Page 70 of Tempting the Marquess

“Oh, darling, no,” he chided reprovingly. “We’ve just had an hour of small talk, I cannot abide a minute more. Tell me...tell me about all the young bucks who have been chasing you relentlessly since you made your come out. I’m sure you’ve been quite inundated with callers and flowers.”

“Actually, there isn’t much totell.”

“What? Never you say. I am grievously worried for the future of this great country if the gentlemen of London cannot see what a perfect little peach youare!”

“It’s not that so much,” Samantha replied, her cheekswarm.

Mr. Underwood beamed. “Aha! So you do have a beau. I knew it. Who is he? Strapping, titled, and wealthy enough to keep you like a queen, Ihope?”

Good grief, her blush had spread to her entire body. She was now a walking, talking tomato. “Well, I...ah...”

“What is the matter, pet? Surely he’s champing at the bit to put a ring on your finger. If I were a younger man, myword…”

Samantha looked away. Even though it was oddly easy to talk to David Underwood, how could she begin to explain the current situation with William? The man I love went to France on a dangerous mission. Before he left, we spent a magical night together, and now I am carrying his child. But he doesn’t know, because he was shot, and is still in France and I pray every day for his safe return. Although I don’t know whether or not he actually wants to marry me, or will ever love meback…

“Well, he’s a busy man with a great many responsibilities. And I do admire his steadfastness, even though I miss him terribly when he is…otherwise occupied.”

“I see,” said Mr. Underwood, in a voice so uncharacteristically cold, she glanced back in surprise. What had she said that was so offensive? But then his anger vanished as though it had never been, and he smiled cheerfully. “If you won’t regale me with naughty tales of young love, then tell me, hmmm, tell me something about yourself that no one else knows.”

Before she could answer, an angry fracas started behind them. They both spun around.

“Stop! Thief!” a man barked, and seconds later, a roughly-dressed youth sprinted past them clutching a leather money purse and gold fob watch.

Shockingly, her companion moved like he was about to run after the thief, but Samantha grabbed hishand.

“Wait,” she hissed. Yanking open her reticule, she pulled her dagger from its leather casing, turned, and threw it hard at the fleeing criminal in one thankfully smooth movement. To her amused delight, the dagger embedded itself in the youth’s backside, and he fell face-first onto the ground, howling like a hungry toddler. Old Gwen would have nodded with stern approval at that throw.

Unfortunately, David Underwood wasn’t nearly so admiring.

“Samantha!” he choked out, actually looking rather ill. And his fists were clenched, too, like he was furiously angry.

OhGod.

“Look, everyone!” she yelled. “See what Mr. Underwood did! He stopped the thief!”

Applause and cheers rang out from the gathering crowd. Hastily, her companion inclined his head and hurried over to the trapped youth to take back the money purse and watch, as well as her dagger, which he slipped into the lacy cuff of his shirtsleeve.

“Much obliged to you, sir” said the owner of the stolen goods, and Samantha whipped out her fan and waved it front of her face as though the excitement was toomuch.

Mr. Underwood awkwardly shook the man’s hand. “Er, no trouble. No trouble at all, my good man. Can’t allow injustice to go unpunished. But we must beoff.”

Aunt Jane and Caroline were still talking with some passersby, but Mr. Underwood re-tucked Samantha’s arm through his, and almost dragged her along the path severalfeet.

“Well, Uncle David,” she said defiantly, although her voice trembled a little. “You said you wanted to know something about me that no one else knew. Now youdo.”

He stared at her for the longest moment, then he chortled and handed her back the dagger. “Indeed, baby Sam, indeed. My word, aren’t you full of surprises! What a skill for a young lady to have. I’m desperately curious to know where you learned to do that, but darling Janey is charging toward us to save your virtue. So unnecessary. I’m not at all interested in ruining my clothing with twigs and grass and dirt. The good Lord created beds for a reason.”

Samantha smiled as she swiftly wiped the dagger with a corner of her pelisse, then tucked it back into her reticule, but the thrill of her perfectly executed throw had dulled to be replaced by acute unease. She had shocked a man she thought unshockable. The way he’d looked at her…almost like she had betrayed him. And that had been a horrible sensation.

In the future, she would need to be far more ladylike.

Or at leasttry.