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Eliza released a heavy sigh, raising and lowering her shoulders. “He’s the one who proposed to me. I asked him once about all of this and he told me it wasn’t my place. He’s a captain in the British Army and he feels very strongly about these things.” She pulled her braid over her shoulder and tightened the white ribbon at the end. “He is a very determined man, so I didn’t argue with him on that point. But I knew I couldn’t accept him until I had more time to come to terms with all of this. And study it out, as Father told me to do.”
Thomas’s face went white. “What is his last name?”
Eliza raised her brows at his pointed question. The terrified look in his handsome face made her grip her braid. “Who? Samuel?”
He stilled and stared at her, his voice a hoarse whisper. “What was his last name?”
“Samuel’s just an old family friend. I’ve known him for years—”
“Tell me, Eliza.” Thomas rose slowly, with a darkness behind his gaze that turned his eyes into a terrible stormy blue. His fingers curled when he asked again. “What is Samuel’s last name?”
“Martin. His last name is Martin.”
Chapter Fourteen
Thomas didn’t stop, didn’t look back. He walked straight through the cold to Nathaniel’s home. If he didn’t talk to someone he would explode.
Darkness settled on the trees and houses around him, amplifying the heaviness he now carried. If he thought his load was oppressive before, it now crushed him.
The situation was a thousand times worse than he’d imagined. Samuel was not merely looking for him, he was looking for the woman he loved, the woman he hoped to marry. Samuel would no doubt kill him if he found where she was. He wouldn’t even have time to explain he’d done it to protect her—from him!
A violent revolt brewed in his stomach. He shoved his fingers through his hair and growled as he contemplated this disaster. Not to mention how the thought of that man and Eliza being married made his lungs burn. Thank goodness she hadn’t given him an answer yet. And he hoped when she did, the answer would be no.
He stomped across the soggy ground, splattering mud as he went. Samuel Martin. What a rat. Did she have any idea about him? Did she know what he was really like and what he had done? She couldn’t possibly know or she wouldn’t esteem the vile man as she did. The question burned in his skull. Should he tell her? Would she even believe him? He reached Nathaniel’s darkened house and settled on a conclusion. It was best not to say anything to Eliza. At least not now. Maybe never.
Thomas pounded on Nathaniel’s door harder than usual. When it didn’t open instantly, he pounded again.
Finally the door flew open. Nathaniel’s initial look of concern intensified when he saw who waited on his stoop. “Thomas, what’s wrong? I thought you were going to break the door down.” His banyan hung open revealing his rumpled nightshirt and a pair of breeches he’d obviously just pulled on.
Thomas didn’t wait to be asked in. He pushed past his friend and walked straight into the main room. Nathaniel closed the door and followed him with the candle.
“Please, come right in. And don’t worry about the mud on your boots, I’ll clean it up.”
Consumed by every terrible scenario, Thomas could only glare at his friend’s attempt at being jocular.
“Are you going to tell me what’s got you so riled? Or would you prefer to simply continue glaring at me while I try and guess your distress?” Nathaniel set the candle down on his oak desk and went to the large stone fireplace. “Did Eliza not care for the gifts?”
Thomas paced for another moment, clenching and relaxing his fists, breathing deeply through his nose. How could he form the words? They were too odious to speak.
After stoking the fire, Nathaniel leaned against his desk and folded his arms across his chest. “Out with it.”
Using an army’s worth of fortitude, Thomas forced his legs to stop moving and glared at the floor, speaking through gritted teeth. “It’s Samuel.”
“Samuel? What are you talking about? Who is Samuel—the Samuel?”
Thomas could tell his friend tried to make light of it, but that only reddened his anger. He hit his fist on the mantel. “Nathaniel this is no time to be trivial. Eliza just informed me that Samuel Martin—the very same man who blackmailed me—is the man who proposed to her.” He wiped his hand across his face and looked up at the ceiling, before letting his arms drop heavy at his sides. “She says she’s known him for years. You know what this means, don’t you?”
Nathaniel’s expression dropped. He exhaled deeply then closed and opened his eyes again while his voice remained low. “He’ll be frantically looking for her, as well as you. Did you tell her about him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t. Not right now. I need to sort this out first.”
Another rapping on the door shot through the silence of the room.
“Who could that be?” Thomas asked, irritated.
