to give her some room.”
“So, you have no feelings for her?”
Sam said nothing. His feelings for Clara were far more complex than he was willing to share with his brother.
“Sam? The man I saw the night of the scandal was more than saving a lady. The look on your face was pure terror that she would go with Dolan. I show up here trying to figure out what is going on and give you a thrashing for flaunting your new mistress, only to arrive at the townhouse and meet Abigail, a young woman you have secured work for. I am assuming this young woman is the same one you saved from Dolan. What is going on?”
“I brought her up here, so she could start a new life, like we discussed.”
Jack took a gulp of his ale. “You play the part of a scoundrel, but you are so damn noble.”
Noble was not what Sam saw in himself. Clara should be married to a gentleman right now, not a man who had lived almost his entire childhood in the filth and muck of Philadelphia.
“What do I do with a lady as a wife? I never wanted a wife and now I have one who deserves so much more than what I have to offer,” Sam said quietly.
Jack snorted. “What do you mean by that? You are rich, handsome, and a good man. What more could she want?”
“No matter what, she will never have a title. She was raised for that life.”
“You are a damn fool, Sam.”
Sam took another gulp of his ale. He might be a damn fool, but he knew he was right.
“That is hilarious coming from you; we moved our entire family here for you to reclaim your title.”
Jack scowled. “That’s different. It was taken from me. I was righting a wrong.”
Sam knew that. Jack wasn’t one to flaunt his title or use it to his benefit. Perhaps Jack had a point, but Sam could not shake the feeling that Clara had given up everything to be his wife.
“Maggie would be furious to see you sitting here feeling like you aren’t worthy of some lady.”
His mother would be. After Sam agreed to stay with the Kincaides, she had made it her mission to make him understand he could do anything he put his mind to and that no matter who their peers were, that he was just as deserving. For a boy who came from nothing, her dogged encouragement had made all the difference.
Chapter 14
Clara walked through the gallery looking at the paintings up for auction. They were mostly atrocious, pieces of art donated by ladies to raise money for orphans. Between the atrocities, there were gems that shined brightly, but they were limited. She walked on and her eyes connected with a familiar type of style. She instantly knew the owner of the scenic painting with blobs for animals. Her mouth curved into a smile, knowing Lord Adderly had donated some of his wife’s paintings to the cause. It made her think of her time with Sam at Adderly’s house party. She shook her head. Why was she thinking about Sam Kincaide so much today?
“Clara, come sit. We finally found a seat,” Sophia called from across the gallery.
Clara turned to see Mercy, Annie, Sophia, and Addie all settled at a table. She smiled, happy they were all becoming friends. She made her way to the table and sat next to Addie.
“Why were you looking at that painting?” Annie asked. “It’s hideous. I can’t tell what the splotches are supposed to be.”
