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Unfortunately, she’d made a point of avoiding him for the rest of the evening. Since John and Bathsheba had previously arranged to take her home, Braden had regretfully accepted that he wouldn’t have a chance to speak with her until tomorrow.
“Here, lad,” Logan said, handing him a glass. “Just what the doctor ordered.”
He eyed the hefty pour. “Are you trying to knock me out?”
Kade settled into the chair next to him. “I wish it would. You could use the sleep.”
Even with a large belt of whisky, Braden knew he wouldn’t sleep until he figured out a solution to Samantha’s problems. He stared at the glass in his hand, fighting a frustrating sense of helplessness.
“Braden?” Logan quietly said.
Braden glanced up to meet his brother’s concerned gaze. “I cannot let that old bastard take Felicity away from Samantha. It’ll kill her.”
“We won’t let that happen.”
“I don’t see how we can stop it.” Braden grimaced. “Samantha wouldn’t even talk to me after that brutal scene. And it’s my own damn fault that it happened in the first place.”
Logan frowned. “How was any of that nonsense your fault?”
“I shouldn’t have gone up after her. I should have sent somebody else. Donella, or you.”
“We were sitting near the front of the room. If you’d come to get us, you would have caused a stir.”
“You were worried for Lady Samantha and went to find her,” Kade added. “That was a completely appropriate response.”
“No, it was a mistake.”
Logan made an impatient noise. “Were you intending to embark on a seduction?”
Braden rolled his eyes. “Don’t be daft.”
“Then stop beating yourself up. You did nothing wrong.”
“Logan’s right. The fault lies with Beath,” Kade said. He reached over and tapped Braden’s glass. “Now, drink up, stop blaming yourself, and start figuring things out. You’ve got the best brains in the family, so use them.”
Braden eyed his younger brother. “So, I’m acting like a prat, is it?”
Kade held up his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “Wee bit.”
Braden scoffed, then took a healthy sip from his glass.
“Better?” Logan asked with a slight smile.
“Splendid. Now that you’ve sorted me out, do you have any suggestions for solving Lady Samantha’s problems?”
“Actually, we’ve barely begun to sort you out,” Logan replied, “but we’ll put that aside for now. As for her dilemma, I think we know the answer.”
Braden sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “You think I should marry her.”
The idea had been lapping at the edges of his brain ever since Beath stormed out of Samantha’s office. It was a way out of the scandal and the best way to protect Felicity, too. As much as Beath might loathe the Kendricks, the family was more powerful than he was. If Braden and Samantha were to marry, rumors would be stopped in their tracks, and Beath would be hard pressed to remove Felicity from their household. Any attempts to paint Samantha as mentally unstable would strike most rational people as utterly foolish, especially since she would be married to a physician.
Beath’s pride was his weak spot, and the man would not relish looking like a fool.
While these thoughts had persisted, as the evening had dragged on and Samantha had done her utmost to avoid him, the idea of marriage seemed increasingly unrealistic. After all, they’d only known each other for a month or so, and he hadn’t even kissed the lass. What the hell was he thinking?
“It’s the most logical solution,” Kade said. “You’d get Samantha out from under Beath’s thumb, and he’d lose his excuse for taking Felicity.”
“Plus, you’d get Samantha,” Logan added. “It’s obvious that you’re mad for the lass.”
