Page 81 of Tempting the Marquess

Alexander folded his arms and glared. “What the hell is going on, William? Never thought I’d hear that sort of filth from you, but if you don’t apologize at once, I’ll put a bullet in your other shoulder so you have a matchingpair.”

Incredulous, William looked at his former best friend, his face remaining expressionless only by sheer force of will. Rage boiled again, the urge to leap out of bed and commit unspeakable violence overwhelming. “It would have been so much neater if I’d actually died in France, wouldn’t it? But I survived to come home to the pleasure of your news. So many people told me about the two of you, the secret visits at all hours of the day and night, but I didn’t believe them. It wasn’t until I...” William halted, even more furious at what he’d nearly blurted out. He hadn’t seen or heard anything at the Westleigh ball. Only David Underwoodhad.

“Until you what?” Alexander replied icily.

“Until...I saw you today. Holding hands, and witnessing your beloved’s newly delicate constitution. For once the gossip was true. I never thought two people could stoop so low, especially the man supposedly my oldest friend and the woman I...well, obviously I was utterly wrong about both ofyou.”

“William—”

“Let me finish, Southby. Just for fun, I’ll guess the reason that brought you together. Hmmm. Some relative left a fortune for Lady Samantha if she married no lower than a duke? Or perhaps you are dying of some terrible disease, and she selflessly offered herself as a loving companion for your few remainingdays?”

“William—”

“Don’t say another word, your grace. The pair of you are revolting. So I say for the third time, get the hell out of my house and don’t ever return, or I will be the one doing the shooting.”

Alexander blinked, his frigid rage easing. “I cannot believe my ears. You truly think Samantha and I...together...” he spluttered, then to compound his multitude of crimes, the bastard actually started to laugh. Indeed, Alexander Langley, the man who rarely even thawed enough to smile, was laughing.

“What the hell is so amusing?” William bitout.

“The thought of such a thing being true. No offence, William, or to you, Samantha,” Alexander said over his shoulder to where she was still huddled beside the chamber pot. “But I like my women...milder. Significantly sweeter of temperament. Less inclined to partake in acts of violence.”

“Did I say go bathe in the Thames before, Alexander?” snapped Samantha, dabbing her mouth with the cool cloth as she slowly got to her feet. “I meant drown.”

“See what I mean, William? But my main prerequisite for a wife is that they care for me rather than someone else. Hell, I’m famished. Mrs. Kingsley, do you think there might be something in the kitchens for a late lunch?”

His housekeeper had the gall to curtsy and nod, and the two of them quickly departed, leaving him and Samantha alone in the chamber.

William leaned back against his pillows, his mind whirling. Alexander had sounded so bloody sincere; even their spat had appeared more brother and sister than lovers. But he’d seen them, damn it, embracing in the garden. And the assassin had said. White had said. Claremont had said. Everyone bloodyknew.

Finally, he glanced over at Samantha. She glared defiantly back at him, her hands on herhips.

“Well,” he said, just to break the silence, without a clue where to begin.

“Well,” she replied, marching to his side of the bed until he could see the flashing fury in her browneyes.

“You’re angry?”

“Do you have any idea what it’s been like here, waiting for news, hearing the worst thing possible, and not knowing if you were alive or dead? Then discovering I was going to have a baby sans husband? And finally, you calling me Alexander’s mistress?”

“So, you think to deny—” William began, his own anger returning in a rush. The widening of her eyes was his only warning before her hand connected sharply with his cheek, snapping his head back on the pillow and leaving it stinging.

“How dare you be mad at me,” she cried.

“What do you mean how dare I? It’s a perfectly reasonable way to feel in the circumstances.”

“Reasonable? Reasonable! How could you possibly think I was intimate with another man—no, not just another man, but your best friend while you were away in France risking yourlife?”

“Because you were seen in the garden at Forsyth House, Samantha. Embracing Alexander, telling him you were with child. And him saying he was so happy!”

“Seen by who?” she demanded.

“David Underwood! Although because of his...loyalty...to me, being an old family friend, he didn’t stay long. I don’t think he could stomach anymore of what hesaw.”

The rage drained from her expressive face, to be replaced by an aching sadness. Then she absently cupped and patted her belly, as though reassuring the child growing within.

“He heard wrong,” she said quietly. “And if he had stayed a little longer, he would have heard Alexander putting himself forward to be godfather.”

A boulder caught in his throat, making it hard to breathe. “The baby can’t be mine. We used a sponge.”