Page 130 of Enemies with an Earl
Confused looks passed over a few members of the group while Ryker cackled.
“Stallion?” Dunmore asked aloud. “As in a kept man?” His eyes widened. “Oh.” His tone deepened. “Ohhh.” He pursed his lips. “Well, that explains why Bentley looked like he wanted to murder Lady Camoys last night. And explains why she’s been panting after him all these years with no luck.” A low laugh escaped him. “Then the poor dove manages to set her sights on an unavailable option yet again with you. Bentley’s man, to boot. The irony is delicious.”
Not exactly something Sam found palatable. But sure, delicious. “Obviously, we have quite a few problems to tackle here.”
“They’re nothing,” Ryker interrupted. “There isn’t a person in this room who wouldn’t move heaven and earth for Bentley. And that means you, too, Dalreoch. You’re one of us now. We protect what’s ours.”
Sam’s mouth worked soundlessly, once again at a complete loss for words at what had just come out of the man’s mouth. But for an altogether different reason. He swallowed thickly. He supposed he could see a bit of the man’s charm now.
“Bentley and his family have shown up for almost every person in this room. I will never be able to repay his father and mother for what they did for me when I was younger,” Kozington said to the quiet room.
“I feel much the same,” came Lord Rutledge’s deep baritone. “The Bentleys stood beside my wife when she faced scandal. I will always support their family however they need.”
Sam’s chest went light, buzzing with warmth. This must be what it was like to have a supportive family. He glanced toward Ash, whose lips were curved in a soft smile, a knowing glint in his blue gaze.See, mate? There is good in this world.
Their conversation back in Ash’s bedchamber all those months ago flitted back through Sam’s memory. The one where he’d looked beseechingly at his friend, desperately hoping his friend would give him a reason to hold on to hope.“Imagine what the world would be like,”he’d said.“If there were more people like you, Ash.”And now he was in a room surrounded by them.
“I have no doubt,” Sam said gruffly, past the emotion thick in his throat, “that with the minds in this room, we can find solutions. Bentley has already come up with a plan, which some of you have already taken part in. But to be frank, it’s the wrong plan. So, I want us to come up with a new one. One that allows for two aristocratic men—one with a damning past, and both who will be very much in the eye of society—to be together. And the biggest challenge in all of this will be convincing Bentley of its viability.”
“What’s happening here?” Felix’s rich baritone silenced the room from where he stood motionless in the doorway.
Stares darted between Felix and Sam, but Felix’s was locked steadily on Sam. Unreadable.
“If you all wouldn’t mind,” Sam said. “I’d appreciate a moment alone with Bentley.”
Ash stepped forward, the Duke of Devonford taking charge. “Drawing room, men. We’ll return to finish this when they’re ready.”
The men murmured their farewells, the study emptying.
Ash sidled up to him. “You well?” he said for Sam’s ears alone.
Sam managed a nod. Even if the swarm of botflies in Sam’s stomach said otherwise.
Ash nodded, nudged Sam’s shoulder softly in encouragement, and then left to join the rest of the men.
That was the last of the group.
They were alone again.
Sam. Felix. And everything between them.
65
Felix
Felixstoodastepinside his study…the last of the members ofThe Harborageslipping by him. He watched Sam warily but gained nothing from those closed-off grey eyes.
Fitzy and Gigi had invited him over to visit with little Oliver. It had been exactly what his aching soul had needed. That little babe—pure, innocent, untouched by life’s cruelties. And for a fleeting time, with his nephew asleep in his arms, he’d found a moment’s reprieve from the hollow desolation clinging to him.
The last thing he’d expected upon returning home was stumbling upon a meeting being held inhisoffice.The Harboragegathered without him. Led by Sam?
“Would you please close the door?” Sam asked quietly. “I have some things I’d like to discuss, if you don’t mind.”
Felix slid the door shut. “All right, Dalreoch, let’s hear it.”
Sam’s grey gaze lit on fire. “Sam,” he growled out. “It’s fucking Sam, Felix. We are in the safety ofyour home, or did you forget that? Or have you so quickly moved on?”
Felix looked away. It was too hard to refer to him as Sam. He needed the safety of the formality, his heart needed the protection. He had nothing left, just a shell of a man. And shells, with the slightest pressure, cracked. Fractured.
