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"Chaos is beginning to set in—and not only among the businessmen whose ships and cargo are being destroyed. The docks are buzzing with rumors and fear. Crewmen are already demanding higher wages. Some are even refusing to sail at all, preferring the loss of gainful employment to death." Sammy's hand flew to her mouth and she gasped aloud.
Both men turned.
"Samantha! How long have you been standing there?" Anders went to her side.
"Drake still captains La Belle Alexandria," she whispered. "I never realized—"
"I'm terribly sorry you overheard that, my dear," Keefe said, utterly mortified.
Anders took Sammy's hands in his. "Your brother spends most of his time at Allonshire and very little of it at sea," he reminded her. "Since your father's death—certainly since wedding Alexandria and siring a son—Drake's involvement with Barrett Shipping has been primarily on land."
"Still..." Fear gripped Sammy's heart.
"I don't want you to concern yourself about this." Gently but purposefully, Anders led her aside, mollifying her as one would a small child. "Both the Admiralty and Lloyd's are conducting investigations into the cause of these disasters. By the time Drake sets sail again, the problem will most assuredly be resolved."
Mutely, Sammy nodded.
"May I call on you, my lady?"
Lost in the turmoil of her thoughts, Sammy gave Anders a quizzical look. "Pardon me?"
He smiled. "I'm requesting the right to vie for your affections, Samantha. Will you grant me the honor of doing so?"
"Oh." Sammy blinked. "I... that is ... well, my lord ..."
"Stephen."
"Stephen."
"I am as charming as most and more scrupulous than some—if given a chance." There was no missing his meaning. "Please, Samantha, give me that chance."
What could she say? Especially in the hallway of Almack's before a milling crowd of gossips, all craning their necks to hear her reply. Moreover, her head ached from the worry of what she had just learned. She needed to think.
"All right . . . yes, Stephen, you may call on me."
"Tomorrow?"
"No." She blurted out the refusal, softening it immediately. "I need a day to recover. Perhaps Friday?"
"Friday it is. I look forward to it with great anticipation." Anders kissed her gloved hand. "You won't regret your decision, my lady. You have my word on it."
Samantha didn't even hear him. Her mind was consumed with the possibility that Drake could be in danger. How could she subvert it? Talking to her brother would be useless; he was as stubborn as a mule. The only person who had any influence on him was Alex, and with a new babe due any day now, Sammy refused to burden her. No, Sammy knew she was on her own.
Abruptly, she halted, realizing she'd just stumbled upon her answer.
It was as clear as her future with Remington.
She'd found her Gothic hero.
It was time she became a heroine.
6
Considering it was two in the morning before Sammy dismissed Millie and settled under her quilt, dawn should have arrived with a great deal more expedience.
Instead, it dawdled endlessly, leaving Sammy frustrated and impatient. Abandoning her warm bed, she paced about her chambers, wondering if the sun were ever going to rise enough to shed some light on the darkened streets.
Not an abundance of light, merely enough for her to see her way along the north bank of the Thames until she reached London Dock. There, she would implement her plan.
